The week has been a slightly better one for Mom, healthwise. She has been getting up and eating everyday and doing her activities, for the most part. This is good. However, as you will note, she has declined further into her dementia, which is to be expected, yet rather sad. She hasn't been eating her breakfasts, which allows her blood sugar to drop and....well, read on and you'll understand.
On Wednesday, Jean came by for a visit in the morning, as the temperatures were to reach over 100. She found Mom garbed in her beige pants and shirt - which had stains on it (it’s so difficult to get her to surrender her clothes for laundry, still!), and a grey sweater; Mom wanted to stay warm, you see. She was wearing her compression stockings, which I’m noting she keeps on more than not (remember please, that she is known for removing them several times a day - perhaps that stage has passed, even for a short period).
She told Jean that she was cold and needed the warmth; when Jean felt her hands, she was indeed cold to the touch, so Jean kept rubbed them for her. By the time she left, Mom’s hands were staying warm.
Upon arrival, Mom was reading the Oregonian - Jean discovered that all Mom wanted to read were the headlines - she wasn’t willing (or able?) to read the stories beneath. So, Jean went in to replace the dead dahlias with fresh ones, and returned for conversation with Mom.
This part is interesting, indeed, as chatting with Mother has entered a new phase, as well. It seemed, to Jean, that a cogent conversation was not possible nor probable. Mom would begin saying something that would segue into another thought then segue again into something else. So, Jean tried to get Mom outdoors and into the garden. This failed. Mom had no desire to do so.
Jean, at last, said her goodbye to Mom who had no interest in rising or getting up to join her, nor did she request a ride from her. This is becoming more common - before Mom would assume she was leaving with the visiting party and requested a ride home.
When Jean wrote to me that afternoon, there was a touch of sadness in her words. We talked about how vital and strong Mom was in the past and now she’s becoming a shell of herself. There are still elements of her Norma Regina reigning in there, but the woman who loved to hike, play tennis and pickleball, play Bridge and Scrabble, have faded into distant memory.
Today, I decided that it might be best to just have a 1:1 visit with Mom, depending on how she presented when I arrived. Leddi (the med-aide) had told me she was up and moving when I texted her in the morning - this was a good sign. I wasn’t sure how long the visit would be - it depended on Mom’s energy level and her ability to mobilize. As it happened, this was a wise decision.
I arrived near the end of lunch. As I entered I saw all the ladies sitting around tables, but no Mother. Usually she sits at the table nearest her room - but only Rosemary (the one who punched her a few months back, but given the dementia, neither of them remember the incident) was there. Where was Mother?
Leddi told me Mom was still in her room. She explained that when we texted Mom was up and dressed, and was going to get ready for breakfast. She had put on a dirty blouse so Leddi asked her to try another that was clean. Mom told her she’d think about it. Hmmmm - that means a passive-aggressive, “No!” with Mom.
I went into her room and found her lying perpendicular to the bed in a semi-fetal position.
“What are you doing still in bed?” I inquired.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not feeling all that energetic - they came in and pranced around this morning and woke me up,” she drawled out while looking at me sheepishly.
“Well, your lunch is out there waiting for you.”
“I don’t feel well enough to get up or eat. You have it.”
All this while I was searching high and low for her sneakers. Leddi told me she was becoming quite the artist at hiding her things, and as a result her favorite sneakers went missing. She had found one pair but was unable to to locate the other. I found them - in a cupboard behind her other sneakers. Both pairs had socks in them. That girl!
Eventually I discovered that she hadn’t eaten anything yet this today. So I found myself convincing her to eat some orange slices Leddi provided from the kitchen. Mom just looked at them, then gradually arose and accepted the napkins I provided, as well.
Now, what is not known is that Mom would not eat for long periods of time during the day before she was committed. She would phone me and tell me she had eaten a piece of toast earlier in the day but she was too tired to eat much more. So, while we were on the phone I would prompt her to get a glass of milk and drink it while we chatted - then she’d also get a piece of fruit and she would eventually sound like herself again, as happened again this afternoon.
If someone were a fly on the wall, I wonder what they would have thought listening to our conversation. Mom talked about being kidnapped and when I asked her who had done this she remarked that it didn’t really matter as it was only a partial kidnapping.
She lucidly stated that she was there for something that was wrong with her, then started to become emotional. I asked what was wrong with her and she told me that her mother was gone. I asked about what she meant by “gone”. She replied that her mother was dead. Then she asked if I’d spoken to her recently, as she was quite busy lately - and probably out doing something with my grandfather and Jean’s parents.
Next, we discussed the gathering that occurred in her room. “Who was there?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Just a lot of people like that one couple you enjoy.”
“What are their names?”
“Oh, I don’t remember. Why are you harassing me? You really are the worst son I have, you know. You shouldn’t just walk off and leave your family like you did.”
I seriously haven’t a clue what she was speaking of. But then, she told me that I wouldn’ t understand many things, especially since my nephew of 17 years was much older than I; that my father had woken her up this morning but she hadn’t seen him in a very long time and he hadn’t woken her up, but they had a very nice time last night. And the list goes on.
I did tell her that she had a dentist appointment this week with Dr. Brad, but she said she didn’t know him and she wasn’t sure she was willing to go. Then she offered that Dr. Brad had put a very large pillow across her bed and they had had a very nice conversation.
Finally, I was able to convince her to arise and have her lunch. I walked out for a moment to let the staff know and upon returning found her making her bed. This was quite an adventure that seemed more a comedy than reality.
We put two pillows under the comforter. Next, we took the other two pillows and placed them on top (I was on the other side of the bed from Mom). Then, we needed to place the throw pillows, which I did in the fashion she had told me (within the last year - but that’s a no-go now, apparently). Nope. Couldn’t do that. We had to find the other two pillows. I found them under the comforter. She pulled them out and then asked why they weren’t under the comforter. We put them back. We put the pillows back on top of those. Then, we had to arrange the throw pillows in a symmetrical manner, meaning they must line up with the divide in the pillows, but be at an angle. Next, we went back to where are the other two pillows? And the process repeated itself. Breathing deeply helps. At last we had that resolved so I put her sandals on her feet
Next, came the hair. I went in to the bathroom to fetch her hairbrush but there was only a comb. I brought that out but she stated that it wouldn’t do. She told me to get her hairbrush from the bathroom. I told her it wasn’t there. She pointed to her dresser and told me to look in a certain drawer. It wasn’t there. She then pointed to another and another and another and another, until I just opened the most illogical one and there it was.
I brushed her hair for her and then she stated that it was very rude of me. As she rose from the chair she looked at me and my hair. “Whose hair are you wearing today?”
“Mine.”
“Are you sure? It doesn’t look like yours.”
“Yes, whose hair would I be wearing besides mine?”
“I don’t know what secrets you have. Don’t ask me,” she said as she crossed the room to the bathroom to have a look at my semi-styling skills. She was aghast.
“You make my hair look like it’s full of balloons! It looks like it’s going to fly off my head!” she exclaimed with shock.
We laughed heartily.
Finally she was up and out the door. Her lunch was warmed for her and she was given a cup of coffee with cream (a non-negotiable). She ate with intent.
We then discussed my brothers and other people who came to visit. She was aware than one brother had visited only 3 times since she had come to live there. She stated that my other brother in Seattle was the one who visited most often and that I came on rare occasion, but she hadn’t seen my eldest brother in quite some time, even though I reminded her we had dinner with him at least twice a month.
“Nonsense!” she snorted. “You’re full of prunes!”
I then brought her the paper and placed it in front of her. She began looking at it while she continued eating her mashed potatoes, carrots, turkey and peach cobbler. When I began to say something she shushed me and told me she was trying to concentrate on the paper. This was my cue.
I pecked her on the head and left.
On the way out I bumped into Leddi and we compared notes. She stated that Mom’s blood pressure was high today, and that she wasn’t having breakfast very many mornings; she would be up but wouldn’t come out, and as a result she was losing weight. She also stated that earlier in the week she began babbling nonsense and couldn’t make words. We agreed that this was a sign of things to come. A sad realization, but sometimes reality likes to kick when we believe we are prepared.
No comments:
Post a Comment