Arrow-right Camera
The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

‘I can just be there’

Valley woman’s journey caring for her mother, a stroke victim, mixes heartache and a determined love

Marilyn Gleeson sits with her mother, Eileen Fringer, in a converted wheelchair-accessible garage, where Gleeson  (J. BART RAYNIAK)
Jill Barville

When Eileen Fringer suffered a stroke four years ago, it caused significant brain trauma and she was no longer able to care for herself in her Seattle-area home. After weighing the options, her daughter, Spokane Valley resident Marilyn Gleeson, decided to convert her attached garage into an accessible suite so she could bring her mom home.

The remodeling work included a bathroom with multiple grab bars and an exterior door with a ramp leading to a spacious fenced yard. Gleeson said she wanted a setup that enabled her mom to retain as much personal independence as possible.

After extensive therapy, Fringer regained the ability to walk, though her mind and body were still affected by the stroke. She cried frequently and didn’t have the same reasoning ability as before the stroke. Then, about two years ago, Fringer had a reaction to anesthetic during a dental procedure. It exacerbated her brain issues and she experienced delusions and irrational behavior.

“I wish I could tell you how cranked down your life gets when something happens in their mind,” said Gleeson, explaining that her mom was diagnosed with psychotic dementia. “You could handle somebody who is physically disabled because you can reason. But mentally, it takes the life out of you.”

Each day is like the movie “Groundhog Day,” said Gleeson, describing her daily struggle to encourage her mom to get up, perform personal hygiene, do her exercises and eat.

“She’s lost all interest in life and motivation,” said Gleeson. “She was active before. Now she likes to lay in bed.”

Before the stroke, Gleeson said her mom, who had been a pilot, enjoyed volunteering at the veterans hospital, taking daily walks around Green Lake, and attending Bible Study Fellowship. Now she argues and even screams about getting out of bed or taking a shower. And sometimes she offers to pay people to move her back to Seattle.

Gleeson said the challenges are worth it because she is helping provide a better quality of life for the woman who loved and raised her. “It is comforting to know that when your parent is toward the end of their time, that you could be with them.”

Still, Gleeson said it is difficult on a daily basis with little support.

That’s why a spring campaign to raise awareness of elder abuse hit a nerve. Her mom had just spent a month in a nursing home after a bout with pneumonia. While there, she complained that her daughter yelled at her. Those complaints led to a suspected abuse report and certified letter from Adult Protective Services. Though the issue was cleared up, Gleeson said it took a couple months and the process was frustrating and stressful.

According to an APS report released this June, in 2009 there were 1,500 reports of alleged elder abuse in Spokane County. Of those, 1,343 were investigated and 215 substantiated.

“I raise my voice. I’m a yeller,” Gleeson admitted, explaining she is like her mom in this regard, whether happy or upset. “When I get excited, my voice goes up.”

Fringer is at high risk of falling, so her large shower is equipped with a seat and grab bars. Yet, she often doesn’t use those safety aids, Gleeson said. “I don’t want my mom to be injured, but she won’t listen,” said Gleeson. “Going into the shower I’ll say, ‘You need to hang on, Mom. Mom!’ ” The second “Mom” is louder and sharper.

The scene is similar to that of a parent scolding a child. But Gleeson said it isn’t entirely the same as parenting because, as an adult, her mom doesn’t need raising even though she needs care and supervision.

For Gleeson, the good moments she has with her mom make each day of difficulty worthwhile. “She’s a loving woman,” said Gleeson. “I know that’s in there. It’s a brain injury. It’s not her fault.”

On a recent afternoon, Gleeson said, she admonished her mom to cooperate with a visiting physical therapist, her voice a blend of frustration and affection. Fringer responded by shooing her daughter out the door. “Go on,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Teenager.”

Gleeson laughed and left the room. “My mom and I are close and have a sense of humor,” she said. “We laugh a lot and we are open. If she wants me to back off, we talk about it.”

She recalled how her mom used to hold and hug her as a child, soothing away any fear. Now it’s her mom who has anxiety and wants a hug. “Now I can just be there … . It’s worth it.”

If you have a story to tell, or know someone who does, send an e-mail to jbarville@msn.com.