I haven't blogged in almost a week. I received feedback from a few people, and it wasn't good. Apparently, they find my blog depressing, distressing, sad...... and they usually look to me for humour, laughter, uplifting advice, and find my blog to be the complete opposite of what they perceive me to be.
Hmmmmmmm....... could it be that I am living a facade? Could it be that I portray somebody completely different when I am outside the confines of my house? Maybe, but I doubt it. I've generally been a happy person through-out my life. Upbeat, humorous, funny....... but sometimes life brings you stuff that you just cannot find the humour in......maybe that's what I'm up against now. I thought I was doing a good job of poking fun at my situation, at my Marjorie's situation. And when I say poking fun.... I mean absolutely NO disrespect to my Mother, none at all. Would she be horrified at the fact that I am writing about this disease and our journey through it? I don't know. I have asked myself that question many times as I write stuff here, and the answer I usually come to is this: "Mum would be horrified, if I were writing this stuff about her. Yes. She would, and I know this. But when I write about my Mum, its all good. When I write about Marjorie, the person that Mum has now become, as a result of Alzheimer's disease, I am writing about a complete stranger. That stranger just happens to look alot like my Mum, live with me, and I care for her."
So I hope that I have made my distinction between the two entities, Marjorie and Mum, very, very clear. They are two completely different people. My Mum is almost completely gone. Today, at this moment, I don't know if I'll ever see her again. I'm hoping I will, I'm almost sure that I will, but if I don't, I know that the last time I did, I told her I loved her, and that I would take care of her, and that I would keep her safe and sound. That all her kids loved her, all her grandchildren, and that everything was going to be just fine.
I'll do the same again, if I'm lucky enough to get a chance at it again.
Gee... maybe my critics are correct, this is sort of depressing. :)
peace out.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Fat guy in the Red Suit.
Today, I am struggling whether or not to blog the truth about yesterday. Or this last month, if I'm honest.... Wondering if I should sugar coat it, dip it in chocolate... sweeten it up a bit before I pour it out on the page. I'm wondering if everyone who reads it, can handle it.
First let me give you a run-down of events. I am in my last push to obtain fundraising and donations for the the Special Olympics, which we, as a hometown club, are hosting next yr on Jan 9th. So I am busy and a little stressed with the responses I have been getting over the last three or four days. But that's just a small part of it. Then there is me. My health. Well..... not the greatest news yesterday, but it's news, it's something to go on, it's plain facts... black and white, it's all self-inflicted. Self-inflicted. Great, another thing I've done that I can beat myself up on. Maybe I'll have some ice cream.
Then there are the kids. What happened to my kids? They are mouthy, entitled, spoiled rotten, defiant little turds these days. Oh... I love them.... there is no doubt in my mind about that.... I just don't LIKE them right now. What a difference a year makes. No more "Santa" in my house. I was sort of relieved last year, when it happened. After all, I was sick of doing all the work and some fat, fictitious guy in a red suit (mostly the guy at the mall) was getting all the credit. Sit back on Christmas morning, watching their little faces glow with excitement, looking at me and saying "SEE Mum? I was good, after all... Santa thought so" I felt like saying "Gee... wonder if Santa kept the receipt for that so he can return it......"
So here we are, this year.... no more Santa. Yes... I felt a little relieved, but I have to be honest, I realize something now...... the fictitious fat guy held more clout that me!!! He really did. Santa! How the hell do you maintain that jolly, holly exterior.... but still manage to instill fear in children's hearts worldwide... thus scaring them into being good for AT LEAST the two weeks prior to Christmas???? I'm lost on this one, cause my children are running around wild, like little savages, talking back, getting bad grades on their "dictae" (you know who I'm talking about), refusing household chores, fighting and screaming at each other and finally... the absolute best... completely and totally ignoring me when and if I attempt to communicate with them!!!!!! But wait! There's more.... last nite, on one of the RARE occasions that they were actually conversing without punching or screaming at each other ... I hear my son say "When I get my "such and such" and my "this" for Christmas, it will be TOTALLY EPIC"....... my daughter replies... "Oh I know.... I'm getting a "such and such" and a "such and such". I cannot wait. You see, now that they are aware of Santa's non-existence, they seem not only a little older and wiser..... they also seem very entitled and sure of themselves. I tried the whole "Christmas is around the corner... and I'd be good if I were you....." got nothing. Nope. They are both hell on wheels and someone, anyone, needs to take gunfire at their back tires. But how? The only thing that comes to mind is that I let them wake up on Christmas morning, with no presents under the tree. But in doing that I risk standing there, @ 8am.... with a coffee in my hand (laced with bailey's) and blurting " see? told yah so. I"M SANTA now...... and SANTA is IN THE HOUSE WITH NO PRESENTS!!! How do you like THEM APPLES!!!!!!!!" and that would just be mean. Or would it?
All I know is that I wish I had Santa's clout.
peace out.
First let me give you a run-down of events. I am in my last push to obtain fundraising and donations for the the Special Olympics, which we, as a hometown club, are hosting next yr on Jan 9th. So I am busy and a little stressed with the responses I have been getting over the last three or four days. But that's just a small part of it. Then there is me. My health. Well..... not the greatest news yesterday, but it's news, it's something to go on, it's plain facts... black and white, it's all self-inflicted. Self-inflicted. Great, another thing I've done that I can beat myself up on. Maybe I'll have some ice cream.
Then there are the kids. What happened to my kids? They are mouthy, entitled, spoiled rotten, defiant little turds these days. Oh... I love them.... there is no doubt in my mind about that.... I just don't LIKE them right now. What a difference a year makes. No more "Santa" in my house. I was sort of relieved last year, when it happened. After all, I was sick of doing all the work and some fat, fictitious guy in a red suit (mostly the guy at the mall) was getting all the credit. Sit back on Christmas morning, watching their little faces glow with excitement, looking at me and saying "SEE Mum? I was good, after all... Santa thought so" I felt like saying "Gee... wonder if Santa kept the receipt for that so he can return it......"
So here we are, this year.... no more Santa. Yes... I felt a little relieved, but I have to be honest, I realize something now...... the fictitious fat guy held more clout that me!!! He really did. Santa! How the hell do you maintain that jolly, holly exterior.... but still manage to instill fear in children's hearts worldwide... thus scaring them into being good for AT LEAST the two weeks prior to Christmas???? I'm lost on this one, cause my children are running around wild, like little savages, talking back, getting bad grades on their "dictae" (you know who I'm talking about), refusing household chores, fighting and screaming at each other and finally... the absolute best... completely and totally ignoring me when and if I attempt to communicate with them!!!!!! But wait! There's more.... last nite, on one of the RARE occasions that they were actually conversing without punching or screaming at each other ... I hear my son say "When I get my "such and such" and my "this" for Christmas, it will be TOTALLY EPIC"....... my daughter replies... "Oh I know.... I'm getting a "such and such" and a "such and such". I cannot wait. You see, now that they are aware of Santa's non-existence, they seem not only a little older and wiser..... they also seem very entitled and sure of themselves. I tried the whole "Christmas is around the corner... and I'd be good if I were you....." got nothing. Nope. They are both hell on wheels and someone, anyone, needs to take gunfire at their back tires. But how? The only thing that comes to mind is that I let them wake up on Christmas morning, with no presents under the tree. But in doing that I risk standing there, @ 8am.... with a coffee in my hand (laced with bailey's) and blurting " see? told yah so. I"M SANTA now...... and SANTA is IN THE HOUSE WITH NO PRESENTS!!! How do you like THEM APPLES!!!!!!!!" and that would just be mean. Or would it?
All I know is that I wish I had Santa's clout.
peace out.
Monday, December 13, 2010
The Bull Horn
I took Sunday off......from blogging, that is. You see, when you are a caregiver, you never have time off. Ok, when the person with dementia is sleeping, eating, fixated on a tv show, folding laundry or calm..... you get some respite. Actually, let me re-phrase that..... you get some respite, but your guard is never down.
Unless you have hired help, which I am in the process of getting, you are always on.... 24-7..... at least your guard is.
Lately, Marjorie has taken to opening the front door. Live and learn. Had I known back then, what I know now, I would've put the door to her bedroom closer to the kitchen when we were building this house. Yes, she has taken to opening up the front door. To clarify, I have her room alarmed, meaning that when she opens the door to her room, a chime goes off. I have alarm pads upstairs, in my bedroom, to warn me that she is "on the move". And until this last week or so, Marjorie has been content leaving her room, to discover the inside of the house, never to venture farther than the kitchen. By the time the chime wakes me, and I leap out of my bed, pull some pj bottoms on and get my (really large) butt down those long set of stairs, Marjorie has usually made it to the kitchen. A hard right from her bedroom.
Lately though, she has been taking a hard LEFT to the front door, unlocking and opening it up. She has yet to step outside, but I wonder if she would, if I wasn't there to intervene.
Let's think about the stories we hear on the news. We've all heard them, about elderly people wandering off and going missing. Sometimes it's in the middle of winter, others it's in the summer. Sometimes they are recovered unharmed, other times they perish in the outdoors.... lost forever.
Now I am the first to admit that I would hear these stories, and I would think "gawd... who the HELL let's an elderly person go outside like that, no clothes, especially when they are senile???" Now I understand. You see, Alzheimer's changes a person's brain. When I am cooking something, let's say, in the frying pan, and Marjorie thinks that it's the sound of rain, there is no telling her differently. In her mind, it's rain. You cannot convince her otherwise. When she wants to, or doesn't want to wear a certain outfit, there is no coercing her. When trying to bathe her, she is insistent that she JUST had a shower 20 minutes ago, you cannot change her mind. And when she thinks that she needs to be somewhere, that she has tickets on a plane or a train, you have to go along with it. There is no changing an AD sufferer's mind. So when you hear of an elderly person going missing, they are following their need to be somewhere, on time. They generally don't know where they are going, but they know they have to get there. This is what drives Marjorie to open that front door every nite now. She truly believes she is going somewhere, that she has to be somewhere, at that specific time. What is scary is that it's very cold here right now, and last nite I said "Mum!! it's below freezing out there, and raining!!!!" Marjorie looked at me and said "that is why I am wearing a rain coat!!!" she was wearing her housecoat.
So yes, I do get respite when Marjorie is sleeping..... but I can never truly let my guard down. Sleep with one eye open, senses always on high alert, and the bull horn. Oh, did I forget to tell you about the bull horn?
Yes, well, we all have one. Every house with an alarm does. So if I miss that 10 second window that I have to punch my code in, the bull horn goes off. It's a loud, obnoxious sound that would literally wake the dead. Unless you are a husband or child of mine. Yes... amidst my story of Marjorie and her soulful wandering, I forgot to mention that none of my other family members.... not one... not even Ozzie, my faithful guard dog, not one of them wakes up to the bull horn. The next morning they look at me like I'm crazy, when I ask them if they heard the bull horn. Nope... not one of them. Slept like babies.
And people wonder why I don't let the kids, or my hubby step in and watch Mum..... even for an hour or so...... why? Because of the bull horn... that's why.
peace out.
Unless you have hired help, which I am in the process of getting, you are always on.... 24-7..... at least your guard is.
Lately, Marjorie has taken to opening the front door. Live and learn. Had I known back then, what I know now, I would've put the door to her bedroom closer to the kitchen when we were building this house. Yes, she has taken to opening up the front door. To clarify, I have her room alarmed, meaning that when she opens the door to her room, a chime goes off. I have alarm pads upstairs, in my bedroom, to warn me that she is "on the move". And until this last week or so, Marjorie has been content leaving her room, to discover the inside of the house, never to venture farther than the kitchen. By the time the chime wakes me, and I leap out of my bed, pull some pj bottoms on and get my (really large) butt down those long set of stairs, Marjorie has usually made it to the kitchen. A hard right from her bedroom.
Lately though, she has been taking a hard LEFT to the front door, unlocking and opening it up. She has yet to step outside, but I wonder if she would, if I wasn't there to intervene.
Let's think about the stories we hear on the news. We've all heard them, about elderly people wandering off and going missing. Sometimes it's in the middle of winter, others it's in the summer. Sometimes they are recovered unharmed, other times they perish in the outdoors.... lost forever.
Now I am the first to admit that I would hear these stories, and I would think "gawd... who the HELL let's an elderly person go outside like that, no clothes, especially when they are senile???" Now I understand. You see, Alzheimer's changes a person's brain. When I am cooking something, let's say, in the frying pan, and Marjorie thinks that it's the sound of rain, there is no telling her differently. In her mind, it's rain. You cannot convince her otherwise. When she wants to, or doesn't want to wear a certain outfit, there is no coercing her. When trying to bathe her, she is insistent that she JUST had a shower 20 minutes ago, you cannot change her mind. And when she thinks that she needs to be somewhere, that she has tickets on a plane or a train, you have to go along with it. There is no changing an AD sufferer's mind. So when you hear of an elderly person going missing, they are following their need to be somewhere, on time. They generally don't know where they are going, but they know they have to get there. This is what drives Marjorie to open that front door every nite now. She truly believes she is going somewhere, that she has to be somewhere, at that specific time. What is scary is that it's very cold here right now, and last nite I said "Mum!! it's below freezing out there, and raining!!!!" Marjorie looked at me and said "that is why I am wearing a rain coat!!!" she was wearing her housecoat.
So yes, I do get respite when Marjorie is sleeping..... but I can never truly let my guard down. Sleep with one eye open, senses always on high alert, and the bull horn. Oh, did I forget to tell you about the bull horn?
Yes, well, we all have one. Every house with an alarm does. So if I miss that 10 second window that I have to punch my code in, the bull horn goes off. It's a loud, obnoxious sound that would literally wake the dead. Unless you are a husband or child of mine. Yes... amidst my story of Marjorie and her soulful wandering, I forgot to mention that none of my other family members.... not one... not even Ozzie, my faithful guard dog, not one of them wakes up to the bull horn. The next morning they look at me like I'm crazy, when I ask them if they heard the bull horn. Nope... not one of them. Slept like babies.
And people wonder why I don't let the kids, or my hubby step in and watch Mum..... even for an hour or so...... why? Because of the bull horn... that's why.
peace out.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Why we do the things we do.....
Ok people... I only have two followers... get off your asses.. get a google account and become a follower. Make me feel loved for gawd sakes!
http://www.nia.nih.gov/Alzheimers/Publications/adfact.htm
I just found this website last nite. It's a decent one, giving actual facts that are easy to understand. According to the Internet (which isn't always the most reliable source) roughly between 2.4 and 5.3 million Americans are currently suffering from Alzheimer's related dementia. (sorry, I do not have the Canadian numbers this morning). The reason for the vast difference in the numbers is that alot of the time, the person does not get diagnosed, officially, with the disease. The health care system being the way that it is in the US, alot of people slip through the cracks, never being diagnosed OR treated for the disease. I really find this heartbreaking and unthinkable.... that a human being can have this disease, live with it for many years, and not have the medication and/or medical resources needed to be cared for properly. It actually boggles my mind.
I know there are a lot of you out there, that know me and my situation, who don't quite understand why I have chosen to care for Mum @ home. Believe me, I understand your questions. I rant alot, I'm stressed out, I complain, I bitch, I'm tired.......... but it's a choice I have made mainly due to many contributing factors. Some I am able to explain easily, others I am not.
First of all, she was my mother. Unconventional, quirky, always a hint of a little crazy (let me stress a GOOD crazy) but when the chips fell, a good mother. When I tell stories of my childhood, they are fundamentally good stories, happy stories and for that, I am eternally grateful to her. I feel like I am not near as good of a mother to my children, as she was to me. That may be a off-tilt view, but it's how I see things.
I am aware that I had a very co-dependant relationship with my Mother. As I grew older, the co-dependency increased. We went from a mother-daughter relationship to more of a mother-daughter-confident-friend relationship, if that makes any sense. I spoke to her every day, sometimes numerous times during the day. I never went a full day without calling her, or answering her call. When I was still working, I had 8-8:30am blocked off on my calendar, every day, to take her call. I actually moved meetings when I could, or worked around this half hour slot, just so I could take that call. We discussed everything, good and bad. Mum knew everything about my life, and I knew everything about hers. We both harbour many of each other's secrets, dreams, disappointments, mistakes, regrets and triumphs....... alot of which we will both take to our graves. :)
My Mum got me out of more bad situations, mistakes, relationships, jobs, financial crunches..... she just saved me alot.
When I was 16 years old, and not being the easiest teenager, we started to go for coffee at Peter Jianopolous's Dad's cafe (He was a kid in my class..... nice kid.....) It was a greasy little spoon down on front street, in between the book store and the dollar store. It was a long and dark cafe, with Naugahyde benches and really cheesy decor. We would meet there , sit and have coffee and lunch and talk. It became our "place" and we continued to go there well after I had moved away from home,, when I would return on weekends and/or holidays. Eventually, we stopped going there, and a few years passed and then one time when I was home, during one of Dad's many emergency illness', I took Mum there for lunch. We sat in our booth, we re-connected with Peter's Mum and sister (who ran the greasy spoon) and it was then that Mum sat across from me and cried and cried, because she didn't think that Dad was going to survive this latest bout of illness. She was truly terrified about her future. Now, looking back, that would make Mum around 68 and she was probably experiencing alot of symptoms of the mild stages of AD. She confided that she could not survive without my father, and that she had absolutely no idea what she would do, where she would live etc. She did know that she did not want to live without her husband. At that moment, I realized that she was completely dependant on my father. I didn't know about the Alzheimer's yet, but the symptoms must have been showing by now, and I now realize she was absolutely terrified at the thought of being alone, without my Dad. At this point, I had two children, under the age of 3. I lived in a very small house, semi-detached and we were already cramped. But I offered her to come and live with me, told her that she would always have a space with us and that she would always be welcome. This next part is funny, because she flatly refused and said that if she was going to be left alone, and forced to live with anyone, it would be the wisest choice to move out west with my brother. In a single sentence, she shot me down. Looking back at this, I am only just able to begin to understand why she said that, because it's what Dad wanted for her. After all, with Dad, it was all about his three boys....... they always came first.
Of course that all changed, and as Dad deteriorated, and he got worse, and it became clearly apparent that he was never leaving that hospital...... Mum came to live with me. By this time we had moved, into a bigger house, still not big enough to house us all, but bigger than the last. And so it began....... the ripple of events that followed to bring us where we are today.
Yes, co-dependant..... that is the best way to describe my relationship, earlier on, with my mother. Now the dependency is basically a one way street, but that's ok. That's my decision. But now you know a little more about why I chose this route. because of the woman she once used to be.....but also because of the woman she has become. My Mum.... the one that raised us, would probably have refused all and any care offered to here....... Now? Marjorie NEEDS all the care and support she can get, as she cannot function without it.
So when I'm bitching, griping and being mean about Marjorie, please remember that I really loved my Mum, and I'm doing this for her. I wonder if this made sense?
http://www.nia.nih.gov/Alzheimers/Publications/adfact.htm
I just found this website last nite. It's a decent one, giving actual facts that are easy to understand. According to the Internet (which isn't always the most reliable source) roughly between 2.4 and 5.3 million Americans are currently suffering from Alzheimer's related dementia. (sorry, I do not have the Canadian numbers this morning). The reason for the vast difference in the numbers is that alot of the time, the person does not get diagnosed, officially, with the disease. The health care system being the way that it is in the US, alot of people slip through the cracks, never being diagnosed OR treated for the disease. I really find this heartbreaking and unthinkable.... that a human being can have this disease, live with it for many years, and not have the medication and/or medical resources needed to be cared for properly. It actually boggles my mind.
I know there are a lot of you out there, that know me and my situation, who don't quite understand why I have chosen to care for Mum @ home. Believe me, I understand your questions. I rant alot, I'm stressed out, I complain, I bitch, I'm tired.......... but it's a choice I have made mainly due to many contributing factors. Some I am able to explain easily, others I am not.
First of all, she was my mother. Unconventional, quirky, always a hint of a little crazy (let me stress a GOOD crazy) but when the chips fell, a good mother. When I tell stories of my childhood, they are fundamentally good stories, happy stories and for that, I am eternally grateful to her. I feel like I am not near as good of a mother to my children, as she was to me. That may be a off-tilt view, but it's how I see things.
I am aware that I had a very co-dependant relationship with my Mother. As I grew older, the co-dependency increased. We went from a mother-daughter relationship to more of a mother-daughter-confident-friend relationship, if that makes any sense. I spoke to her every day, sometimes numerous times during the day. I never went a full day without calling her, or answering her call. When I was still working, I had 8-8:30am blocked off on my calendar, every day, to take her call. I actually moved meetings when I could, or worked around this half hour slot, just so I could take that call. We discussed everything, good and bad. Mum knew everything about my life, and I knew everything about hers. We both harbour many of each other's secrets, dreams, disappointments, mistakes, regrets and triumphs....... alot of which we will both take to our graves. :)
My Mum got me out of more bad situations, mistakes, relationships, jobs, financial crunches..... she just saved me alot.
When I was 16 years old, and not being the easiest teenager, we started to go for coffee at Peter Jianopolous's Dad's cafe (He was a kid in my class..... nice kid.....) It was a greasy little spoon down on front street, in between the book store and the dollar store. It was a long and dark cafe, with Naugahyde benches and really cheesy decor. We would meet there , sit and have coffee and lunch and talk. It became our "place" and we continued to go there well after I had moved away from home,, when I would return on weekends and/or holidays. Eventually, we stopped going there, and a few years passed and then one time when I was home, during one of Dad's many emergency illness', I took Mum there for lunch. We sat in our booth, we re-connected with Peter's Mum and sister (who ran the greasy spoon) and it was then that Mum sat across from me and cried and cried, because she didn't think that Dad was going to survive this latest bout of illness. She was truly terrified about her future. Now, looking back, that would make Mum around 68 and she was probably experiencing alot of symptoms of the mild stages of AD. She confided that she could not survive without my father, and that she had absolutely no idea what she would do, where she would live etc. She did know that she did not want to live without her husband. At that moment, I realized that she was completely dependant on my father. I didn't know about the Alzheimer's yet, but the symptoms must have been showing by now, and I now realize she was absolutely terrified at the thought of being alone, without my Dad. At this point, I had two children, under the age of 3. I lived in a very small house, semi-detached and we were already cramped. But I offered her to come and live with me, told her that she would always have a space with us and that she would always be welcome. This next part is funny, because she flatly refused and said that if she was going to be left alone, and forced to live with anyone, it would be the wisest choice to move out west with my brother. In a single sentence, she shot me down. Looking back at this, I am only just able to begin to understand why she said that, because it's what Dad wanted for her. After all, with Dad, it was all about his three boys....... they always came first.
Of course that all changed, and as Dad deteriorated, and he got worse, and it became clearly apparent that he was never leaving that hospital...... Mum came to live with me. By this time we had moved, into a bigger house, still not big enough to house us all, but bigger than the last. And so it began....... the ripple of events that followed to bring us where we are today.
Yes, co-dependant..... that is the best way to describe my relationship, earlier on, with my mother. Now the dependency is basically a one way street, but that's ok. That's my decision. But now you know a little more about why I chose this route. because of the woman she once used to be.....but also because of the woman she has become. My Mum.... the one that raised us, would probably have refused all and any care offered to here....... Now? Marjorie NEEDS all the care and support she can get, as she cannot function without it.
So when I'm bitching, griping and being mean about Marjorie, please remember that I really loved my Mum, and I'm doing this for her. I wonder if this made sense?
Friday, December 10, 2010
Well it's official. We've made the switch. After weeks of watching the same 5 episodes of Dancing with the Stars over and over again (yes... the one with Jennifer Grey and the Palin chick.... how long has it been since that was actually a current show?)....... I've finally and successfully switched to "The Golden Girls". It wasn't me that made the switch, it was actually the goddess angel Linda. When she was caring for Mum in the summer, she got Mum watching it. Well, time went by, Dancing with the Stars ended and all I was left with were distant memories of the happy times I had, over the summer, with Linda here, caring for Mum..... and the PVR'd episodes of Dancing with the Stars. Watching them over and over and over again. I truly thought that I would stick my head in a pot of boiling water if I ever had to hear that tune that starts off their show... "da da da da da da daaaa..... da da da da dah! Just kill me.
But now it's the Golden Girls. On every evening @ 6:30 on W. I have it PVR'd, and I'll tell you something, we all remember the show.. but I'll betcha none of you have watched it in a while, and it's freakin' funny. So funny, that it actually makes me laugh out loud. Good, solid, comedy. Funny as hell. Give it a whirl again if any of you can. It's a hoot.
What a day ... what a day! I thought I would follow up and let you know just how the waxing went... and it went great. My friend tried some new products on me to reduce the redness and puffiness that always follows, because my skin is so sensitive and she hit the jackpot. It worked. I look normal, instead of a bloated, aged Jack Klugman after a vodka binge!!! Don't get me wrong, it hurt like hell, but it's worth it. I also had the pleasure of a hot stone massage. She gave me a 15 minute trial to see if I liked it or not...... and I did. Never had one before, but will definately have to try the whole 1.5 hrs. Just as soon as one of my kids moves out, and I can maybe afford it.
This afternoon, I had to weed through Mum's closet again, and clear out the clothes that do not fit her anymore. I can see it now, family members that haven't been here in a while are goingto visit this year, take one look at Mum and think "gawd... we should have placed her with the skinny sister!!!!!" Yes, she has put on quite a bit of weight, but I think she looks amazing! However, I think that it's time to curb on the sweets, as she is beginning to pull out of the size 12 now. Its the lack of activity, combined with her sweet tooth that's doing it. Mum was always so active. Walking to Kelly's, the mall etc. Running after Dad, kids etc. Now she is taking it easy. She folds alot of laundry, so she has wicked guns..... but it's funny how you just wind down and lose steam. For almost 80 though, she's a pretty spry cracker!!!
The one thing that never changes, that is always a constant is this...... Women: no matter how old, or how disoriented we get, when those pants won't do up...... it's STILL the dryer's fault!!!
peace out.
But now it's the Golden Girls. On every evening @ 6:30 on W. I have it PVR'd, and I'll tell you something, we all remember the show.. but I'll betcha none of you have watched it in a while, and it's freakin' funny. So funny, that it actually makes me laugh out loud. Good, solid, comedy. Funny as hell. Give it a whirl again if any of you can. It's a hoot.
What a day ... what a day! I thought I would follow up and let you know just how the waxing went... and it went great. My friend tried some new products on me to reduce the redness and puffiness that always follows, because my skin is so sensitive and she hit the jackpot. It worked. I look normal, instead of a bloated, aged Jack Klugman after a vodka binge!!! Don't get me wrong, it hurt like hell, but it's worth it. I also had the pleasure of a hot stone massage. She gave me a 15 minute trial to see if I liked it or not...... and I did. Never had one before, but will definately have to try the whole 1.5 hrs. Just as soon as one of my kids moves out, and I can maybe afford it.
This afternoon, I had to weed through Mum's closet again, and clear out the clothes that do not fit her anymore. I can see it now, family members that haven't been here in a while are goingto visit this year, take one look at Mum and think "gawd... we should have placed her with the skinny sister!!!!!" Yes, she has put on quite a bit of weight, but I think she looks amazing! However, I think that it's time to curb on the sweets, as she is beginning to pull out of the size 12 now. Its the lack of activity, combined with her sweet tooth that's doing it. Mum was always so active. Walking to Kelly's, the mall etc. Running after Dad, kids etc. Now she is taking it easy. She folds alot of laundry, so she has wicked guns..... but it's funny how you just wind down and lose steam. For almost 80 though, she's a pretty spry cracker!!!
The one thing that never changes, that is always a constant is this...... Women: no matter how old, or how disoriented we get, when those pants won't do up...... it's STILL the dryer's fault!!!
peace out.
Wax on... Wax off....
Good morning all.
Well.... today I am nervous. I am anticipating an appointment that I have at noon. Not the "annual female appointment", oh no... MUCH worse than that. Not a mammogram, still worse. Not meeting with the bank to ask for more debt... definately more daunting than that. Today I am having my face and eyebrows waxed. Yep. Waxed.
I suppose it could be worse. I supposed I could be heading for the esthetician for a brazillian, with an anal wax...which BY THE WAY... I am not. In my 42 yrs of living I have only ever had one of those, and I was tricked into it by a friend... waaaay back in University..... Thanks Tami Campbell, I lost my childhood innocence that day.
Nope... just the face and eyebrows. Being in my 40's has brought me so much freedom, wisdom, serenity and confidence, but it's also brough me hair in places that I would rather not discuss. Now on the bright side (remember my mantra), I really don't grow alot of hair and if I do, its really fine and blonde. In fact, my esthetician was against me waxing my lip, chin and sideburns stating that they were not an esthetic issue. But I did it anyway. I really like the feel and look of my skin (after the swelling and blotching dissapates) when I am waxed. In my warped world, when I look in the mirror, I feel better. Look younger. So it's worth it. And my girl is a gifted artist when it comes to waxing. Finding her was akin to finding the holy grail of youth.
My sister waxes her arms, and I may try that next.... just to see what all the hype is about. Maybe I'll do that before Florida. But under NO circumstances will I EVER do my yoo-hoo. A bit of lanscaping maybe, but that's about it. Wax has no place down there.
So that's what's on my agenda for today. I wish I had a diazepam to pop, prior to my appointment, as I would much rather give birth to my 10lb kids again.... than go through the pain of waxing. Geesh. The things we do for beauty
Of course, Mum will join me today. This will be our outing, followed by a trip to the liquor store and then Browns. I really love my little town of Stittsville, and the fact that most people know and love my Mum. The girls @ Browns and the liquor store, and the pharmacy....are all aware that she has AD, and they treat her with the utmost respect. They take her Roger's video card and swipe it through the debit machine, let her do her pin, all the while they are running my PC mastercard and we leave with Mum thinking that she has paid. She always wants to pay for everything..... unless it's over $20. There's another good point for you other caregivers out there, when you encounter problems at the store. Let them THINK they are paying...... it all works out best in the end.
And Mum feels like she has contributed. If I even try to refuse, there is a huge scene that follows. It's just easier that way.
So last nite went very smoothly. Dinner, then bedtime routine. Mum was tired last nite, because I had her folding laundry most of the day. I bet she folded 4 baskets of laundry, and because she was having a good day, she did it perfectly. That, my friends, is a huge help to me and my never-ending laundry issue in this house. See? Dementia does not need to render you completely useless... especially when you have a daughter/caregiver that works you like a dawg during the day. Keeps them honest with a sense of self-worth.
There is a drawback though..... I have to keep constant watch, as for some reason, Mum likes to take my husbands undies and hang them through her closet, hidden of course, but at any given time, I can find upwardly of 15 pairs of men's underwear there. A small price to pay for getting your laundry folded.
So Mum went down with the most minimal of effort. I was pleasantly surprised, but like I said, she was tired. The hot tea and fresh baked cookies that I brought to her room help a little too. AND she slept right through till 3am, which allowed me a few extra hours of zzzzzz.
I am hoping for the same if not better today. She is in the process of getting dressed as I type this, and I am allowing her the privacy to try and do it herself this morning. I laid out her clothes, and made sure that everything she needed was in plain sight. So we will have to see how that turns out.
My children, on the other hand, that's a whole different story, for a whole different blog. They are not in my good books this week, as their laziness and lack of basic survival skills are that of a 2 yr old. Not even, as at least a 2 yr old is TRYING to exercise their right and ability to be independent. Not my kids... they just want it ALL DONE for them. I love them dearly, but right now, I wish I could give them BOTH two weeks notice, with two weeks severance of their allowance, and tell them to get the HELL out. Am I the only one that thinks this way? hmmmmmm....probably.
So I begin my day with a positive post (for all you out there thinking that this blog is depressing). I hope to even catch a visit with Mum... you just never know when she's going to "pop" in. But I'll take Marjorie too.
Oh. I forgot. Today is shower day. That means that I will most likely enter another post before the day's end, describing my experience bathing the 125lb cat. :)
peace out.
Well.... today I am nervous. I am anticipating an appointment that I have at noon. Not the "annual female appointment", oh no... MUCH worse than that. Not a mammogram, still worse. Not meeting with the bank to ask for more debt... definately more daunting than that. Today I am having my face and eyebrows waxed. Yep. Waxed.
I suppose it could be worse. I supposed I could be heading for the esthetician for a brazillian, with an anal wax...which BY THE WAY... I am not. In my 42 yrs of living I have only ever had one of those, and I was tricked into it by a friend... waaaay back in University..... Thanks Tami Campbell, I lost my childhood innocence that day.
Nope... just the face and eyebrows. Being in my 40's has brought me so much freedom, wisdom, serenity and confidence, but it's also brough me hair in places that I would rather not discuss. Now on the bright side (remember my mantra), I really don't grow alot of hair and if I do, its really fine and blonde. In fact, my esthetician was against me waxing my lip, chin and sideburns stating that they were not an esthetic issue. But I did it anyway. I really like the feel and look of my skin (after the swelling and blotching dissapates) when I am waxed. In my warped world, when I look in the mirror, I feel better. Look younger. So it's worth it. And my girl is a gifted artist when it comes to waxing. Finding her was akin to finding the holy grail of youth.
My sister waxes her arms, and I may try that next.... just to see what all the hype is about. Maybe I'll do that before Florida. But under NO circumstances will I EVER do my yoo-hoo. A bit of lanscaping maybe, but that's about it. Wax has no place down there.
So that's what's on my agenda for today. I wish I had a diazepam to pop, prior to my appointment, as I would much rather give birth to my 10lb kids again.... than go through the pain of waxing. Geesh. The things we do for beauty
Of course, Mum will join me today. This will be our outing, followed by a trip to the liquor store and then Browns. I really love my little town of Stittsville, and the fact that most people know and love my Mum. The girls @ Browns and the liquor store, and the pharmacy....are all aware that she has AD, and they treat her with the utmost respect. They take her Roger's video card and swipe it through the debit machine, let her do her pin, all the while they are running my PC mastercard and we leave with Mum thinking that she has paid. She always wants to pay for everything..... unless it's over $20. There's another good point for you other caregivers out there, when you encounter problems at the store. Let them THINK they are paying...... it all works out best in the end.
And Mum feels like she has contributed. If I even try to refuse, there is a huge scene that follows. It's just easier that way.
So last nite went very smoothly. Dinner, then bedtime routine. Mum was tired last nite, because I had her folding laundry most of the day. I bet she folded 4 baskets of laundry, and because she was having a good day, she did it perfectly. That, my friends, is a huge help to me and my never-ending laundry issue in this house. See? Dementia does not need to render you completely useless... especially when you have a daughter/caregiver that works you like a dawg during the day. Keeps them honest with a sense of self-worth.
There is a drawback though..... I have to keep constant watch, as for some reason, Mum likes to take my husbands undies and hang them through her closet, hidden of course, but at any given time, I can find upwardly of 15 pairs of men's underwear there. A small price to pay for getting your laundry folded.
So Mum went down with the most minimal of effort. I was pleasantly surprised, but like I said, she was tired. The hot tea and fresh baked cookies that I brought to her room help a little too. AND she slept right through till 3am, which allowed me a few extra hours of zzzzzz.
I am hoping for the same if not better today. She is in the process of getting dressed as I type this, and I am allowing her the privacy to try and do it herself this morning. I laid out her clothes, and made sure that everything she needed was in plain sight. So we will have to see how that turns out.
My children, on the other hand, that's a whole different story, for a whole different blog. They are not in my good books this week, as their laziness and lack of basic survival skills are that of a 2 yr old. Not even, as at least a 2 yr old is TRYING to exercise their right and ability to be independent. Not my kids... they just want it ALL DONE for them. I love them dearly, but right now, I wish I could give them BOTH two weeks notice, with two weeks severance of their allowance, and tell them to get the HELL out. Am I the only one that thinks this way? hmmmmmm....probably.
So I begin my day with a positive post (for all you out there thinking that this blog is depressing). I hope to even catch a visit with Mum... you just never know when she's going to "pop" in. But I'll take Marjorie too.
Oh. I forgot. Today is shower day. That means that I will most likely enter another post before the day's end, describing my experience bathing the 125lb cat. :)
peace out.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
10 Warning Signs of Alzheimer's
Alzheimer's disease is a progressive, degenerative disease. Symptoms include loss of memory, difficulty with day-to-day tasks, and changes in mood and behaviour. People may think these symptoms are part of normal aging but they aren't. It is important to see a doctor when you notice any of these symptoms as they may be due to other conditions such as depression, drug interactions or an infection. If the diagnosis is Alzheimer's disease, your local Alzheimer Society can help.
To help you know what warning signs to look for, the Alzheimer Society has developed the following list:
To help you know what warning signs to look for, the Alzheimer Society has developed the following list:
- Memory loss that affects day-to-day function
It's normal to occasionally forget appointments, colleagues' names or a friend's phone number and remember them later. A person with Alzheimer's disease may forget things more often and not remember them later, especially things that have happened more recently. - Difficulty performing familiar tasks
Busy people can be so distracted from time to time that they may leave the carrots on the stove and only remember to serve them at the end of a meal. A person with Alzheimer's disease may have trouble with tasks that have been familiar to them all their lives, such as preparing a meal. - Problems with language
Everyone has trouble finding the right word sometimes, but a person with Alzheimer's disease may forget simple words or substitute words, making her sentences difficult to understand. - Disorientation of time and place
It's normal to forget the day of the week or your destination -- for a moment. But a person with Alzheimer's disease can become lost on their own street, not knowing how they got there or how to get home. - Poor or decreased judgment
People may sometimes put off going to a doctor if they have an infection, but eventually seek medical attention. A person with Alzheimer's disease may have decreased judgment, for example not recognizing a medical problem that needs attention or wearing heavy clothing on a hot day. - Problems with abstract thinking
From time to time, people may have difficulty with tasks that require abstract thinking, such as balancing a cheque book. Someone with Alzheimer's disease may have significant difficulties with such tasks, for example not recognizing what the numbers in the cheque book mean. - Misplacing things
Anyone can temporarily misplace a wallet or keys. A person with Alzheimer's disease may put things in inappropriate places: an iron in the freezer or a wristwatch in the sugar bowl. - Changes in mood and behaviour
Everyone becomes sad or moody from time to time. Someone with Alzheimer's disease can exhibit varied mood swings -- from calm to tears to anger -- for no apparent reason. - Changes in personality
People's personalities can change somewhat with age. But a person with Alzheimer's disease can become confused, suspicious or withdrawn. Changes may also include apathy, fearfulness or acting out of character. - Loss of initiative
It's normal to tire of housework, business activities or social obligations, but most people regain their initiative. A person with Alzheimer's disease may become very passive, and require cues and prompting to become involved.
Room service
aaaahhhhhhh..... the sweet sound of peace and quiet. It's my favourite sound, in the whole, wide world.
Ok, except for the sound of the laundry going upstairs. I forgot to close the door and I'm too lazy to haul my fat ass upstairs to do it.
aaaaahhhhh... the sweet sound of peace and quiet..... with the distant hum of the washing machine. Positive thinking.. remember? It's my mantra.
Alot happened yesterday. I'm not even sure I can blog about everything, but I will try. First of all, I finally opened up and sent my blog address to a few chosen and trusted people. Trisha, Alyssa, Meg, and a couple of friends who are very close to me, enough so that they will understand what I am writing about. I got mixed reviews, which was expected. But still, humans only want to hear the good stuff.... we are funny that way. Our wiring is such that even if it's not a direct insult, even if it's constructive criticism, it still stings. But that's why I finally decided to pull away the "anonymous" blogging and let people out there know I am writing. I appreciate comments.... bring them on. And besides.... it was getting almost embarrassing blogging everyday to "you have 0 followers". hah! So please, become a follower, let me know if I'm being a drag, or if I'm being boring. If you tell me the latter...just don't expect a Christmas card!
I'll start with Marjorie...after all, this is supposed to be all about her. WHEW... what can I say? Yesterday, I was thinking "MY GAAWD... I am giving you a good life woman!!!" Seriously..... she is spoiled rotten here. But again, no more or less than my kids. OK... actually she is more spoiled than them, because honestly, she is the most appreciative member of my family. She appreciates me, and all the stuff I do. Marjorie tells me everyday how grateful she is that she has me, and everything I do for her. For that reason, I tend to spoil her more. A little appreciation goes a long way. My two life-and-cash-sucking children should take a read of this, and take note. My entitled husband should take a read and take note..... OH but that won't happen this weekend, as he is heading off AGAIN... to go skiing for the weekend. Nice life. But on the flip side, I'm making him live with his dementia-ridden mother in law who feels him up at every chance she gets. Yeah. Ok. I take that back Pierre. You deserve a little entitlement.
So the bedtime routine begins last nite. I don't feel like I have to re-hash the longevity and repetitiveness that this routine entails, each and every nite, so I'll skip right to the point. At around 11:45pm, I finally gave up trying to get to sleep. Mum had her TV blaring so loud, that I could actually FEEL the vibration through the floor. This is a game. Mum turns it up, knowing that I'll come downstairs and into her room to turn it down. Last nite, I was trying DESPERATELY not to do that, to break the cycle I know that she is aiming for... company. Any way she can get it, she wants company. Even if it's me flying into her room, hair looking like a bad 80's back-comb, in my undies with my new VERY LARGE body out there... in all it's glory..... to turn down "that damn TV"... she wants it. Company. So I settled on the man couch in the living room to watch some PVR shows and avoid the unbearable noise of her TV right below me..... About 15 minutes go by, and out she comes, Marjorie. Looking confused and a little bit ruffled, she peeks around the corner and says "Oh hello there. I wasn't sure anyone was here right now." I asked her if everything was ok, and she replied "yes, but I was wondering if I could order a wee meal to my room? I missed dinner and I'm terribly peckish. I was supposed to have dinner with my husband but he never came home" Now, its hard to paint a picture of this with words.... the hardest part of writing is to give the reader a clear view of how a scenario went down, but imagine Mum, in her pj's, slightly confused, but not enough to overwhelm the fact that she was hungry. :) She systematically figured out that if she asked politely for a room service meal, she might actually get it. As she is explaining why she wants the meal... she is stuttering, stopping long enough to grab a sentence from her garbed brain, and that is what she came up with. And then the kicker.... I asked her what she felt like eating and she replied by asking me for a menu.... did we have one she could look at and she would get back to me. A MENU..... all this stemming from the one thought that is constant these days.....In her mind, she was in a hotel, or a boarding house. She was waiting for Dad, but he was not showing. She was hungry, and decided to take things into her own hands. I was proud and respectful of that, and a little amused at the part where she asked me for a menu. What I didn't mention, was that I offered her scrambled eggs on toast, she thought for a minute and that's when she asked for the menu. Obviously scrambled eggs was not what she was feeling like.
I sat Mum down on the couch, and I told her to sit tight as I made her a cup of tea. I then made her a grilled cheese sandwich (one of her favourites), and I brought it to her room, with her. Settled her in and we chatted as she finished the sandwich very quickly. As for my tip? She asked if I would be able to wait until tomorrow. I said "that's fine Mum"..... and I settled her down, for the last time. Goodnight Mum.
This morning, I brought her the usual toast, marmalade, juice (to take her meds) and coffee IN HER BED. First thing she did was make note that Dad was still not home. Did I have ANY idea where he was? So once again, I got the cordless phone, and pretended to talk to my Dad (at the hospital)... where he was ONCE again, stuck in a surgery and wouldn't be too much longer. She settled with that, she never asks to speak to him, and I think that deep down she knows that she can't. I left the room, looked at the phone and said. "Dad... you still there? Think maybe you MIGHT have wanted to give me a little heads up? Right about the time you put the death grip on my hand in the hospital, and made me promise that I would take care of Mum... right about there, do you think that maybe... JUST MAYBE you could've mention that Mum had AD related dementia? And that you'd known about it for years? and that maybe it was something that I should look into right away?" Dad didn't answer. Maybe he was too focused on his own worries. OR maybe he was regretting all the stuff he wrote about me in his will ... (yes Dad... I read the will and all the clauses you set forth for me before I would ever.. EVER get my hands on a penny.) Well thanks Dad. I'm doing a great job regardless of the fact that you left me (us) with little to no information to go on. I have no doubt I'll be calling you at some time tomorrow.
Yes, I am grappling with some anger at the lack of communication he left me with..... nothing. He gave us nothing. However, on a more positive note, I like to think that he was proud of us, confident in how we had all turned out, comforted by the fact that he knew we would all make the right decisions when it came to Mum. And that is how I choose to deal with the anger and frustration I sometimes feel for him.
Where are my tears....old man? You'd better be shedding some in heaven.... tears of joy, at how well your three kids have stepped up to the plate.
You'd better be ......
peace out.
Ok, except for the sound of the laundry going upstairs. I forgot to close the door and I'm too lazy to haul my fat ass upstairs to do it.
aaaaahhhhh... the sweet sound of peace and quiet..... with the distant hum of the washing machine. Positive thinking.. remember? It's my mantra.
Alot happened yesterday. I'm not even sure I can blog about everything, but I will try. First of all, I finally opened up and sent my blog address to a few chosen and trusted people. Trisha, Alyssa, Meg, and a couple of friends who are very close to me, enough so that they will understand what I am writing about. I got mixed reviews, which was expected. But still, humans only want to hear the good stuff.... we are funny that way. Our wiring is such that even if it's not a direct insult, even if it's constructive criticism, it still stings. But that's why I finally decided to pull away the "anonymous" blogging and let people out there know I am writing. I appreciate comments.... bring them on. And besides.... it was getting almost embarrassing blogging everyday to "you have 0 followers". hah! So please, become a follower, let me know if I'm being a drag, or if I'm being boring. If you tell me the latter...just don't expect a Christmas card!
I'll start with Marjorie...after all, this is supposed to be all about her. WHEW... what can I say? Yesterday, I was thinking "MY GAAWD... I am giving you a good life woman!!!" Seriously..... she is spoiled rotten here. But again, no more or less than my kids. OK... actually she is more spoiled than them, because honestly, she is the most appreciative member of my family. She appreciates me, and all the stuff I do. Marjorie tells me everyday how grateful she is that she has me, and everything I do for her. For that reason, I tend to spoil her more. A little appreciation goes a long way. My two life-and-cash-sucking children should take a read of this, and take note. My entitled husband should take a read and take note..... OH but that won't happen this weekend, as he is heading off AGAIN... to go skiing for the weekend. Nice life. But on the flip side, I'm making him live with his dementia-ridden mother in law who feels him up at every chance she gets. Yeah. Ok. I take that back Pierre. You deserve a little entitlement.
So the bedtime routine begins last nite. I don't feel like I have to re-hash the longevity and repetitiveness that this routine entails, each and every nite, so I'll skip right to the point. At around 11:45pm, I finally gave up trying to get to sleep. Mum had her TV blaring so loud, that I could actually FEEL the vibration through the floor. This is a game. Mum turns it up, knowing that I'll come downstairs and into her room to turn it down. Last nite, I was trying DESPERATELY not to do that, to break the cycle I know that she is aiming for... company. Any way she can get it, she wants company. Even if it's me flying into her room, hair looking like a bad 80's back-comb, in my undies with my new VERY LARGE body out there... in all it's glory..... to turn down "that damn TV"... she wants it. Company. So I settled on the man couch in the living room to watch some PVR shows and avoid the unbearable noise of her TV right below me..... About 15 minutes go by, and out she comes, Marjorie. Looking confused and a little bit ruffled, she peeks around the corner and says "Oh hello there. I wasn't sure anyone was here right now." I asked her if everything was ok, and she replied "yes, but I was wondering if I could order a wee meal to my room? I missed dinner and I'm terribly peckish. I was supposed to have dinner with my husband but he never came home" Now, its hard to paint a picture of this with words.... the hardest part of writing is to give the reader a clear view of how a scenario went down, but imagine Mum, in her pj's, slightly confused, but not enough to overwhelm the fact that she was hungry. :) She systematically figured out that if she asked politely for a room service meal, she might actually get it. As she is explaining why she wants the meal... she is stuttering, stopping long enough to grab a sentence from her garbed brain, and that is what she came up with. And then the kicker.... I asked her what she felt like eating and she replied by asking me for a menu.... did we have one she could look at and she would get back to me. A MENU..... all this stemming from the one thought that is constant these days.....In her mind, she was in a hotel, or a boarding house. She was waiting for Dad, but he was not showing. She was hungry, and decided to take things into her own hands. I was proud and respectful of that, and a little amused at the part where she asked me for a menu. What I didn't mention, was that I offered her scrambled eggs on toast, she thought for a minute and that's when she asked for the menu. Obviously scrambled eggs was not what she was feeling like.
I sat Mum down on the couch, and I told her to sit tight as I made her a cup of tea. I then made her a grilled cheese sandwich (one of her favourites), and I brought it to her room, with her. Settled her in and we chatted as she finished the sandwich very quickly. As for my tip? She asked if I would be able to wait until tomorrow. I said "that's fine Mum"..... and I settled her down, for the last time. Goodnight Mum.
This morning, I brought her the usual toast, marmalade, juice (to take her meds) and coffee IN HER BED. First thing she did was make note that Dad was still not home. Did I have ANY idea where he was? So once again, I got the cordless phone, and pretended to talk to my Dad (at the hospital)... where he was ONCE again, stuck in a surgery and wouldn't be too much longer. She settled with that, she never asks to speak to him, and I think that deep down she knows that she can't. I left the room, looked at the phone and said. "Dad... you still there? Think maybe you MIGHT have wanted to give me a little heads up? Right about the time you put the death grip on my hand in the hospital, and made me promise that I would take care of Mum... right about there, do you think that maybe... JUST MAYBE you could've mention that Mum had AD related dementia? And that you'd known about it for years? and that maybe it was something that I should look into right away?" Dad didn't answer. Maybe he was too focused on his own worries. OR maybe he was regretting all the stuff he wrote about me in his will ... (yes Dad... I read the will and all the clauses you set forth for me before I would ever.. EVER get my hands on a penny.) Well thanks Dad. I'm doing a great job regardless of the fact that you left me (us) with little to no information to go on. I have no doubt I'll be calling you at some time tomorrow.
Yes, I am grappling with some anger at the lack of communication he left me with..... nothing. He gave us nothing. However, on a more positive note, I like to think that he was proud of us, confident in how we had all turned out, comforted by the fact that he knew we would all make the right decisions when it came to Mum. And that is how I choose to deal with the anger and frustration I sometimes feel for him.
Where are my tears....old man? You'd better be shedding some in heaven.... tears of joy, at how well your three kids have stepped up to the plate.
You'd better be ......
peace out.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
the Turtle and the Hare
You never know where life is goingto take you, do you? The twists, turns, major and minor events, changes and decisions that direct and re-direct your path in this world, they are all so unpredictable. You could look at this positively and tell yourself this is what makes life exciting and worth living. Or you could go the other way and fall into a spiral of negativity, telling yourself that you are not in control and cannot do anything about the changes in your direction, especially the bad changes.
I try very hard not to fall into the second category. Its a no-win situation to be in. When I say I try hard, that doesn't mean I have never let myself go there. Believe me, I HAVE... on more than one occasion. If you place the two choices side by side, and weigh the pros and cons of each, you will see that it's much harder to stay in the positive category. It takes work to stay there.... to be positive and to make the most of where life is taking you at that present time, especially if that place you are heading is not a good one. If you are experiencing a change that is scary, difficult, generally NOT positive, it's much easier, in the moment, to let yourself wallow and fall onto the negative side. But I stress the phrase "in the moment". It's almost comforting to let yourself go to the dark place, to be negative and self-pitying. Much easier than the hard work it takes to stay positive. In the long run, however, it is a much easier road to stay positive, than to have to pull yourself out of that black spiral of negativity that you have let yourself fall into. Sort of akin to the Turtle and the rabbit. Slow and steady, keeping your head above water, staying positive... this far outweighs the sprint to self-pity, to the dark, sad place you can let yourself go to with such ease. It happens fast, you get there quick, but the destination is not the one you were looking for. Slow, steady and positive... that wins the race.
I really need to learn how to place pictures on this blog. I am sitting here at my kitchen table, and the view out the back of my house is really nice. Snow on the ground, trees and people out running their dog in the soccer field. It paints a pretty pic. I have the galaxy "holiday channel" on that is playing alot of country christmas music. So I am sort of relaxed and trying to enjoy enteringing in my daily blog, with a fresh cup of coffee and Ozzie lying peacefully at my feet.
OK...... I just gave you an example of how I have chosen this morning, to go the positive route. Mum was up pretty much most of the nite. Her confusion is really taking over now, and it didn't help that she had soiled herself, and by the time I got to her, she had made a huge mess in the bathroom, trying to hide the mess she had already made in the bed. She was visibly beside herself, angry and argumentative. Insistent that I was to leave her alone, and that I had no business being in there and treating her like a baby. She pointed at the soiled mess and adamently stated it was embarassing for her to have me see her in such a state. She had her period, and she would appreciate some privacy. "Geesh Mum.... that is no period.... or at least it doesn't SMELL like a period!!!" (humour... always remember the humour... and I THOUGHT that... I did not say that).
It took a total of about 45 minutes for me to completely clean the mess. I have found that if you just leave everything, and focus on getting her comfy, clean and warm, followed by getting her bed the same, then add a nice hot cup of tea and some cookies, she will settle into her bed and I was then able to move onto the mess in the bathroom.
2,3 and 4am laundry runs are now a norm in my house. I can't explain it, but 16 mos ago, when I tried to chinze out on the extra $600 they wanted for a sound-proof door and extra insulation in the laundry room upstairs, my husband dug his feet in and we ended up getting it.... despite my resistance. So thank you Pierre, once again, you were right. Obviously a much wiser person than me... my husband.
So finally, around 4:15am, she settled into a sleep. I crept upstairs, into bed, closed my eyes just long enough to fall asleep and then was awakened by Pierre wanting to know if I would have coffee with him. Yes, of course I would. It's the only time we really get to spend together, so I crawled out of my bed and started my day.
So here I sit. Kids are off to school, Pierre off to work.... lunches all packed, breakfasts made for all of them, and I am now blogging to you the last 12 hours of my life. Did I know I would end up here? Caregiving for my mother with Dementia? No. I most definately did not. This time, four years ago, I would have been sitting at my desk trying to figure out what meeting I had next, writing requirements for the next system fix, and researching/testing the fix that had just gone in. I would have a starbucks on my desk beside me, intelligent (or mostly) adults coming and going, looking to me for something or another, and finally lunch with my work husband to look forward to, as we met everyday for lunch. Alot to be sad about, alot to miss, alot to be bitter about. Because instead of all that I just described, I get to change adult diapers, feed, bath and cloth my mother (FOR THE SECOND TIME in 12 hours). I get to make her lunch, and listen to her repetitive questions, watch her as she circles around the breakfast bar and kitchen, re-arranging stuff left and right. Sad....yes..... not exactly the life I thought I would be living right now. Not at all.
That being said, I wish to return to what I was originally typing. My quiet house, with music playing, fresh coffee, Ozzie at my feet, Isaac sleeping peacefully beside me, my children left this morning after eating hot, fresh breakfasts, and will eat the same for lunch. My husband left with a hot breakfast in his tummy, and an even better hot lunch. Here I sit, looking at my view, typing my opinions and experiences to you so that you can see the difference a little bit of positive thinking can bring. I am lucky to be here. I am lucky to be caring for my mother, and in the same breath , caring for my family. Some days I realize that what I'm doing is an amazing deed for another human being. Other days I think I am trapped and forced to do this., but honestly, as the days go by, I am finding myself thinking that I am lucky to be doing this. I am changing someone's life who is very important to me, and that is enough to keep me going for one more day.
More and more..... I have become the Turtle.
peace out.
I try very hard not to fall into the second category. Its a no-win situation to be in. When I say I try hard, that doesn't mean I have never let myself go there. Believe me, I HAVE... on more than one occasion. If you place the two choices side by side, and weigh the pros and cons of each, you will see that it's much harder to stay in the positive category. It takes work to stay there.... to be positive and to make the most of where life is taking you at that present time, especially if that place you are heading is not a good one. If you are experiencing a change that is scary, difficult, generally NOT positive, it's much easier, in the moment, to let yourself wallow and fall onto the negative side. But I stress the phrase "in the moment". It's almost comforting to let yourself go to the dark place, to be negative and self-pitying. Much easier than the hard work it takes to stay positive. In the long run, however, it is a much easier road to stay positive, than to have to pull yourself out of that black spiral of negativity that you have let yourself fall into. Sort of akin to the Turtle and the rabbit. Slow and steady, keeping your head above water, staying positive... this far outweighs the sprint to self-pity, to the dark, sad place you can let yourself go to with such ease. It happens fast, you get there quick, but the destination is not the one you were looking for. Slow, steady and positive... that wins the race.
I really need to learn how to place pictures on this blog. I am sitting here at my kitchen table, and the view out the back of my house is really nice. Snow on the ground, trees and people out running their dog in the soccer field. It paints a pretty pic. I have the galaxy "holiday channel" on that is playing alot of country christmas music. So I am sort of relaxed and trying to enjoy enteringing in my daily blog, with a fresh cup of coffee and Ozzie lying peacefully at my feet.
OK...... I just gave you an example of how I have chosen this morning, to go the positive route. Mum was up pretty much most of the nite. Her confusion is really taking over now, and it didn't help that she had soiled herself, and by the time I got to her, she had made a huge mess in the bathroom, trying to hide the mess she had already made in the bed. She was visibly beside herself, angry and argumentative. Insistent that I was to leave her alone, and that I had no business being in there and treating her like a baby. She pointed at the soiled mess and adamently stated it was embarassing for her to have me see her in such a state. She had her period, and she would appreciate some privacy. "Geesh Mum.... that is no period.... or at least it doesn't SMELL like a period!!!" (humour... always remember the humour... and I THOUGHT that... I did not say that).
It took a total of about 45 minutes for me to completely clean the mess. I have found that if you just leave everything, and focus on getting her comfy, clean and warm, followed by getting her bed the same, then add a nice hot cup of tea and some cookies, she will settle into her bed and I was then able to move onto the mess in the bathroom.
2,3 and 4am laundry runs are now a norm in my house. I can't explain it, but 16 mos ago, when I tried to chinze out on the extra $600 they wanted for a sound-proof door and extra insulation in the laundry room upstairs, my husband dug his feet in and we ended up getting it.... despite my resistance. So thank you Pierre, once again, you were right. Obviously a much wiser person than me... my husband.
So finally, around 4:15am, she settled into a sleep. I crept upstairs, into bed, closed my eyes just long enough to fall asleep and then was awakened by Pierre wanting to know if I would have coffee with him. Yes, of course I would. It's the only time we really get to spend together, so I crawled out of my bed and started my day.
So here I sit. Kids are off to school, Pierre off to work.... lunches all packed, breakfasts made for all of them, and I am now blogging to you the last 12 hours of my life. Did I know I would end up here? Caregiving for my mother with Dementia? No. I most definately did not. This time, four years ago, I would have been sitting at my desk trying to figure out what meeting I had next, writing requirements for the next system fix, and researching/testing the fix that had just gone in. I would have a starbucks on my desk beside me, intelligent (or mostly) adults coming and going, looking to me for something or another, and finally lunch with my work husband to look forward to, as we met everyday for lunch. Alot to be sad about, alot to miss, alot to be bitter about. Because instead of all that I just described, I get to change adult diapers, feed, bath and cloth my mother (FOR THE SECOND TIME in 12 hours). I get to make her lunch, and listen to her repetitive questions, watch her as she circles around the breakfast bar and kitchen, re-arranging stuff left and right. Sad....yes..... not exactly the life I thought I would be living right now. Not at all.
That being said, I wish to return to what I was originally typing. My quiet house, with music playing, fresh coffee, Ozzie at my feet, Isaac sleeping peacefully beside me, my children left this morning after eating hot, fresh breakfasts, and will eat the same for lunch. My husband left with a hot breakfast in his tummy, and an even better hot lunch. Here I sit, looking at my view, typing my opinions and experiences to you so that you can see the difference a little bit of positive thinking can bring. I am lucky to be here. I am lucky to be caring for my mother, and in the same breath , caring for my family. Some days I realize that what I'm doing is an amazing deed for another human being. Other days I think I am trapped and forced to do this., but honestly, as the days go by, I am finding myself thinking that I am lucky to be doing this. I am changing someone's life who is very important to me, and that is enough to keep me going for one more day.
More and more..... I have become the Turtle.
peace out.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
my god ... I'm bitter and crabby today.
I know I've already posted today, but I feel like I need to vent some more. Earlier I spoke of being overwhelmed. Tonight I am just DONE.
Mum was really agitated tonight. She really didn't have any idea where she was, or who I was half the time.
She kept going back to the same idea that she was staying here, and that here was a boarding house. Over and over and over again. I tried everything to calm her. I even gave her a small glass of real wine, in hopes that her nerves would be calmed. Nope.... nothing worked, not even that.
I am burnt tonight. My nerves are frayed, I'm crabby and I just want to be left alone. This is a huge stress that we experience caregiving..... it's the constant "being on" that drains me so badly. My house was full of people tonight, all the same people, my family, but it's always me that Mum goes to. She is beside me, asking the same questions, in the kitchen, in the living room. I can't even sneak out for a puff, and she follows insisting on joining me, being with me, despite the below freezing temps outside. I cannot even lock the bathroom door anymore, when I go, because she becomes panicked if she cannot find me, or if she does, and cannot open the door. Constantly on. Does anybody else (out there) get this feeling? Or is it just me... quirky me.
It's no wonder so many of us turn to alcohol to try and get some calm, some serenity. I tried this, believe me I did. All summer I downed my share of cocktails every nite... yes every nite. Some nites 5, others 3, and on occasion I'd have more than 5. But the mornings were just not worth it. For one thing I do know now, is that you cannot.... YOU CANNOT do this job with even the slightest hangover. It's just torture. It's not fair to you, the family or the patient. So the alcohol did not work out for me. Maybe I'll try again in the summer.
My husband just came into my bedroom. He's wanting to spend time with me and watch "The Walking Dead" together. I don't have the heart to tell him that I cannot stand the though of being in the same room as another human being right now. And that includes him. I've already seen the whole series, watched it over a few nites that Mum didn't sleep well.
Gawd... get out and leave me in peace.
peace out.
I know I've already posted today, but I feel like I need to vent some more. Earlier I spoke of being overwhelmed. Tonight I am just DONE.
Mum was really agitated tonight. She really didn't have any idea where she was, or who I was half the time.
She kept going back to the same idea that she was staying here, and that here was a boarding house. Over and over and over again. I tried everything to calm her. I even gave her a small glass of real wine, in hopes that her nerves would be calmed. Nope.... nothing worked, not even that.
I am burnt tonight. My nerves are frayed, I'm crabby and I just want to be left alone. This is a huge stress that we experience caregiving..... it's the constant "being on" that drains me so badly. My house was full of people tonight, all the same people, my family, but it's always me that Mum goes to. She is beside me, asking the same questions, in the kitchen, in the living room. I can't even sneak out for a puff, and she follows insisting on joining me, being with me, despite the below freezing temps outside. I cannot even lock the bathroom door anymore, when I go, because she becomes panicked if she cannot find me, or if she does, and cannot open the door. Constantly on. Does anybody else (out there) get this feeling? Or is it just me... quirky me.
It's no wonder so many of us turn to alcohol to try and get some calm, some serenity. I tried this, believe me I did. All summer I downed my share of cocktails every nite... yes every nite. Some nites 5, others 3, and on occasion I'd have more than 5. But the mornings were just not worth it. For one thing I do know now, is that you cannot.... YOU CANNOT do this job with even the slightest hangover. It's just torture. It's not fair to you, the family or the patient. So the alcohol did not work out for me. Maybe I'll try again in the summer.
My husband just came into my bedroom. He's wanting to spend time with me and watch "The Walking Dead" together. I don't have the heart to tell him that I cannot stand the though of being in the same room as another human being right now. And that includes him. I've already seen the whole series, watched it over a few nites that Mum didn't sleep well.
Gawd... get out and leave me in peace.
peace out.
Being Overwhelmed By Crickets
"During the later stages of dementia most people will become increasingly frail due to the progress of the illness. They will also gradually become totally dependent on others for all their care."
This is a quote from one of the many Alzheimer's websites I visit each day. This particular one is from the UK website, (http://www.alzheimers.org.uk/ ) which I generally prefer over all the rest. Canada's ( http://www.alzheimer.ca/ ) is a close second, as they both have realistic, factual and helpful information on AD. However, none of the websites I have encountered, so far, have the balls to really tell the truth about caregiving for a dementia patient. This quote outlines a small byte out of the actual reality of AD....in it's later stages.
They all tell you the warning signs of caregiver burnout, stress, importance of rest etc. Take time for yourself, take breaks, get away, talk to someone, be informed... blah... blah... blah, but nobody seems to want to speak the truth about what caring for a dementia patient really entails...... I'm goingto try and do that this morning. Much like the websites... I will probably only manage a small sound-byte. There are thousands of us out there.. maybe millions, all living the same nitemare. And for the most part, we are living it silently.
Ok. Already, I am overwhelmed with information that I want to vomit out onto this post. Already, I need to take a break, make a coffee and have some silence to contemplate what it is, exactly, that I'm goingto write today. Maybe I should start with the feeling of being constantly overwhelmed, after my coffee. My break cannot be too long though, Mum will be on the move soon.
Yes.... maybe I will start with being overwhelmed.
I took alot longer of a break than anticipated. Mum was hungry, and then due her meds, and today was also shower day, followed by a linen change. By that time it was lunch and she was hungry again. We ate, had a wee cup of tea and then I put her to work folding laundry. I thought I might get some writing in whilst the laundry was being folded, but now even that task is becoming difficult for her. But mental note: folding laundry is one of THE best tasks that you can have a dementia patient do. It is also one of the best calming techniques, especially if you combine it with music from their era.
Ah... I got sidetracked again.
Ok. When I originally started writing this morning, I was goingto start off with the fact that most caregivers are overwhelmed. That was my chosen topic in my "expose" of the world of a caregiver. So let's get to the root and the actual dictionary definition of "overwhelmed"
"To cover over completely, as by a great wave; to overflow and bury beneath; to ingulf; hence, figuratively, to immerse and bear down; to overpower; to crush; to bury; to oppress, etc., overpoweringly."
This is, of course, the definition in it's present tense. But yes, a good description of what a caregiver feels daily. Being overwhelmed is a terrible feeling. The simplest thing, like getting a utility bill, seems like it's the final straw. I'm not quite sure how we get to feeling this way, but I have a couple of theories. I believe that watching your loved one slip away, die slowly and dissapear, usually over a lengthy period of time, is just too much for a human to bear. I imagine that this is not just the case with dementia, this can also be the case for many terminal diseases. For example, today Marjorie has absolutely no idea where she is. In her mind, my house is a "boarding" house, that she is renting a room in, and she is convinced that I will be leaving her shortly to return home to my house. (which is really far away....she doesn't know where, only that it's far). I have been listening to this now for close to four hours. She is agitated, concerned about being alone here, worried about me leaving, and just will not let it go...like a dog with a bone. At this moment, I am feeling suffocated, short tempered, angry, impatient and I have this overwhelming impulse to run out the front door and just keep going. As I'm typing and writing, she is knattering in my ear, asking me when I'm leaving, etc.
Right now, I am overwhelmed with the pressure of her repetitiveness, her agitation, her inability to complete any task on her own, and the constant toileting duties I'm now performing. Just about the time that I thought I was goingto have a meltdown, my husband walked through the door with a pile of bills. That was the last straw. Right now, in my mind, I am melting down. I am imagining myself screaming and yelling. Crying and stomping my feet. Throwing dishes and smashing stuff. In real life I am sitting here quietly typing away on the computer and trying to keep everything under control. Sipping my tea and focusing on my computer screen. This cannot be healthy, but it's the way it has to be. Overwhelmed. That is an example of how I am feeling when I'm overwhelmed.
So how do we deal with this? I also have some views that I will share with you, on how to handle this daily feeling. Now my techniques work for me.... they may not work for everyone.
I internalize, ALOT. As we all know from our psych 101 courses, this is not good. But it's what seems to work for me at the moment. I combine this internalization with other techniques....the best and biggest being humour. Humour is my saving grace.
Let's go back a year or so, shortly after I adopted Isaac, my bearded dragon. My house was still brand new, still had the "new house smell", and I was still anal about everything from floors to walls, carpet to windows. that eventually wears off, thank gawd... but at the time of this story, I was not over the new house honeymoon yet. I took Mum to the pet store, where I buy my dragon superworms and crickets. It's what she eats. We arrive home with 75 fresh alive worms and over 100 live crickets along with a small shopping. As I put the shopping away, I took a break for a puff (out in my garage) and by the time I returned, Marjorie was waving the empty cricket bag around the kitchen. Her response when I asked her what she was doing.... "They can't breathe, and will die in that plastic bag!!!!!"
One year later, I still have live crickets living all over my house.
Humour. I find this a really funny story. I could've freaked, but I didn't. Instead I found the humour and internalized the rage. :) Not the greatest coping mechanism you may say... but an effective one none-the-less. Overwhelmed by the thought of all those crickets roaming my house, I chose to look at the humour. I posted it on facebook, told the story at a party that weekend, told the workmen in the house that week, told my friends at the rink..... I told it to everyone. They all found it hilarious. Because it was.
Your loved one (with dementia) will do some really crazy things. Things that are unexplanable. But if you sit back and internalize, take a deep breath, assess the damage (making sure, of course that there is no one hurt or no imminent danger), I can guarrantee that you will find a hilarious story in their unexplainable actions.
There will also be the exhasperation, the anger, the frustration....... but if you can just get past that long enough to see the humour, you'll have taken a huge step towards managing that feeling of being overwhelmed. Even if it's just for a second. It's relieving.
This is a quote from one of the many Alzheimer's websites I visit each day. This particular one is from the UK website, (http://www.alzheimers.org.uk/ ) which I generally prefer over all the rest. Canada's ( http://www.alzheimer.ca/ ) is a close second, as they both have realistic, factual and helpful information on AD. However, none of the websites I have encountered, so far, have the balls to really tell the truth about caregiving for a dementia patient. This quote outlines a small byte out of the actual reality of AD....in it's later stages.
They all tell you the warning signs of caregiver burnout, stress, importance of rest etc. Take time for yourself, take breaks, get away, talk to someone, be informed... blah... blah... blah, but nobody seems to want to speak the truth about what caring for a dementia patient really entails...... I'm goingto try and do that this morning. Much like the websites... I will probably only manage a small sound-byte. There are thousands of us out there.. maybe millions, all living the same nitemare. And for the most part, we are living it silently.
Ok. Already, I am overwhelmed with information that I want to vomit out onto this post. Already, I need to take a break, make a coffee and have some silence to contemplate what it is, exactly, that I'm goingto write today. Maybe I should start with the feeling of being constantly overwhelmed, after my coffee. My break cannot be too long though, Mum will be on the move soon.
Yes.... maybe I will start with being overwhelmed.
I took alot longer of a break than anticipated. Mum was hungry, and then due her meds, and today was also shower day, followed by a linen change. By that time it was lunch and she was hungry again. We ate, had a wee cup of tea and then I put her to work folding laundry. I thought I might get some writing in whilst the laundry was being folded, but now even that task is becoming difficult for her. But mental note: folding laundry is one of THE best tasks that you can have a dementia patient do. It is also one of the best calming techniques, especially if you combine it with music from their era.
Ah... I got sidetracked again.
Ok. When I originally started writing this morning, I was goingto start off with the fact that most caregivers are overwhelmed. That was my chosen topic in my "expose" of the world of a caregiver. So let's get to the root and the actual dictionary definition of "overwhelmed"
"To cover over completely, as by a great wave; to overflow and bury beneath; to ingulf; hence, figuratively, to immerse and bear down; to overpower; to crush; to bury; to oppress, etc., overpoweringly."
This is, of course, the definition in it's present tense. But yes, a good description of what a caregiver feels daily. Being overwhelmed is a terrible feeling. The simplest thing, like getting a utility bill, seems like it's the final straw. I'm not quite sure how we get to feeling this way, but I have a couple of theories. I believe that watching your loved one slip away, die slowly and dissapear, usually over a lengthy period of time, is just too much for a human to bear. I imagine that this is not just the case with dementia, this can also be the case for many terminal diseases. For example, today Marjorie has absolutely no idea where she is. In her mind, my house is a "boarding" house, that she is renting a room in, and she is convinced that I will be leaving her shortly to return home to my house. (which is really far away....she doesn't know where, only that it's far). I have been listening to this now for close to four hours. She is agitated, concerned about being alone here, worried about me leaving, and just will not let it go...like a dog with a bone. At this moment, I am feeling suffocated, short tempered, angry, impatient and I have this overwhelming impulse to run out the front door and just keep going. As I'm typing and writing, she is knattering in my ear, asking me when I'm leaving, etc.
Right now, I am overwhelmed with the pressure of her repetitiveness, her agitation, her inability to complete any task on her own, and the constant toileting duties I'm now performing. Just about the time that I thought I was goingto have a meltdown, my husband walked through the door with a pile of bills. That was the last straw. Right now, in my mind, I am melting down. I am imagining myself screaming and yelling. Crying and stomping my feet. Throwing dishes and smashing stuff. In real life I am sitting here quietly typing away on the computer and trying to keep everything under control. Sipping my tea and focusing on my computer screen. This cannot be healthy, but it's the way it has to be. Overwhelmed. That is an example of how I am feeling when I'm overwhelmed.
So how do we deal with this? I also have some views that I will share with you, on how to handle this daily feeling. Now my techniques work for me.... they may not work for everyone.
I internalize, ALOT. As we all know from our psych 101 courses, this is not good. But it's what seems to work for me at the moment. I combine this internalization with other techniques....the best and biggest being humour. Humour is my saving grace.
Let's go back a year or so, shortly after I adopted Isaac, my bearded dragon. My house was still brand new, still had the "new house smell", and I was still anal about everything from floors to walls, carpet to windows. that eventually wears off, thank gawd... but at the time of this story, I was not over the new house honeymoon yet. I took Mum to the pet store, where I buy my dragon superworms and crickets. It's what she eats. We arrive home with 75 fresh alive worms and over 100 live crickets along with a small shopping. As I put the shopping away, I took a break for a puff (out in my garage) and by the time I returned, Marjorie was waving the empty cricket bag around the kitchen. Her response when I asked her what she was doing.... "They can't breathe, and will die in that plastic bag!!!!!"
One year later, I still have live crickets living all over my house.
Humour. I find this a really funny story. I could've freaked, but I didn't. Instead I found the humour and internalized the rage. :) Not the greatest coping mechanism you may say... but an effective one none-the-less. Overwhelmed by the thought of all those crickets roaming my house, I chose to look at the humour. I posted it on facebook, told the story at a party that weekend, told the workmen in the house that week, told my friends at the rink..... I told it to everyone. They all found it hilarious. Because it was.
Your loved one (with dementia) will do some really crazy things. Things that are unexplanable. But if you sit back and internalize, take a deep breath, assess the damage (making sure, of course that there is no one hurt or no imminent danger), I can guarrantee that you will find a hilarious story in their unexplainable actions.
There will also be the exhasperation, the anger, the frustration....... but if you can just get past that long enough to see the humour, you'll have taken a huge step towards managing that feeling of being overwhelmed. Even if it's just for a second. It's relieving.
Monday, December 6, 2010
The Cost of having Alzheimers
Estimate the costs of care
That is mum attending the day program two days per week (for approx 4.5 hrs). That is Mum attending respite care a total of 33 days in 2010. As a caregiver, I am allowed up to 90 days per year, but at a cost of $ 69.00 per day, which is very reasonable. She has her feet taken care of by a podiatrist to ensure that she has no corns, warts or problems with her feet in terms of fungus etc. And imagine, even after all this, we are still ahead approx 12-20k a year as opposed to a long-term care facility.
my next decision is to bring in a nanny full time to help me with the careing duties. In a perfect world, I would be able to return to work and start bringing in a salary that pays a little more than the $2.05 per hour I am now getting paid. My current salary will be transferred to the nanny.
So unless my Dad left her a million dollars somewhere, we are looking at a bleak future if Mum lives another 10-15 years... which she might very well pull off. At least if I'm working again, I will be able to help with the upkeep of stuff like... oooooooh FOOOD and SHELTER!!! :) We have distributed a small amount of her cash, most of it sunk into my "state of the art" alzheimer's house. Which ultimately was an awesome investment, as I have her care and well-being all taken care of here. So this is where we shall stay.
Lupeeda: If you can hear me......... I need you . I think you are a caring soul who will grow to love and adore the woman I take care of. We will make you comfy and cozy as possible, and try to give you an environment that will please you so that you stay with us for quite a while.
I think you will be great asset.
peace out.
In planning for long-term care, consider all the costs you might face now and in the future. Alzheimer’s is a progressive disease, and the type and level of care a person needs will change over time. Costs may include:
• Ongoing medical treatment (feet, hair, personal hygiene etc)=$146.00
• Treatment for other medical conditions (Dental care) = $14, 000 (total for 2009-10)
• Prescription drugs $5200 (for 2010)
• Personal care supplies $2000 (incontinence supplies, pads, wipes etc)
• Adult day services - $2400
• In-home care services - $4000.00
• Residential care services, including assisted living and nursing homes (Respite) $3500.00
That is mum attending the day program two days per week (for approx 4.5 hrs). That is Mum attending respite care a total of 33 days in 2010. As a caregiver, I am allowed up to 90 days per year, but at a cost of $ 69.00 per day, which is very reasonable. She has her feet taken care of by a podiatrist to ensure that she has no corns, warts or problems with her feet in terms of fungus etc. And imagine, even after all this, we are still ahead approx 12-20k a year as opposed to a long-term care facility.
my next decision is to bring in a nanny full time to help me with the careing duties. In a perfect world, I would be able to return to work and start bringing in a salary that pays a little more than the $2.05 per hour I am now getting paid. My current salary will be transferred to the nanny.
So unless my Dad left her a million dollars somewhere, we are looking at a bleak future if Mum lives another 10-15 years... which she might very well pull off. At least if I'm working again, I will be able to help with the upkeep of stuff like... oooooooh FOOOD and SHELTER!!! :) We have distributed a small amount of her cash, most of it sunk into my "state of the art" alzheimer's house. Which ultimately was an awesome investment, as I have her care and well-being all taken care of here. So this is where we shall stay.
Lupeeda: If you can hear me......... I need you . I think you are a caring soul who will grow to love and adore the woman I take care of. We will make you comfy and cozy as possible, and try to give you an environment that will please you so that you stay with us for quite a while.
I think you will be great asset.
peace out.
The Hallway of Hospice.
What a ride this last few days has been. Now I could stand back and look at this in different ways.
1 way being that I'm suffering punishment for placing Mum in respite for 12 days. That this is my pennance for leaving her. I don't believe that for a minute. The way I see this is that I reeeeally needed a rest. Without these rests (which is why they call it respite, FOR THE CAREGIVERS), I would not be able to function at the level I am currently. I would not be able to provide the environment for Mum, that I do. And while we are talking about that, I provide a pretty amazing environment for her, this I know for sure and I am very proud of. So I refuse to blame the troubles we are having on my ever so prescious Respite care. Its a service I cannot live without. NOR SHOULD ANY CAREGIVER!!!!
So here we are on Day number 4. So many changes over the last few weeks. If you were to speak to me a year, or two ago, I would've told you that I was planning on caring for Mum until I was no longer able to do it. Sitting writing this, at this very moment, I am no longer able to care for her! This is a hard statement to say out loud. Next step is to get the wheels and motions moving to transfer her into a long-term care facility. Not for me, however, my plan is a bit different. I am makingthe commitment to care for her until she passes. I want her to be here, surrounded by family, and those who love her so that she knows, somehow in that jumbled brain of hers, that we did everything we possibly could, to make the last years of her life easy, comfy and safe.
Marjorie washed my blackberry and my netbook yesterday. Under the running tap, with soap a soap brush scrubber and all. She then placed them to dry on the drying rack. By the time I realized what she had done, it was too late. Was I mad? Freakin' right I was, but she thought she was helping as both gadgets WERE filthy. I took them and place them both in bags of rice. Rice is supposed to soak up all the excess water, so let's hope it works. This was followed by the river of shit, that happened later on yesterday. Thankfully, no one was hurt. Damage? well that is a long list of "stuff" that can ultimately be fixed or replaced. So not a complete loss in my books.
This Thursday, I am having a hospital bed delivered to my house. She is no longer able to be in a normal bed due to her wandering at nite. Last nite she was trying desperately to get outside, because she felt that she had to sweep the front porch which was covered in ice and snow from the storm.
So today is a new day. I will have a plumber and and electrician here today to assess the damage to the basement as well as my heating system and the floor in her bedroom. The addition of the hospital bed will aid in more prevention of her wandering, as I'll be able to get to her prior to her actually leaving the bed.
I guess what is weighing most heavily on my mind this morning, is the fact that My Mum cannot work the toilet properly anymore. She really has no idea how to use it, where the toilet paper goes, and how the whole flushing process works. More often than not, she asks me if she should go to the bathroom "in here" as she points to the shower.
It's happening, she is losing her abillities to understand basic, daily tasks and objects. I sit here watching this and I am constantly surprised and saddened at how fast she is progressing now. Its only a matter of time now. A matter of time till what ? you are probably asking? That is a question I cannot answer right now, but I'll certainly let you know as I go.
Same goes for the qustions "how long do you think she has?" All I can tell you is that we just opened the door to hospice care.....so now we are walking down that hallway.
peace out.
1 way being that I'm suffering punishment for placing Mum in respite for 12 days. That this is my pennance for leaving her. I don't believe that for a minute. The way I see this is that I reeeeally needed a rest. Without these rests (which is why they call it respite, FOR THE CAREGIVERS), I would not be able to function at the level I am currently. I would not be able to provide the environment for Mum, that I do. And while we are talking about that, I provide a pretty amazing environment for her, this I know for sure and I am very proud of. So I refuse to blame the troubles we are having on my ever so prescious Respite care. Its a service I cannot live without. NOR SHOULD ANY CAREGIVER!!!!
So here we are on Day number 4. So many changes over the last few weeks. If you were to speak to me a year, or two ago, I would've told you that I was planning on caring for Mum until I was no longer able to do it. Sitting writing this, at this very moment, I am no longer able to care for her! This is a hard statement to say out loud. Next step is to get the wheels and motions moving to transfer her into a long-term care facility. Not for me, however, my plan is a bit different. I am makingthe commitment to care for her until she passes. I want her to be here, surrounded by family, and those who love her so that she knows, somehow in that jumbled brain of hers, that we did everything we possibly could, to make the last years of her life easy, comfy and safe.
Marjorie washed my blackberry and my netbook yesterday. Under the running tap, with soap a soap brush scrubber and all. She then placed them to dry on the drying rack. By the time I realized what she had done, it was too late. Was I mad? Freakin' right I was, but she thought she was helping as both gadgets WERE filthy. I took them and place them both in bags of rice. Rice is supposed to soak up all the excess water, so let's hope it works. This was followed by the river of shit, that happened later on yesterday. Thankfully, no one was hurt. Damage? well that is a long list of "stuff" that can ultimately be fixed or replaced. So not a complete loss in my books.
This Thursday, I am having a hospital bed delivered to my house. She is no longer able to be in a normal bed due to her wandering at nite. Last nite she was trying desperately to get outside, because she felt that she had to sweep the front porch which was covered in ice and snow from the storm.
So today is a new day. I will have a plumber and and electrician here today to assess the damage to the basement as well as my heating system and the floor in her bedroom. The addition of the hospital bed will aid in more prevention of her wandering, as I'll be able to get to her prior to her actually leaving the bed.
I guess what is weighing most heavily on my mind this morning, is the fact that My Mum cannot work the toilet properly anymore. She really has no idea how to use it, where the toilet paper goes, and how the whole flushing process works. More often than not, she asks me if she should go to the bathroom "in here" as she points to the shower.
It's happening, she is losing her abillities to understand basic, daily tasks and objects. I sit here watching this and I am constantly surprised and saddened at how fast she is progressing now. Its only a matter of time now. A matter of time till what ? you are probably asking? That is a question I cannot answer right now, but I'll certainly let you know as I go.
Same goes for the qustions "how long do you think she has?" All I can tell you is that we just opened the door to hospice care.....so now we are walking down that hallway.
peace out.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The river of Shit
Oh my good f++#@ing gawd. Mum is home. I picked her up on Friday, as I believe I already blogged.
Friday was ok. She was (as expected) very disoriented. Not sure who's house this was, not sure what city she was in, not sure of anything. I started right back into my routine...which didn't work. She was in a different routine, the one from the guest house.
Dinner Friday was a disaster. Saturday, she stayed in bed till almost noon, which was alright. I fed her breakfast and lunch in her room, changed her twice (with much fighting) and figured I'd just let her come out at her own pace. But when she finally did come out, she was completely turned around in terms of time. She kept insisting that it was morning, that she wanted a coffee and some toast, despite the fact that it was almost three by this time. She got her toast and coffee.
When I started to serve dinner, she was appalled that we would be eating such a large meal at such an early time. I kept pointing out that it was dark outside, she kept telling me that was because the sun hadn't come up yet. Dinner was a write off. Kids were forced to eat in their rooms, same with my hubby, I didn't eat at all (which isn't a big deal, I can afford it) I ended up feeding mum some scrambled egg and bacon. Breakfast food.
So then it's off to bed, and as you can well imagine, it was the fight of the century. I finally settled down and fell into a good sleep around 4 am.
Wow... and that brings us to today.. Sunday. I napped today, cause I was still tired from being up half the nite. I forgot that I had made plans with a friend, got up around 3, headed over to her house, only to be called back immediately by my husband.
Are you sitting down for this?
Mum had forced and entire adult medium sized depend undergarment down the toilet....with her hairbrush.
The toilet then proceeded to flood and overflow, because she kept flushing it over and over again. It flooded her entire bathroom, the walk in closet and finally started to pour into the basement, where my husband was busily building the room for the live-in nanny.... yeah.. you know... the nanny that he now wants here TOMORROW.
Omg.. what a mess. To boot, she had gone to the bathroom, which made for a horrible mess to clean. And my husband cleaned it. Not me. By the time I got home, he had managed to clean up most of the messy, gross stuff.
Anyone who doesn't understand why I don't have time to do anything, should sit down and read just a page, or one entry of this. I left Mum, happily on the couch, folding laundry, with TWO children sitting with her and my husband in the next room. That used to be a useful technique for when I had to slip out for no longer than an hour. I now realize that I cannot slip out for any longer than it takes to smoke a quarter of a ciggie.....not even that sometimes. It's also very apparent that I need to be present for each and every bathroom break that she takes now. Now that we are well into the full-blown incontinent issues.
Its one thing changing a shitty diaper on a baby. It's another thing to change a shitty diaper on an adult. I remember when my kids were eating solid foods, but still in diapers and I thought... "ok, this is it. They are pooping out human, adult shit. Time for them to do it in the toilet. ENOUGH with the diapers!!!"
This is worse... much, much worse than that.
So after we cleaned the "river of shit" as we affectionately called it, we all took showers, scrubbing ourselves raw, and tried to proceed with the nite and dinner routine. After Mum's shower, I put her in nice, soft, cozy clean pj's, which I thought she would appreciate. That was at 6pm. I spent the next three hours listening to her repeat over and over again, how she needed to change her pj's. At first I thought it was just a quirk, and I humoured her....better to agree with them, whatever it is, as that is what is going on in their mind, you cannot change or reason with them. After three additional changes, I was done. Fed up and done. I locked her bedroom door and I asked her to join us in the kitchen for a glass of wine and some sweets. That decoy worked for a minute. Not even the wine worked anymore. She wasn't even drinking it. This continued until I put her to bed @ 9pm. It is now 11:31 pm and I just finished yet another tuck in. She has wandered about 6 times now since 9pm....and will continue well into the nite.
I am day three into my routine, after a rest, and already I am finding it difficult. Geesh... I've got another 67 days before my next break, and after that I may go 6 months without one. We'll see. Christmas is going to be a complete f-ing nightmare. Our tree went up yesterday, but that's a blog for tomorrow.
I get asked by people, all the time, how I cope with seeing my Mum like this, debilitated, demented, a shell of her former self. I tell them the truth. I have no trouble. I know my Mum died almost four yrs ago, shortly after I lost my Dad. I know this, because she was living with me when it happened. I looked at her one morning and thought.... wholly crap.... you are not my Mum. And she wasn't. So that's how I deal with it. She looks like my Mum.... and that's it now. Even that is fading, as she shrinks, and whizzens and I watch the lites dim a little more each day.
I love my Mum and I really wish she was here with me to help me do this. She'd know exactly what to say to help me.
peace out.
Friday was ok. She was (as expected) very disoriented. Not sure who's house this was, not sure what city she was in, not sure of anything. I started right back into my routine...which didn't work. She was in a different routine, the one from the guest house.
Dinner Friday was a disaster. Saturday, she stayed in bed till almost noon, which was alright. I fed her breakfast and lunch in her room, changed her twice (with much fighting) and figured I'd just let her come out at her own pace. But when she finally did come out, she was completely turned around in terms of time. She kept insisting that it was morning, that she wanted a coffee and some toast, despite the fact that it was almost three by this time. She got her toast and coffee.
When I started to serve dinner, she was appalled that we would be eating such a large meal at such an early time. I kept pointing out that it was dark outside, she kept telling me that was because the sun hadn't come up yet. Dinner was a write off. Kids were forced to eat in their rooms, same with my hubby, I didn't eat at all (which isn't a big deal, I can afford it) I ended up feeding mum some scrambled egg and bacon. Breakfast food.
So then it's off to bed, and as you can well imagine, it was the fight of the century. I finally settled down and fell into a good sleep around 4 am.
Wow... and that brings us to today.. Sunday. I napped today, cause I was still tired from being up half the nite. I forgot that I had made plans with a friend, got up around 3, headed over to her house, only to be called back immediately by my husband.
Are you sitting down for this?
Mum had forced and entire adult medium sized depend undergarment down the toilet....with her hairbrush.
The toilet then proceeded to flood and overflow, because she kept flushing it over and over again. It flooded her entire bathroom, the walk in closet and finally started to pour into the basement, where my husband was busily building the room for the live-in nanny.... yeah.. you know... the nanny that he now wants here TOMORROW.
Omg.. what a mess. To boot, she had gone to the bathroom, which made for a horrible mess to clean. And my husband cleaned it. Not me. By the time I got home, he had managed to clean up most of the messy, gross stuff.
Anyone who doesn't understand why I don't have time to do anything, should sit down and read just a page, or one entry of this. I left Mum, happily on the couch, folding laundry, with TWO children sitting with her and my husband in the next room. That used to be a useful technique for when I had to slip out for no longer than an hour. I now realize that I cannot slip out for any longer than it takes to smoke a quarter of a ciggie.....not even that sometimes. It's also very apparent that I need to be present for each and every bathroom break that she takes now. Now that we are well into the full-blown incontinent issues.
Its one thing changing a shitty diaper on a baby. It's another thing to change a shitty diaper on an adult. I remember when my kids were eating solid foods, but still in diapers and I thought... "ok, this is it. They are pooping out human, adult shit. Time for them to do it in the toilet. ENOUGH with the diapers!!!"
This is worse... much, much worse than that.
So after we cleaned the "river of shit" as we affectionately called it, we all took showers, scrubbing ourselves raw, and tried to proceed with the nite and dinner routine. After Mum's shower, I put her in nice, soft, cozy clean pj's, which I thought she would appreciate. That was at 6pm. I spent the next three hours listening to her repeat over and over again, how she needed to change her pj's. At first I thought it was just a quirk, and I humoured her....better to agree with them, whatever it is, as that is what is going on in their mind, you cannot change or reason with them. After three additional changes, I was done. Fed up and done. I locked her bedroom door and I asked her to join us in the kitchen for a glass of wine and some sweets. That decoy worked for a minute. Not even the wine worked anymore. She wasn't even drinking it. This continued until I put her to bed @ 9pm. It is now 11:31 pm and I just finished yet another tuck in. She has wandered about 6 times now since 9pm....and will continue well into the nite.
I am day three into my routine, after a rest, and already I am finding it difficult. Geesh... I've got another 67 days before my next break, and after that I may go 6 months without one. We'll see. Christmas is going to be a complete f-ing nightmare. Our tree went up yesterday, but that's a blog for tomorrow.
I get asked by people, all the time, how I cope with seeing my Mum like this, debilitated, demented, a shell of her former self. I tell them the truth. I have no trouble. I know my Mum died almost four yrs ago, shortly after I lost my Dad. I know this, because she was living with me when it happened. I looked at her one morning and thought.... wholly crap.... you are not my Mum. And she wasn't. So that's how I deal with it. She looks like my Mum.... and that's it now. Even that is fading, as she shrinks, and whizzens and I watch the lites dim a little more each day.
I love my Mum and I really wish she was here with me to help me do this. She'd know exactly what to say to help me.
peace out.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
good morning.
Well Marjorie returned home, and I am trying to resume our normal routine prior to there respite stay. The questions that are being repeated are these:
Where have I been? am I not supposed to be going home to my own house? I feel like I am forgetting something important that we need to do today". The list goes on, but it is nice to have her home. She didn't do much yesterday afternoon.... maybe tired from the trip and all the transition, so we spent a sort of low-key day just chatting and watching a bit of TV. Later, when the kids started to trickly in, I poured her the first glass of wine she has had in over two weeks. She welcomed it like any mother would welcome her child after a long absence....it was cute to see and listen to. Marjorie was quite happy to have her restful spot on the couch, along with catered snacks that she had missed and her wine. One thing that has changed is her outlook on her living arrangements. She seems to think that she is now living in a different facility, and seems to have little or no recollection of the guest house, only its rules. I was cooking last nite, and she mentioned that she would love to help, but that she was not allowed in the kitchen due to all the hot applainces etc.
So I sat Marjorie down and asked her to slice the cucumbers and peel carrots. That lasted all of three minutes and after she seemed to have had her fill of eating them, Marjorie announced that she might better be getting settled into her new room. Its a new and completely fabricated existence, this one she has created, but whatever comforts her and makes her feel safe, I am willing to comply with.
This morning was a different bag of tricks. First of all, Marjorie had no idea where she was this morning, nor who I was (at first). It took her at least 15 mins to a-climatize to her surroundings. Once comfortable, she said sher realized and rememberd being changed to this facility and was quite concerned that her daugther had not paid for her stay here yet. She was explaining all this to me as I brought her toast and coffee to her in bed. I assured her that she was paid in full, left her with the news on and a nice hot cup of coffee, toast and medications had been dispensed. It was a nice, calming morning return, and I left feeling confident that I had helped the transition run smoothly. Or so I thought.
About an hour ago, I started to hear noises of life. I was working in my office, pouring over emails, when I heard her leave her bedroom. I called to her if she needed or wanted anything and she said she was fine. I had systematically left out a tea, some cookies and she should have been good to go. I like to keep my Mum independant and involved, to maintain her believe that she is vital, and needed.
I became concerned when I heard the water running, for a long time, and walked through to the kitchen to find her washing.... yes washing..... my net book and my cordless phones. She was running them under the tap, soaping them with the scrub brush and cleaning them in a fashion that was obviously making sense in her brain. Not so much for my electronics.
This is where the disease is so hard to understand, for me anyway. Initial response for me was to freak, in a fashion that I freak out when my kids do something so awful that I cannot control my temper. Instead, I calmly stopped her from washing, and let her away to do another task.
Situations like this are hard. I try my best not to take them personally, but this morning, she witnessed me using both items..... at the same time. after receiving good advice from friends, I have placed them both in containers of rice, in hopes that they will have some chance of recovering. For now, I just keep taking deep breaths and knowing that today, the first day home, that it's only goingto get worse.... :)
Well Marjorie returned home, and I am trying to resume our normal routine prior to there respite stay. The questions that are being repeated are these:
Where have I been? am I not supposed to be going home to my own house? I feel like I am forgetting something important that we need to do today". The list goes on, but it is nice to have her home. She didn't do much yesterday afternoon.... maybe tired from the trip and all the transition, so we spent a sort of low-key day just chatting and watching a bit of TV. Later, when the kids started to trickly in, I poured her the first glass of wine she has had in over two weeks. She welcomed it like any mother would welcome her child after a long absence....it was cute to see and listen to. Marjorie was quite happy to have her restful spot on the couch, along with catered snacks that she had missed and her wine. One thing that has changed is her outlook on her living arrangements. She seems to think that she is now living in a different facility, and seems to have little or no recollection of the guest house, only its rules. I was cooking last nite, and she mentioned that she would love to help, but that she was not allowed in the kitchen due to all the hot applainces etc.
So I sat Marjorie down and asked her to slice the cucumbers and peel carrots. That lasted all of three minutes and after she seemed to have had her fill of eating them, Marjorie announced that she might better be getting settled into her new room. Its a new and completely fabricated existence, this one she has created, but whatever comforts her and makes her feel safe, I am willing to comply with.
This morning was a different bag of tricks. First of all, Marjorie had no idea where she was this morning, nor who I was (at first). It took her at least 15 mins to a-climatize to her surroundings. Once comfortable, she said sher realized and rememberd being changed to this facility and was quite concerned that her daugther had not paid for her stay here yet. She was explaining all this to me as I brought her toast and coffee to her in bed. I assured her that she was paid in full, left her with the news on and a nice hot cup of coffee, toast and medications had been dispensed. It was a nice, calming morning return, and I left feeling confident that I had helped the transition run smoothly. Or so I thought.
About an hour ago, I started to hear noises of life. I was working in my office, pouring over emails, when I heard her leave her bedroom. I called to her if she needed or wanted anything and she said she was fine. I had systematically left out a tea, some cookies and she should have been good to go. I like to keep my Mum independant and involved, to maintain her believe that she is vital, and needed.
I became concerned when I heard the water running, for a long time, and walked through to the kitchen to find her washing.... yes washing..... my net book and my cordless phones. She was running them under the tap, soaping them with the scrub brush and cleaning them in a fashion that was obviously making sense in her brain. Not so much for my electronics.
This is where the disease is so hard to understand, for me anyway. Initial response for me was to freak, in a fashion that I freak out when my kids do something so awful that I cannot control my temper. Instead, I calmly stopped her from washing, and let her away to do another task.
Situations like this are hard. I try my best not to take them personally, but this morning, she witnessed me using both items..... at the same time. after receiving good advice from friends, I have placed them both in containers of rice, in hopes that they will have some chance of recovering. For now, I just keep taking deep breaths and knowing that today, the first day home, that it's only goingto get worse.... :)
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Wow. That was a nite and a half. Mum suffered a fall last nite. Nothing broken, so that's good news, but she suffered a mild head trauma and will be observed over the next 24 hours.
As mentioned by my wise sister, this may be a pattern. Mum's falling. She seems to do it at times that she feels it necessary for attention.
Another lovely side effect of dementia.
So here's a question that I'll put out into the universe......
When DO you know that it's the right time for long-term, extended care for your loved one? Maybe I'm wrong in thinking that I'll "just know". That I'll be shown a sign, or that the opportunity will just present itself. Maybe I'm sticking my head in the sand (just a little bit) by thinking that I will not have to do any "heavy lifting" when it comes to this decision. How do you know?
I'll think about it and provide the answers that I come up with, tomorrow. In the Meantime, if there IS anyone out there reading, maybe you can give me some of your answers.
Peace out.
As mentioned by my wise sister, this may be a pattern. Mum's falling. She seems to do it at times that she feels it necessary for attention.
Another lovely side effect of dementia.
So here's a question that I'll put out into the universe......
When DO you know that it's the right time for long-term, extended care for your loved one? Maybe I'm wrong in thinking that I'll "just know". That I'll be shown a sign, or that the opportunity will just present itself. Maybe I'm sticking my head in the sand (just a little bit) by thinking that I will not have to do any "heavy lifting" when it comes to this decision. How do you know?
I'll think about it and provide the answers that I come up with, tomorrow. In the Meantime, if there IS anyone out there reading, maybe you can give me some of your answers.
Peace out.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
You don't think it can happen....... but it does.
Well, my last day of "holidays". Wow, it just whips by. I spoke with Mum last nite on the phone. She was highly agitated and confused. I listened to her as she spun this story about my Dad, and how he had promised to meet her there, at the guest house, for lunch. Here she was, still waiting, and it was well after dark. She then said, "I've spent my life waiting for your father, he'll never change".
What is the right thing to do in this situation? I would appreciate some feedback. (oh if only someone was actually READING this.... :). I have two approaches. The first approach is not correcting her. When she speaks of my Dad in the present tense, as if he is still alive, on most occasions, I cannot bring myself to inform her of his death. It's like she's learning of it for the first time, all over again. However, when I do this, I run the risk that she will realize, halfway through, that she is speaking in the past. Mum will stop talking abruptly, get this dazed look in her eye, followed by a pained look, followed by a nervous attempt to cover up the fact that she has just been talking about my dead father, her dead husband, as if he were still alive and with us.
My second approach is to correct her right off the bat. To see the horrified look on her face when I initially tell her he passed away almost four yrs ago, and comfort her while I explain her memory issues to her, at the same time, reminding her all over again that the love of her life is dead.
Last nite, I chose to just chat her through it. I wasn't there to comfort her in person, and I knew the phone call would be cut short, under 10 minutes, so I chose to "go with the flow" and listen as she told me of Dad's great tardiness. I was actually quite surprised at her complet disconnect with reality last nite. As I sit here typing this on my laptop, I am thinking about her diagnosis, and way back when we learned of her AD. You don't think it's goingto progress. You don't think that your own mother will ever forget you, or important things in our lives, or who she is...... but they do. It doesn't matter how much you loved them, or hated them, how good they were to you, or how horrible.... it all gets forgotten.
I try to empathize and I try to imagine what it would be like to forget my husband, my sister/brother, my children, my life, and I cannot. I find it scary and unthinkable.
My mother is living that scary and unthinkable nitemare right in front of me. Which is why I will care for her, and provide her with a comfortable, decent, caring, dignified and safe place where she can lose her mind completely.
My Mum was there for me through many good, bad and scary times and I will be there for her.
Tomorrow she returns home, and its back to the crazy life. See you then!
What is the right thing to do in this situation? I would appreciate some feedback. (oh if only someone was actually READING this.... :). I have two approaches. The first approach is not correcting her. When she speaks of my Dad in the present tense, as if he is still alive, on most occasions, I cannot bring myself to inform her of his death. It's like she's learning of it for the first time, all over again. However, when I do this, I run the risk that she will realize, halfway through, that she is speaking in the past. Mum will stop talking abruptly, get this dazed look in her eye, followed by a pained look, followed by a nervous attempt to cover up the fact that she has just been talking about my dead father, her dead husband, as if he were still alive and with us.
My second approach is to correct her right off the bat. To see the horrified look on her face when I initially tell her he passed away almost four yrs ago, and comfort her while I explain her memory issues to her, at the same time, reminding her all over again that the love of her life is dead.
Last nite, I chose to just chat her through it. I wasn't there to comfort her in person, and I knew the phone call would be cut short, under 10 minutes, so I chose to "go with the flow" and listen as she told me of Dad's great tardiness. I was actually quite surprised at her complet disconnect with reality last nite. As I sit here typing this on my laptop, I am thinking about her diagnosis, and way back when we learned of her AD. You don't think it's goingto progress. You don't think that your own mother will ever forget you, or important things in our lives, or who she is...... but they do. It doesn't matter how much you loved them, or hated them, how good they were to you, or how horrible.... it all gets forgotten.
I try to empathize and I try to imagine what it would be like to forget my husband, my sister/brother, my children, my life, and I cannot. I find it scary and unthinkable.
My mother is living that scary and unthinkable nitemare right in front of me. Which is why I will care for her, and provide her with a comfortable, decent, caring, dignified and safe place where she can lose her mind completely.
My Mum was there for me through many good, bad and scary times and I will be there for her.
Tomorrow she returns home, and its back to the crazy life. See you then!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Making my way to Greenland.
good morning.
busy weekend for me. Mum is still in respite. I call her everyday, as now I feel like my batteries are recharged and I am missing her terribly. I'm ready to pick her up now, but will wait until the scheduled day, on Wednesday. Our chats (daily) consist of her telling me different stories. On Friday, she told me that she spent the day looking at houses, condos and apartments. She had decided that she didn't want to stay in the guest house permanently, and that they tell her she is only a guest there. I thought this was quite a feat, as her story was definately elaborate, right down to details about a house she had looked at, that she instantly liked. Her suite being on the main floor, there was lots of room for my family too. The kitchen was beautiful, and would we like to live with her? I enjoyed this story, proves to me that Mum's brain still works in many capacities. I let her chat on and on. For a split second, I imagined that we were just "chatting" like we always used to. It was nice.
Its funny to hear these stories... like a snapshot into what's firing in her brain at the moment.
Speaking of what's firing in a brain..... I am beginning to let my guard down a little bit in terms of what I write here. Almost like I am getting comfortable with my surroundings. I think that I have yet to let my dark humour out on the pages.....worried that I will scare you away with my thoughts and actions. But maybe I've already scared you with all the boredom of my entries, so I'll let my guard down a little this morning.
My keyes. A constant struggle in my house, daily, with my truk keys. We recently (yesterday) finished our mudroom. I always remember our mudroom from NW ont. Was awesome. To me, a kid at the time, it seemed huge. That's how I remember it. But Mum was always way ahead of her time in terms of her living quarters and their design. Anyway... keys. I designed our current mudroom to be a place of optimum storage space and organization. A place for everything. Now i feel like I know where my stuff is. I feel like it's everyone else that dis-organizes me. Yesterday, for example, I used the truk only once. Hubby used it quite a few times. My keys? No where to be found this morning. Not hanging where they should be, not in my purse, pockets, bedside table.... no where. I'm betting my left breast that they are in the work truk. But I'll never know, cause he'll get home and put them somewhere that he can claim I left them. I know this, because I've set traps in the past. Hubby will do anything to deflect blame. Yes, I'm frustrated this morning, angry and crabby now, as I have no keys. But life is short, so I pick my battles.
Its funny that one of the things I wanted to do this week off, was watch the movie "Eat, Pray, Love". I did watch it and it was terrible. So terrible, in fact, that I paid $8 for it, and never finished the movie. I turned it off after 20 minutes or so. I really felt that the movie's best line was in the first 5 minutes, when she decides she's leaving her marriage. Julia Roberts (The character) says this:
"the only thing harder than staying in this marriage... is leaving. I wish I could slip quietly out the back door, start running, and not stop till I hit Greenland"
If it wasn't for the kids, if I wasn't picking Mum up on Wednesday, I would slip out the back door, start running and not stop till I got to Greenland.
busy weekend for me. Mum is still in respite. I call her everyday, as now I feel like my batteries are recharged and I am missing her terribly. I'm ready to pick her up now, but will wait until the scheduled day, on Wednesday. Our chats (daily) consist of her telling me different stories. On Friday, she told me that she spent the day looking at houses, condos and apartments. She had decided that she didn't want to stay in the guest house permanently, and that they tell her she is only a guest there. I thought this was quite a feat, as her story was definately elaborate, right down to details about a house she had looked at, that she instantly liked. Her suite being on the main floor, there was lots of room for my family too. The kitchen was beautiful, and would we like to live with her? I enjoyed this story, proves to me that Mum's brain still works in many capacities. I let her chat on and on. For a split second, I imagined that we were just "chatting" like we always used to. It was nice.
Its funny to hear these stories... like a snapshot into what's firing in her brain at the moment.
Speaking of what's firing in a brain..... I am beginning to let my guard down a little bit in terms of what I write here. Almost like I am getting comfortable with my surroundings. I think that I have yet to let my dark humour out on the pages.....worried that I will scare you away with my thoughts and actions. But maybe I've already scared you with all the boredom of my entries, so I'll let my guard down a little this morning.
My keyes. A constant struggle in my house, daily, with my truk keys. We recently (yesterday) finished our mudroom. I always remember our mudroom from NW ont. Was awesome. To me, a kid at the time, it seemed huge. That's how I remember it. But Mum was always way ahead of her time in terms of her living quarters and their design. Anyway... keys. I designed our current mudroom to be a place of optimum storage space and organization. A place for everything. Now i feel like I know where my stuff is. I feel like it's everyone else that dis-organizes me. Yesterday, for example, I used the truk only once. Hubby used it quite a few times. My keys? No where to be found this morning. Not hanging where they should be, not in my purse, pockets, bedside table.... no where. I'm betting my left breast that they are in the work truk. But I'll never know, cause he'll get home and put them somewhere that he can claim I left them. I know this, because I've set traps in the past. Hubby will do anything to deflect blame. Yes, I'm frustrated this morning, angry and crabby now, as I have no keys. But life is short, so I pick my battles.
Its funny that one of the things I wanted to do this week off, was watch the movie "Eat, Pray, Love". I did watch it and it was terrible. So terrible, in fact, that I paid $8 for it, and never finished the movie. I turned it off after 20 minutes or so. I really felt that the movie's best line was in the first 5 minutes, when she decides she's leaving her marriage. Julia Roberts (The character) says this:
"the only thing harder than staying in this marriage... is leaving. I wish I could slip quietly out the back door, start running, and not stop till I hit Greenland"
If it wasn't for the kids, if I wasn't picking Mum up on Wednesday, I would slip out the back door, start running and not stop till I got to Greenland.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
An obstacle course.
Day #5 of my holiday. I'll admit, I am missing my Mum. Started yesterday...walking past her room, completely empty. Now, I know that I sound hypocritical when I say that I miss her, but I really do. This is why a respite holiday is so important for a caregiver. It gives us a well-deserved and needed break, and refreshes our outlook. When I pick Mum up, I will be happy to see her. That will last ..... I can't predict how long it will be until the tasks morph into one entire dreaded day, but it will happen. It always does, and then I will take a break again.
We leave for Florida on Jan 30th/11. That is my next scheduled break. But until then, I will enjoy this one. Yes, I am back in my cave. Unfortunately, they are finishing the brick on the house next door and there is a generator running. It's an annoying noise. There are also saw-cutters running, to cut the brick, combined it makes for a very noisy area, not one condusive with resting. I will put my headphones on, block out the noise and relax. By 10:30, I should have managed to filter all the sound into background or white noise. :)
I have a question: I am wondering if Mum's dementia makes people uncomfortable? As in "uncomfortable speaking with her"? The reason I ask, is that certain family members, and certain friends have completely cut her off. No calls, no contact, no communication. I find this hard to understand, and hard to swallow. It might be different for me, as I am in the midst of it everyday, and cannot fathom cutting Mum off....especially at a time like this, when she is so fragile. But yes, there are people who were very close with Mum, who have just dropped off the face of the earth, never to phone, write or initiate any kind of contact with her again. It is much easier for me to believe that the dementia makes them uncomfortable. After all, she can be hard to understand, hard to deal with in terms of the repetitiveness, and I am led to believe that causes discomfort for them. Also, in terms of her friends, maybe they don't like to see another example of old age staring them in the face? To watch a once vital, vibrant friend that they used to share laughs, wine and secrets with, suddenly dissapear into a void of dementia blankness?
These explanations make me feel less angry at them, for their lack of concern and effort towards Mum. At least they do for a minute. Then I just realise that even if fear, ignorance and turning a blind eye are factors, any decent human being would overcome these obstacles to initiate contact with Mum. Especially knowing the role that she once played in each of their lives. Hello? Marjorie is still here. You should pick up the phone every once and a while. Why not try jumping the obstacle instead of hiding behind it?
peace out.
We leave for Florida on Jan 30th/11. That is my next scheduled break. But until then, I will enjoy this one. Yes, I am back in my cave. Unfortunately, they are finishing the brick on the house next door and there is a generator running. It's an annoying noise. There are also saw-cutters running, to cut the brick, combined it makes for a very noisy area, not one condusive with resting. I will put my headphones on, block out the noise and relax. By 10:30, I should have managed to filter all the sound into background or white noise. :)
I have a question: I am wondering if Mum's dementia makes people uncomfortable? As in "uncomfortable speaking with her"? The reason I ask, is that certain family members, and certain friends have completely cut her off. No calls, no contact, no communication. I find this hard to understand, and hard to swallow. It might be different for me, as I am in the midst of it everyday, and cannot fathom cutting Mum off....especially at a time like this, when she is so fragile. But yes, there are people who were very close with Mum, who have just dropped off the face of the earth, never to phone, write or initiate any kind of contact with her again. It is much easier for me to believe that the dementia makes them uncomfortable. After all, she can be hard to understand, hard to deal with in terms of the repetitiveness, and I am led to believe that causes discomfort for them. Also, in terms of her friends, maybe they don't like to see another example of old age staring them in the face? To watch a once vital, vibrant friend that they used to share laughs, wine and secrets with, suddenly dissapear into a void of dementia blankness?
These explanations make me feel less angry at them, for their lack of concern and effort towards Mum. At least they do for a minute. Then I just realise that even if fear, ignorance and turning a blind eye are factors, any decent human being would overcome these obstacles to initiate contact with Mum. Especially knowing the role that she once played in each of their lives. Hello? Marjorie is still here. You should pick up the phone every once and a while. Why not try jumping the obstacle instead of hiding behind it?
peace out.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
What a difference 4.5 days make!!!!
Here I am again. I'm back the following day. Wow. Impressive.
I am on Day # 5 of my respite vacation. I called Mum last nite, to check on her and say hi. She was exhausted last nite, and launched into quite a long story about how she spent the entire day running around looking at new houses. Not only did she see quite a few of them, she also saw a couple of apartments that she really liked. She went on to say how she has never liked apartments, but is beginning to like the whole idea of living in a secure building. I listened to her stories, all the while wondering where the hell all this was coming from.... the whole househunting thing. My brother made a keen observation, when I was telling him about this, saying that "obviously something is firing up there in her brain". And that made me feel better. Mum's idea may be way out in left field, but the root of them proves she still has the ability to think that she is normal, functioning well. And that pleases me.
I am beginning to feel better. Back to my old self. 4.5 days of rest, and I'm getting back to normal. Respite is so important when you are caring for a dementia patient full time. Like I said, in my earlier posts, I am with Mum 24/7, and while we have a great little routine down pat, there comes a point where all those little "tasks" that you dread, begin to thread together, to produce one entire day of dread, day in, day out. I was past that point last week, so Respite is essential. A service that no caregiver should be without.
I also have a nite off tonight. I placed leftover ham, some potatoes, onions and a couple of cans of Campbell's asparagus soup in the crock pot this morning, cleaned the house from top to bottom, and I'm now in my cave for the afternoon. No where to be tonight. No arena, no nothing. dinner is prepared and I'm as free as a bird. I'm not quite sure WHAT to do with myself.
which I guess, is what allowed me to blog two days in a row!! I wonder if you can hear the difference in my words. The difference 4.5 days of rest makes. The difference that 4.5 days of quiet, peace, darkness, alone-time, crazy solitude makes.. Well, if you can't see it.... you are most definately blind!!!!!
I am on Day # 5 of my respite vacation. I called Mum last nite, to check on her and say hi. She was exhausted last nite, and launched into quite a long story about how she spent the entire day running around looking at new houses. Not only did she see quite a few of them, she also saw a couple of apartments that she really liked. She went on to say how she has never liked apartments, but is beginning to like the whole idea of living in a secure building. I listened to her stories, all the while wondering where the hell all this was coming from.... the whole househunting thing. My brother made a keen observation, when I was telling him about this, saying that "obviously something is firing up there in her brain". And that made me feel better. Mum's idea may be way out in left field, but the root of them proves she still has the ability to think that she is normal, functioning well. And that pleases me.
I am beginning to feel better. Back to my old self. 4.5 days of rest, and I'm getting back to normal. Respite is so important when you are caring for a dementia patient full time. Like I said, in my earlier posts, I am with Mum 24/7, and while we have a great little routine down pat, there comes a point where all those little "tasks" that you dread, begin to thread together, to produce one entire day of dread, day in, day out. I was past that point last week, so Respite is essential. A service that no caregiver should be without.
I also have a nite off tonight. I placed leftover ham, some potatoes, onions and a couple of cans of Campbell's asparagus soup in the crock pot this morning, cleaned the house from top to bottom, and I'm now in my cave for the afternoon. No where to be tonight. No arena, no nothing. dinner is prepared and I'm as free as a bird. I'm not quite sure WHAT to do with myself.
which I guess, is what allowed me to blog two days in a row!! I wonder if you can hear the difference in my words. The difference 4.5 days of rest makes. The difference that 4.5 days of quiet, peace, darkness, alone-time, crazy solitude makes.. Well, if you can't see it.... you are most definately blind!!!!!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Cave.
Good Day folks:
I am now trying to enter only once per week. I don't want this blogging to become something I dread, so I am trying not to place too much emphasis and pressure on daily entries. I have enough of that, I don't need to be adding to it with this.\
Mum is in respite this week. I am currently holed away in my "cave". That is the name I affectionately gave my bedroom. It's my space. Where I retreat for peace and quiet. I have learned, as a caregiver, you need a space like this. For me it's my bedroom. I have black out blinds, my computer, a tv and my comfy bed. It's a place where I go to seek quiet. No voices, no social interraction, nobody wanting/needing or getting anything from me. As the primary caregiver of a dementia patient, I find that solitude is one of my greatest wants. Mum is always with me. She is always needing me for something. Food, security, bathroom issues, reassurance, asking repeated questions, guidance etc. Mum is full-on, 24hr per day, 7 days per week. I pull the blinds and make it extremely dark. I get comfy in my bed and I either surf, watch TV or read. The door is shut and locked, and I am safely away in my quiet zone. Sometimes an hour up here does the trick, but right now, while Mum is away at respite, I am spending two whole days up here to regroup, recoupe, recharge and recover. Kids are gone from 9am till 2pm. That is the time I can spend here, for two whole days. Then all my other responsibilities kick in and I have to get my ass in gear and get going.
As a caregiver, I highly recommend this. It's not unheathly or anti-social .... I don't look at it like that at all. It's a way of recharging your batteries so that you can continue to care for your loved one, in a capacity that is successful and healthy. And in my case, it is an essential part of me being both a decent mother/wife AND a caregiver. Selfish? Maybe. But if you don't do it, recharge, you will ultimately burn out. That is not good for anyone in this equation.
I miss my Mum. I cannot wait to get her home again, but I am also enjoying my time alone...... in my cave.
I am now trying to enter only once per week. I don't want this blogging to become something I dread, so I am trying not to place too much emphasis and pressure on daily entries. I have enough of that, I don't need to be adding to it with this.\
Mum is in respite this week. I am currently holed away in my "cave". That is the name I affectionately gave my bedroom. It's my space. Where I retreat for peace and quiet. I have learned, as a caregiver, you need a space like this. For me it's my bedroom. I have black out blinds, my computer, a tv and my comfy bed. It's a place where I go to seek quiet. No voices, no social interraction, nobody wanting/needing or getting anything from me. As the primary caregiver of a dementia patient, I find that solitude is one of my greatest wants. Mum is always with me. She is always needing me for something. Food, security, bathroom issues, reassurance, asking repeated questions, guidance etc. Mum is full-on, 24hr per day, 7 days per week. I pull the blinds and make it extremely dark. I get comfy in my bed and I either surf, watch TV or read. The door is shut and locked, and I am safely away in my quiet zone. Sometimes an hour up here does the trick, but right now, while Mum is away at respite, I am spending two whole days up here to regroup, recoupe, recharge and recover. Kids are gone from 9am till 2pm. That is the time I can spend here, for two whole days. Then all my other responsibilities kick in and I have to get my ass in gear and get going.
As a caregiver, I highly recommend this. It's not unheathly or anti-social .... I don't look at it like that at all. It's a way of recharging your batteries so that you can continue to care for your loved one, in a capacity that is successful and healthy. And in my case, it is an essential part of me being both a decent mother/wife AND a caregiver. Selfish? Maybe. But if you don't do it, recharge, you will ultimately burn out. That is not good for anyone in this equation.
I miss my Mum. I cannot wait to get her home again, but I am also enjoying my time alone...... in my cave.
Monday, November 15, 2010
There comes a time....
Yes, less than diligent. I know. These days, I am finding it really difficult to sit down and actually write about my day. Mum\s Day. There are probably many reasons for this: I am busy with volunteer stuff, I am busy with the kids' stuff, busy running my house (or trying) and busy with Mum.
Mum keeps me busy. Mentally. All day.
That may be a statement hard for most to understand. Easy for a caregiver to understand.
I notice that mum has declined quite a bit over the last three months. Call it a backslide? She rarely has any idea of time and date, she sleeps in the day, she is up in the nite. She has absolutely no idea where she is when she wakes up, finally, during the day. I find this really horrifying. Can you, just for a minute, imagine waking up and having absolutely no idea where you are, and what you are doing there?
Amazingly enough, she is usually thankful to see me. She almost always recognizes me, but that is beginning to change too. How is she goingto react every day, waking up, and not knowing who I am? When this happens, I try to quickly bring up my father's name. This jolts her memory, as I believe she will remember PJ until the day she dies. It takes a second, but you can see it all swirling around in her head, as she tries to grasp onto one or any memory she can.
But that has it's drawbacks too. Gets me out of one sticky spot... but throws me directly into another. Bringing up PJ's name then launches all sorts of questions on his whereabouts. Mum has no memory that he's dead...most of the time.
The constant repetition is killing me. The Obsessive Compulsiveness is killing me. Combine these and I'm pushed right to the edge. I can feel that I am in desperate need of a break right now.
Last nite, it took me over three hours of constant attention and numerous attempts at finally getting mum successfully and safely into her bed. It's ridiculous, it's surreal, it's outlandish, it's crazy, it's demented and it's getting the better of me. In dementia-land, when you ask the sufferer to do something, like go to bed, you have to hold their hand every step of the way. You cannot leave for a minute, or all momentum is lost. Even if you follow it through, right to the end, (like actually getting her into bed\), it is usually followed by numerous wanders, questions, arguments, etc.... repeated over and over and over again, until finally something clicks and she is happy to stay snug in her bed. Simple tasks/routines like bedtime, morph into these horrific, horrendous tasks that you dread each and every day. Another example is the shower routine, or the bathroom routine. Yeah... you just grow to dread them.
What is sad, is that if you thread all these dreaded experiences together.... for example: dressing, washing, bathroom, meals, teeth brushing, bedtime etc............. There comes a time when you thread them together, stand back and realize that you are basically dreading your whole day... each and every day. Yes. There comes a time when you realize that you are dreading your life.
Mum is headed into respite for 21 days, at the end of this week. By the time she returns, I will be refreshed, rested, a little relaxed and ready to face each day with a new and different routine.
This (I find) is a very effective and efficient way to deal with the overload of "there comes a time". Its probably not. It's probably really unhealthy to bring myself to the burnout point, only to barely pull myself back for another really short time. But it's my way, it's working and I will have lotsa time to rest when I'm dead. :)
peace out.
Mum keeps me busy. Mentally. All day.
That may be a statement hard for most to understand. Easy for a caregiver to understand.
I notice that mum has declined quite a bit over the last three months. Call it a backslide? She rarely has any idea of time and date, she sleeps in the day, she is up in the nite. She has absolutely no idea where she is when she wakes up, finally, during the day. I find this really horrifying. Can you, just for a minute, imagine waking up and having absolutely no idea where you are, and what you are doing there?
Amazingly enough, she is usually thankful to see me. She almost always recognizes me, but that is beginning to change too. How is she goingto react every day, waking up, and not knowing who I am? When this happens, I try to quickly bring up my father's name. This jolts her memory, as I believe she will remember PJ until the day she dies. It takes a second, but you can see it all swirling around in her head, as she tries to grasp onto one or any memory she can.
But that has it's drawbacks too. Gets me out of one sticky spot... but throws me directly into another. Bringing up PJ's name then launches all sorts of questions on his whereabouts. Mum has no memory that he's dead...most of the time.
The constant repetition is killing me. The Obsessive Compulsiveness is killing me. Combine these and I'm pushed right to the edge. I can feel that I am in desperate need of a break right now.
Last nite, it took me over three hours of constant attention and numerous attempts at finally getting mum successfully and safely into her bed. It's ridiculous, it's surreal, it's outlandish, it's crazy, it's demented and it's getting the better of me. In dementia-land, when you ask the sufferer to do something, like go to bed, you have to hold their hand every step of the way. You cannot leave for a minute, or all momentum is lost. Even if you follow it through, right to the end, (like actually getting her into bed\), it is usually followed by numerous wanders, questions, arguments, etc.... repeated over and over and over again, until finally something clicks and she is happy to stay snug in her bed. Simple tasks/routines like bedtime, morph into these horrific, horrendous tasks that you dread each and every day. Another example is the shower routine, or the bathroom routine. Yeah... you just grow to dread them.
What is sad, is that if you thread all these dreaded experiences together.... for example: dressing, washing, bathroom, meals, teeth brushing, bedtime etc............. There comes a time when you thread them together, stand back and realize that you are basically dreading your whole day... each and every day. Yes. There comes a time when you realize that you are dreading your life.
Mum is headed into respite for 21 days, at the end of this week. By the time she returns, I will be refreshed, rested, a little relaxed and ready to face each day with a new and different routine.
This (I find) is a very effective and efficient way to deal with the overload of "there comes a time". Its probably not. It's probably really unhealthy to bring myself to the burnout point, only to barely pull myself back for another really short time. But it's my way, it's working and I will have lotsa time to rest when I'm dead. :)
peace out.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Its never easy getting bounced......
Hi folks.
Yes, it's been a while since i've blogged. No excuses, other than I just haven't felt like it. I've been busy stressing about our upcoming trip to Florida. Trying to get cheap flites etc....
Getting bounced. M was officially "let go" from her day program last week. I believe I wrote to you about this at an earlier date, the issue being her bathroom routines, duties etc. Well yes... they bounced her. I'm not happy about it, but what can I do? Other than smile and thank them for all their service. It's sad.... M was just beginning to enjoy it.
I don't have alot of time to write today, as I'm heading off to the arena. I finally found my purse. it had been hidden quite deviously, under the coffee table in the living room. She hid it, i'm guessing, so that I would not leave the house last nite. In her mind, it's physically impossible for a woman to leave the house without her purse. Well... I left. My meeting was 3 hours last nite, and I left my husband in charge. That usually goes well, but last nite didn't go as expected. Emma ended up having to put nana "to bed" and sit with her for a while in order for her to calm down. God Bless my little Emma. Also God Bless my little Graham, for finally figuring out that sometimes it's just better to "get outta the mix". He dissapeared upstairs, never to be seen again, until I walked through the door @ 10 pm.
Ok folks. that's a boring entry for today, but sometimes I just have to "get back at writing"... whether it's interesting or not.
Yes, it's been a while since i've blogged. No excuses, other than I just haven't felt like it. I've been busy stressing about our upcoming trip to Florida. Trying to get cheap flites etc....
Getting bounced. M was officially "let go" from her day program last week. I believe I wrote to you about this at an earlier date, the issue being her bathroom routines, duties etc. Well yes... they bounced her. I'm not happy about it, but what can I do? Other than smile and thank them for all their service. It's sad.... M was just beginning to enjoy it.
I don't have alot of time to write today, as I'm heading off to the arena. I finally found my purse. it had been hidden quite deviously, under the coffee table in the living room. She hid it, i'm guessing, so that I would not leave the house last nite. In her mind, it's physically impossible for a woman to leave the house without her purse. Well... I left. My meeting was 3 hours last nite, and I left my husband in charge. That usually goes well, but last nite didn't go as expected. Emma ended up having to put nana "to bed" and sit with her for a while in order for her to calm down. God Bless my little Emma. Also God Bless my little Graham, for finally figuring out that sometimes it's just better to "get outta the mix". He dissapeared upstairs, never to be seen again, until I walked through the door @ 10 pm.
Ok folks. that's a boring entry for today, but sometimes I just have to "get back at writing"... whether it's interesting or not.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Ellen Degeneres..... you failed me today!!!!
I'm writing this as it happens. Today is not a good day. Those of you that know me well, may say that I never have "good days" .... that there is always something happening that makes it "not a good day". But that is wrong. I try to make every day, a good day.
One of our bigger high lites during the day is the Ellen Degeneres show. Marjorie loves it. Ellen makes her laugh. Marjorie thinks she's "naughty", and seems to relate to her sense of humour. I'll be honest, I do too.
I PVR Ellen everyday, so that I can have her on demand for Marjorie. Today, we have watched Ellen a total of two times. Number two is on right now. Even Ellen isn't working tonight. Normally our banter consists of Marjorie asking about Ellen's "partner".... Portia. I tell Mum her name, and no she is not part of the show, but she does make appearances occasionally. Marjorie asks if they are a couple, and then I explain, not only are they a couple... they are married too! Which then launches us into a whole conversation about same sex marriages and how they are mainstream now, but not recognized. If they are not recognized, they should be. Its a good banter.
but not today.
Ellen, Ellen, Ellen....... storm warnings during your show? Really? There are warnings running across the TV right now. You are speaking about Michelle Obama, and all Marjorie can speak about are the warnings running across the screen. The warnings are for regions not even REMOTELY close to us... but this cannot be explained.
Sit back, turn off Ellen, and switch to something that does not have a storm warning. I tried this, and Marjorie wailed to have Ellen back on the TV. The lessors of the evils was this.
So here I sit, watching Ellen, and trying to enjoy (for the second time), as I field constant questions about storm warnings, do we have candles, will the storm hit........ etc.
Sigh. Ellen: you failed me today.
One of our bigger high lites during the day is the Ellen Degeneres show. Marjorie loves it. Ellen makes her laugh. Marjorie thinks she's "naughty", and seems to relate to her sense of humour. I'll be honest, I do too.
I PVR Ellen everyday, so that I can have her on demand for Marjorie. Today, we have watched Ellen a total of two times. Number two is on right now. Even Ellen isn't working tonight. Normally our banter consists of Marjorie asking about Ellen's "partner".... Portia. I tell Mum her name, and no she is not part of the show, but she does make appearances occasionally. Marjorie asks if they are a couple, and then I explain, not only are they a couple... they are married too! Which then launches us into a whole conversation about same sex marriages and how they are mainstream now, but not recognized. If they are not recognized, they should be. Its a good banter.
but not today.
Ellen, Ellen, Ellen....... storm warnings during your show? Really? There are warnings running across the TV right now. You are speaking about Michelle Obama, and all Marjorie can speak about are the warnings running across the screen. The warnings are for regions not even REMOTELY close to us... but this cannot be explained.
Sit back, turn off Ellen, and switch to something that does not have a storm warning. I tried this, and Marjorie wailed to have Ellen back on the TV. The lessors of the evils was this.
So here I sit, watching Ellen, and trying to enjoy (for the second time), as I field constant questions about storm warnings, do we have candles, will the storm hit........ etc.
Sigh. Ellen: you failed me today.
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