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.