A mild week. Yes, that's the word. Mild. Interesting in some aspects, quiet in others.
This week Mom took part in her regular regimen of physical therapy and BINGO! She continually wore clothes with stains, refusing to change out of them or allowing them to be laundered.
Most Saturdays Mom spends in her room. She has no interest in joining the others for meals, which is a concern; so, the staff refuses to bring her meals into her room as this sets a precedent for her to isolate. Her meals are still held for her so she won't go without.
On Wednesday, Jean came from the hospital where her brother was undergoing a procedure. She found Mother reading the paper in the great room. They discussed a couple of articles that Mom had read. Jean found her articulate on the subjects from the readings (later, Mom would have no idea of any of them). They also managed a bit of the crossword, and Mom showed no interest in the jumble.
Jean suggested that Mom change out of the sweater shirt she was wearing and put on something lighter, as the temperatures were not those of a frosty day. Mom obliged and went in and came out wearing a shirt with some noticeable dirt on them. Jean then suggested she put that one in the hamper for laundry and find another. Out came Mom wearing the original sweater shirt. Oh well!
Jean also looked for the ribbon she had brought the last week to tie the curtains, so Mom wasn't tying them together in a pseudoknot. This had obviously been something Mom had forgotten. Jean found the ribbon in a drawer and re-tied them. To be honest, this lasted until that evening when Mom untied them and hid the ribbon, again.
There was the suggestion they go outdoors and Mom began the search in the bathroom for the door that led to the garden. Nope. No such luck - it didn't exist. So, she stated she had the key and they could go out the regular way. So, they went down the corridor to the locked door that led to the front of the building. Mom showed her the keypad and then they (with an aide right behind them) turned and went back into the great room.
Back in her room, Mom read from one of Nadya's letters and finished by stating that her friend, Nancy, was dead. So, Jean turned her attention to the pictures surrounding her mirror. This led to a discussion of their mothers. "My mother IS a good cook," stated Mom. "How often do you see your mother?" asked Mom.
"Oh, once or twice a week, as they live next door," Jean retorted, keeping up the delusion for Mom.
This talk continued with them discussing the doings of their mothers who were very close and quite busy of late with each other, apparently.
Jean finally took her leave knowing Mom was doing well and in good spirits.
Saturday arrived and try as they could, the staff couldn't steer Mom into the shower or even consider bathing. Not only that, but they couldn't get her to eat her breakfast, even though she was up quite early. They were able to get her into a lighter shirt, though, and out of the sweater shirt she was demanding to wear every day.
And then she had surprise visitors: her grandson, Tim, and his fiancee, Becky. Mom had trouble recalling exactly who Tim was, let alone Becky (as they'd never met, before). Tim stated it was a little awkward at first, but Mom was in a convivial mood and truly enjoyed their company. After a bit Mom began to think Becky (who is of Chinese descent) was her niece, Kim (who is of Japanese and American descent). They played along brilliantly, for when I arrived they were laughing and truly enjoying themselves.
Finally, Mom remarked that she was quite hungry (it was after 1 pm and she'd still not come out of her room for anything to eat). I told her I'd arranged for them to hold her lunch, and while she was eating I'd give them a tour of the facility (a plot devised with the staff so we could easily escape). She loved the idea, but then decided to follow us...ooops! So, I escorted her back and kissed her forehead, reminding her of our doctor's (neurologist) appointment on Monday. She sat ready for her meal as we headed out.
Of late, with the exercise and good weather, Mom has been much brighter and adept in her moving. Her delusions are increasing a bit, but seeing her smile and be in such good spirits brings calm to my heart.
Tomorrow we see the neurologist, and we'll see what further information he has to impart.
This week Mom took part in her regular regimen of physical therapy and BINGO! She continually wore clothes with stains, refusing to change out of them or allowing them to be laundered.
Most Saturdays Mom spends in her room. She has no interest in joining the others for meals, which is a concern; so, the staff refuses to bring her meals into her room as this sets a precedent for her to isolate. Her meals are still held for her so she won't go without.
On Wednesday, Jean came from the hospital where her brother was undergoing a procedure. She found Mother reading the paper in the great room. They discussed a couple of articles that Mom had read. Jean found her articulate on the subjects from the readings (later, Mom would have no idea of any of them). They also managed a bit of the crossword, and Mom showed no interest in the jumble.
Jean suggested that Mom change out of the sweater shirt she was wearing and put on something lighter, as the temperatures were not those of a frosty day. Mom obliged and went in and came out wearing a shirt with some noticeable dirt on them. Jean then suggested she put that one in the hamper for laundry and find another. Out came Mom wearing the original sweater shirt. Oh well!
Jean also looked for the ribbon she had brought the last week to tie the curtains, so Mom wasn't tying them together in a pseudoknot. This had obviously been something Mom had forgotten. Jean found the ribbon in a drawer and re-tied them. To be honest, this lasted until that evening when Mom untied them and hid the ribbon, again.
There was the suggestion they go outdoors and Mom began the search in the bathroom for the door that led to the garden. Nope. No such luck - it didn't exist. So, she stated she had the key and they could go out the regular way. So, they went down the corridor to the locked door that led to the front of the building. Mom showed her the keypad and then they (with an aide right behind them) turned and went back into the great room.
Back in her room, Mom read from one of Nadya's letters and finished by stating that her friend, Nancy, was dead. So, Jean turned her attention to the pictures surrounding her mirror. This led to a discussion of their mothers. "My mother IS a good cook," stated Mom. "How often do you see your mother?" asked Mom.
"Oh, once or twice a week, as they live next door," Jean retorted, keeping up the delusion for Mom.
This talk continued with them discussing the doings of their mothers who were very close and quite busy of late with each other, apparently.
Jean finally took her leave knowing Mom was doing well and in good spirits.
Saturday arrived and try as they could, the staff couldn't steer Mom into the shower or even consider bathing. Not only that, but they couldn't get her to eat her breakfast, even though she was up quite early. They were able to get her into a lighter shirt, though, and out of the sweater shirt she was demanding to wear every day.
And then she had surprise visitors: her grandson, Tim, and his fiancee, Becky. Mom had trouble recalling exactly who Tim was, let alone Becky (as they'd never met, before). Tim stated it was a little awkward at first, but Mom was in a convivial mood and truly enjoyed their company. After a bit Mom began to think Becky (who is of Chinese descent) was her niece, Kim (who is of Japanese and American descent). They played along brilliantly, for when I arrived they were laughing and truly enjoying themselves.
Finally, Mom remarked that she was quite hungry (it was after 1 pm and she'd still not come out of her room for anything to eat). I told her I'd arranged for them to hold her lunch, and while she was eating I'd give them a tour of the facility (a plot devised with the staff so we could easily escape). She loved the idea, but then decided to follow us...ooops! So, I escorted her back and kissed her forehead, reminding her of our doctor's (neurologist) appointment on Monday. She sat ready for her meal as we headed out.
Of late, with the exercise and good weather, Mom has been much brighter and adept in her moving. Her delusions are increasing a bit, but seeing her smile and be in such good spirits brings calm to my heart.
Tomorrow we see the neurologist, and we'll see what further information he has to impart.
No comments:
Post a Comment