Managing Medication
One of the early clues that something was off with my husband was confusion…it was the dog. Specifically, the dog’s meds. Either our pup was getting triple the dosage of his necessary prednisone, or days were missed entirely and he was one loud noise away from full blown Addisonian crisis. We had the standard drugstore plastic pill organizer, the one with the bold letters for each day of the week that makes you feel responsible just by owning it. But when Monday’s pills were untouched and Thursday’s were mysteriously empty, I knew it was time to step in. Sorry, sweet puppy, your prescription is under new management.
As we moved deeper into the dementia journey, the doctor added an impressive lineup of vitamins, fish oil, and the usual suspects like donepezil. It was like prepping for a daily nutritional decathlon. Gathering the supplements was my task, but swallowing them became my husband’s full-time job.
It was a lot. If he couldn't keep track of a single dose for the dog, how were we going to juggle his new pharmaceutical circus especially with me at work? Maybe we could get some help from the home health aide. She is kind and supportive but legally forbidden from dispensing meds. She could encourage or cheerlead but she couldn't hand over a single pill in the two hours a day she was in our house. Our humble weekly pill organizer was no match for this new regime.
So I did what every desperate caregiver does at some point… I threw money at the problem. I bought an automatic, locking pill dispenser. Yes, it was expensive. Yes, I felt like I was taking a huge risk on something that may not work for us. But wow, did it end up being worth it! The dispenser could be programmed for up to four doses a day, held 28 compartments of meds, and came with a built-in alarm. When it beeped, my husband just had to turn the handle and boom- perfectly timed pill delivery into a little cup. It was like a medication vending machine.
The dispenser was a total game changer. I could relax knowing Wayne was getting his doses. He, on the other hand, hated it. The beeping, the flashing, the continued insistence. It was like living with a nagging wife. But it worked. During those early-to-mid stages, it gave Wayne some independence and gave me peace of mind.
Now, full disclosure. I did get the occasional panicked phone call when the machine wouldn’t stop beeping. Turns out, if you leave it tilted, it throws a little tantrum until it’s reset. Annoying? Yes. Frequent? No. Manageable? Definitely.
Fast forward to today when things have progressed. Wayne now struggles with swallowing pills. We’ve retired the supplement Olympics and trimmed it down to a single must-have dose. I reprogrammed the dispenser to go off once a day… easy. I’m the one tilting it now, but the alarm still does its thing beeping every night like a tiny annoying mechanical nurse. Honestly, I love it.
In this unpredictable game of caregiving, that pill dispenser became one of my most important tools. It may not do the dishes or walk the dog but it gives me one less thing to worry about and that’s worth every beep.