The week went past with Mom engaged in her Crosswords, Bingo, and regular activities.
Jean came for a visit in which she re-arranged the flowers in Mom's room, and then they sat in the great room to do the jumble and crosswords. Mom had some difficulty doing the jumble, but she attempted it! Then, moving onto the crossword, she attacked it with vigor. She and Jean enjoyed a nice discourse while solving the clues, Mom mostly entering the letters into the correct boxes, more often than not.
One of the residents, Lucile, who has severe AD, sat at the table dealing with her lunch when her husband was escorted in to join her. He was diagnosed just last year. And now he has some heart issues - he's not doing well, but he is a very happy and jolly soul. I know he's still in assisted living and I wondered for some time as to why he hasn't been placed in the same room as she. Then it occurred to me that, despite their diagnoses, each needs their own personalized care. Were they to be together and something happened, it would create more problems than it solved. Sad.
Mom had no inclination to go for a walk. I do know she enjoys walking to Bingo, which is a hike through the facility, but her interests are fading insofar as doing anything that isn't in her normal range of action now.
She has bathed in the past week, and the trick seems to be that if they catch her before she dresses there isn't a problem. Wine, ice cream, and expected visitations have no effect; she doesn't recall them long enough to make much of a difference.
Yesterday was the 4th, and of course, fireworks. Today Mom didn't recall anything, but I was told she was demanding that people stop hammering and banging on things last night. Another resident, Barbara, also made the same complaints. Of course it was only the banging of the fireworks. Good to know Norma Regina is still in charge, though.
This morning it seemed an eternity for her to come out of the bathroom. I was told she had been convinced to take a shower, but that she refused to wear clean clothes. We kept popping into her room to make sure she was still alive and her voice resonated well from behind the bathroom door. She was dressing, she said. Well, at least her person was clean.
it seemed, too, an eternity for her to get herself ready to leave. I was able to get her compression stockings on and then her sandals. Next, she demanded to have a jacket despite being told it was going to be well into the 90's out today. Her response? "Well, just remember how the Eskimos would dress in that sort of weather!" Catch my drift?!
We were able to leave with a sweater draped over her arm. Once outside she complained of the heat and told me I hadn't told her it was this warm - only that it was cool and comfortable. <sigh> But once underway she was content.
We were stopped, on the way, by a train and several minutes later, at Jean's, she was asked about it. She had no idea what we were talking about. We had to wait it out for nearly 10 minutes and she kept remarking about how long it was. Funny how quickly she forgets.
As we neared Jean's house we passed a massive three-story house on a very large lot.
"My goodness that house is HUGE!" I stated.
"That little thing? It's not very big at all," she declared.
"Are we talking about the same house?"
We were. I'm not sure if this was back to her old habit of contradicting everything I said or if her processors were off
We arrived at Jean's, and she had a little trouble going up the steps, but somehow managed.
Her thoughts were (as one of her nurses stated) salad: all mixed up but she was still making an overall point. Her voice wasn't very clear, either.
She did look a bit tired.
She wasn't very interested in lunch; she just picked at it and then offered it to me, thinking me rude to decline (but I'd already had mine).
Later, Terry and his daughter, Jada came to visit. Jada had just come from England on a tour. We began discussing the country and sites and Terry asked Mom if she'd ever been there (usually Mom has no recollection of ever going anywhere outside of the US, let alone many places in the US). Mom began chatting in a regular voice, making full sentences and spoke with clarity. It was pretty amazing!
We left after a bit and arrived back at St. A's. She went into her cooled room (68 degrees) and sat down to rest.
She had a pretty good day.
Some thoughts:
Mom thought I should send my great-grandfather a Christmas card to cheer him up. She said he thought I was neglectful. I never met him.
Mom also spoke of her cousins and siblings. None of what she said made much sense, but apparently they were all having a wonderful time.
She asked about Jean's mom as we drove, and I told her that Ruth (Jean's mom) and my grandmother were doing something today and were feeling quite lively. Mom agreed and stated that her mother had told her they were going to be working in the garden today. How grand!
As we left the car at Jean's, too, Mom suddenly rebuked me. I hadn't said anything much within the last few minutes except for her to tell me how to help her out of the car. "You need to stop saying nasty things about people and their families!" she snarled. Now, this came from nowhere. There had been no comments or discussions about anyone except the evil drivers who chose to move at 20 mph below the limit on the streets. Oh well.
One of the residents, Lucile, who has severe AD, sat at the table dealing with her lunch when her husband was escorted in to join her. He was diagnosed just last year. And now he has some heart issues - he's not doing well, but he is a very happy and jolly soul. I know he's still in assisted living and I wondered for some time as to why he hasn't been placed in the same room as she. Then it occurred to me that, despite their diagnoses, each needs their own personalized care. Were they to be together and something happened, it would create more problems than it solved. Sad.
Mom had no inclination to go for a walk. I do know she enjoys walking to Bingo, which is a hike through the facility, but her interests are fading insofar as doing anything that isn't in her normal range of action now.
She has bathed in the past week, and the trick seems to be that if they catch her before she dresses there isn't a problem. Wine, ice cream, and expected visitations have no effect; she doesn't recall them long enough to make much of a difference.
This morning it seemed an eternity for her to come out of the bathroom. I was told she had been convinced to take a shower, but that she refused to wear clean clothes. We kept popping into her room to make sure she was still alive and her voice resonated well from behind the bathroom door. She was dressing, she said. Well, at least her person was clean.
it seemed, too, an eternity for her to get herself ready to leave. I was able to get her compression stockings on and then her sandals. Next, she demanded to have a jacket despite being told it was going to be well into the 90's out today. Her response? "Well, just remember how the Eskimos would dress in that sort of weather!" Catch my drift?!
We were able to leave with a sweater draped over her arm. Once outside she complained of the heat and told me I hadn't told her it was this warm - only that it was cool and comfortable. <sigh> But once underway she was content.
We were stopped, on the way, by a train and several minutes later, at Jean's, she was asked about it. She had no idea what we were talking about. We had to wait it out for nearly 10 minutes and she kept remarking about how long it was. Funny how quickly she forgets.
As we neared Jean's house we passed a massive three-story house on a very large lot.
"My goodness that house is HUGE!" I stated.
"That little thing? It's not very big at all," she declared.
"Are we talking about the same house?"
We were. I'm not sure if this was back to her old habit of contradicting everything I said or if her processors were off
We arrived at Jean's, and she had a little trouble going up the steps, but somehow managed.
She did look a bit tired.
She wasn't very interested in lunch; she just picked at it and then offered it to me, thinking me rude to decline (but I'd already had mine).
Later, Terry and his daughter, Jada came to visit. Jada had just come from England on a tour. We began discussing the country and sites and Terry asked Mom if she'd ever been there (usually Mom has no recollection of ever going anywhere outside of the US, let alone many places in the US). Mom began chatting in a regular voice, making full sentences and spoke with clarity. It was pretty amazing!We left after a bit and arrived back at St. A's. She went into her cooled room (68 degrees) and sat down to rest.
She had a pretty good day.
Some thoughts:
Mom thought I should send my great-grandfather a Christmas card to cheer him up. She said he thought I was neglectful. I never met him.
Mom also spoke of her cousins and siblings. None of what she said made much sense, but apparently they were all having a wonderful time.
She asked about Jean's mom as we drove, and I told her that Ruth (Jean's mom) and my grandmother were doing something today and were feeling quite lively. Mom agreed and stated that her mother had told her they were going to be working in the garden today. How grand!
As we left the car at Jean's, too, Mom suddenly rebuked me. I hadn't said anything much within the last few minutes except for her to tell me how to help her out of the car. "You need to stop saying nasty things about people and their families!" she snarled. Now, this came from nowhere. There had been no comments or discussions about anyone except the evil drivers who chose to move at 20 mph below the limit on the streets. Oh well.
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