This week was a mild one.
Mom had no visitors until today, but she was still able to do her regular things, like Bingo, and other activities set up at St. Anthony's.
Unfortunately, everyone had events this week, and for the RLC the wind storm didn't help, either, what with the power outages, and all.
Mom received two Christmas cards which I left with her in the evening after dinner. She was quite happy with both. She read to me another she had received, but I fear it came another time, perhaps a year ago; it still gave her a smile.
Tomorrow, Mom gets to see the neurologist at East Portland Neurology, for the second time. This will be an interesting follow up.
This evening, Mom stated that her week had been quite stressful. In fact, as we arrived at St. A's, she told me she really didn't want to go into work tomorrow, as they expected far too much from her as they were just incompetent (which job or to whom she was referring is somewhere in the ether).
She was just a tad demanding, but very much out of sorts. At one point she asked where Dad had gone (meaning he had just been with us). I told her he needed to take care of some things and would rendezvous with us tomorrow; she found this a bit tough to swallow, but kept it to herself.
She was rather confused this evening, and rather than committing her to conversations where she was making statements that were not with an awareness she needed to actually participate we were able to redirect her to small talk. However, she still had an opinion on much that was said - even if they were completely off mark (making her confusion and her reality much more apparent).
ON the way home she wanted to give driving commands. I'm so happy she's no longer driving! Red lights are just bothersome and needn't be followed if she wants to go. She also tried to get me to change lanes on the freeway, even though we were approaching our exit. Even when wanting to take the freeway all the way out to St. A's, she thought it silly and stupid of me, as the street roads would be quicker, in her opinion. Luckily, though, I kept breathing and smiling.
She even had an opinion on all the wasted space of buildings she saw as we went over the Marquam Bridge. And then there was the comment about how safe the bridge was - and then I said it: "Well, just pray there's no earthquake. That would stop us both from feeling very safe!"
"Well," she replied, "if someone wants to be silly enough to do something like that when they aren't really equipped mentally and physically, then they should probably go find another job."
See? This is what is meant by my days can be a merry-go-round. But, aside from her asking why we didn't bring her car tonight ("Did you leave it at your brother's when we left?"), she determined that we could pack a lot more things in my car (I really need to get back to my wonderful home in Port Angeles and take a nice, hot, bath!")
Upon leaving her she was getting ready for bed and taking her medications. All was well, again, for her, and she'll, most likely, dream a new reality in the next several hours.
Mom had no visitors until today, but she was still able to do her regular things, like Bingo, and other activities set up at St. Anthony's. Unfortunately, everyone had events this week, and for the RLC the wind storm didn't help, either, what with the power outages, and all.
Mom received two Christmas cards which I left with her in the evening after dinner. She was quite happy with both. She read to me another she had received, but I fear it came another time, perhaps a year ago; it still gave her a smile.
Tomorrow, Mom gets to see the neurologist at East Portland Neurology, for the second time. This will be an interesting follow up.
This evening, Mom stated that her week had been quite stressful. In fact, as we arrived at St. A's, she told me she really didn't want to go into work tomorrow, as they expected far too much from her as they were just incompetent (which job or to whom she was referring is somewhere in the ether).
She was just a tad demanding, but very much out of sorts. At one point she asked where Dad had gone (meaning he had just been with us). I told her he needed to take care of some things and would rendezvous with us tomorrow; she found this a bit tough to swallow, but kept it to herself.
She was rather confused this evening, and rather than committing her to conversations where she was making statements that were not with an awareness she needed to actually participate we were able to redirect her to small talk. However, she still had an opinion on much that was said - even if they were completely off mark (making her confusion and her reality much more apparent).
ON the way home she wanted to give driving commands. I'm so happy she's no longer driving! Red lights are just bothersome and needn't be followed if she wants to go. She also tried to get me to change lanes on the freeway, even though we were approaching our exit. Even when wanting to take the freeway all the way out to St. A's, she thought it silly and stupid of me, as the street roads would be quicker, in her opinion. Luckily, though, I kept breathing and smiling.
She even had an opinion on all the wasted space of buildings she saw as we went over the Marquam Bridge. And then there was the comment about how safe the bridge was - and then I said it: "Well, just pray there's no earthquake. That would stop us both from feeling very safe!"
"Well," she replied, "if someone wants to be silly enough to do something like that when they aren't really equipped mentally and physically, then they should probably go find another job."
See? This is what is meant by my days can be a merry-go-round. But, aside from her asking why we didn't bring her car tonight ("Did you leave it at your brother's when we left?"), she determined that we could pack a lot more things in my car (I really need to get back to my wonderful home in Port Angeles and take a nice, hot, bath!")
Upon leaving her she was getting ready for bed and taking her medications. All was well, again, for her, and she'll, most likely, dream a new reality in the next several hours.
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