Hide And Seek!

If you recall, Sunday, Mom refused to arise and shine from bed.  However, the next day she was up and about as though nothing had happened.    These things happen - although I’m still searching for some answers/clues that could help me understand.  

Today, though, I thought we’d talk about a phenomenon that began within weeks of Mom’s placement at St. A’s.  While this is not peculiar to her, it is with LBD patients, believe it or not.  

Mom used to have a perfect place for everything, and before her decline (at her home) she would have everything pretty much in its place (no, she wasn’t one of those who obsessed over the perfect arrangement with spot-on placement).  She knew where things were.  

Now, with her dementia advancing, Mom has very little idea where much is, nor what she has.   She began, simply enough, with her purse.  One morning when I came to fetch her she complained that she didn’t know where her purse was.  We looked everywhere around her room.  Finally, after all the obvious places, drawers, under the bed and other furniture, in the hamper, under cushions, etc., I found it tucked under her bed pillows.   She laughed - “How could I have put it there!?” she wondered aloud.  

Well, things have progressed.  

Not long ago, the LPN, who manages the place, begged me to make a key for Mom’s room so they didn’t have to keep unlocking it for her (she locks it to keep everyone out as she believes they wander in and take things).  I told him I would, but it wouldn’t make a bit of difference - she’d put it away and we’d probably never see it again until she died.  He scoffed.  

So, I did it.  I put it on a coiley-type band and gave it to her.  I had her use it even.  The next day it had vanished and she hadn’t any notion to what I was referring when I asked about it.  I spoke to the LPN and told him.  He heaved a heavy sigh with acceptance and resignation.  

Mother’s room has since become quite the black hole for many things:  glasses, cards, videos, vases, silverware, pencils...you name it, it’s probably stashed somewhere in there and you’ll be hard pressed to locate it.  

Mom has taken to putting magazines, bags, letters, kleenex, and whatever, into boxes.  I do go through many of these and toss out the garbage (which she tells me are still useful - but I don’t believe wadded up tissues, apparently used, would be of healthful use to anyone) and figure out what to do with the rest.  

Mom hadn’t lived in Oregon for nearly 25 years so she doesn’t remember the bottle bill - all her pop cans end up in the garbage, but I believe the staff picks them out and deals with them appropriately.  

There are some things Mom does keep organized, though - Her watch stays by her bed in the little lacquered box from Japan.  Her purse is always somewhere - it’s something enjoyable to locate.   Her glasses are a challenge - every time I visit there seem to be more pairs in her drawers than the time before;  this includes sunglasses which I can’t remember her wearing at all in the past 20 years.  Dirty clothes can be found in the drawers or on the hangers- she doesn’t want them washed as she doesn’t see the need - they never get dirty, she says (HA!  They’re filthy!) so I have the staff rummage through her drawers and closet to wash as much as possible while we’re out.  Everything for the bathroom stays there - it never leaves, so that makes that rather uncomplicated.  

Mom has also decided that her little mandarin oranges need to be out of the fridge and they are to be found in the cabinets, drawers, closet, or wherever she can think of.  Luckily the soda stays in the fridge.  

There was a point when the staff requested I buy her more <ahem> private panties <cough cough> but I knew she had more than enough.  Apparently she was hiding these wherever she could to avoid the embarrassment of anyone discovering she may have had an accident or two.  

How oddly the brain works.  She asks me to fetch things from the basement for her - so I leave for a couple of minutes and come back, knowing she will have forgotten.  

They say this is considered something of an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but this actually bypassed my understanding.  Others call it Hide-N-Seek.  It’s pretty typical for the LBD patient.

I honestly find it a great diversion - I never know what I’ll uncover while searching for something relevant - and her reactions are always unpredictable.  But that’s for another time.