The Week Ending 02/28/2016

You never know which direction life will take you - I’m sure someone has said that in fact more people than I can count on all my digits.  

These past two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster, which is why I took a bit of a break from writing during the week - I just had to have some down time.  

So, let’s break it down for those of you who haven’t been up-to-date.  

A week and a half ago, we had Last Rites said for Mom.  It was almost certain we were heading for the end of life, but as it seems to be with this ailment (Lewy Body Dementia) we were wrong!!  Mom bounced back, more alert and alive than we’d seen in months!  

Some begin to claim it’s the medications - they’d been discontinued that week, but they were brought back in by the end of the week, as she was going strong!  But the reaction we had thought she’d had wasn’t present - so, it’s doubtful it was them.

The differences, though, are that she’s not eating much; to tell the truth, she’s eating less and less every day - but she’s ingesting juice, coffee, and water.  They’ve not been able to weigh her (she refuses to cooperate), but her clothes are growing baggy, her pants are too big, and she has definitely slimmed.  

Sunday last, my brother from Vashon came to visit.  He stated she seemed alert.  He stated she seemed more cognizant and alert than he’d seen in the past months.  She was recognizing his wife, and also was actively participating in the conversation with relevant comments.  We’ve not seen this for some time!

The redness in her eyes from this photo is where the edema fluids deposited themselves that week.  

Monday, Mom arose rather late.  She was eating minimally - about 10-20% of two meals, and sometimes her snacks.  She participated in activities and was quite cheery!

Tuesday, the same.  She arose late, ate a little breakfast, some dinner, and a bit of snack - but still only about 10% of each.

Wednesday, She arose late, but in came Jean and Connie:

Hi, Tony,

When I arrived just after 11 am,

Norma was sitting at a table in her usual place, with a muffin and half a cup of coffee on the table.

She perked up when she saw me and I spoke to her.  I told her I had brought polish remover and a pink polish for her nails.  I sat next to her and took her left hand, remarking on how nice she looked with her beige top and nice hair.  I talked quietly, and showed her the cotton I would use to wipe off the old polish, red with sparkles, which was on about half her nails.

She replied to some of my questions or comments, not always with appropriate thoughts, but always spoken pleasantly. She cooperated with my moving her hands to suit my "work."

Three times Norma bent over, obviously in pain, with hand on her breast.  I asked if it hurt, and she said Yes.This did not happen when Connie was there.

Connie and Joe Manning came in after a while.

Joe greeted Norma, and we three chatted for a few minutes.  He asked if I would take his mother home. I answered No, she could walk.  Somewhere during the earlier part of our visit Norma had nibbled half of the muffin.  A caregiver brought her fresh coffee.

I saw the  four envelopes on Norma's dresser: one from Kathleen, one from her friend Philis and two from Nadya. With Norma's permission I opened Kathleen's, she read the handwritten note aloud--perfectly--and we all admired the beautiful card.  Nadya's card with lovely "bumpy" flowers had a handwritten note, which Norma read perfectly.  She wanted to save the others for later and stood the two  opened cards on the table in front of her.

Norma said it was okay if I put the four cards back on her dresser.  

Lunch was served. Vegetable soup.  No interest, but she did accept the two tiny bites I brought to her mouth.  Nothing else looked good to her apparently, but she ate the small bit of pudding Iofina brought her. When I saw lunch was a lost cause, I asked one of the ladies to bring her more of that pudding. When it was offered she ate most of the contents of  the full dessert cup. But the apple juice was barely touched. She did say,"The apple juice tastes kind of bitter."

"I have to go to the bathroom," Norma said quietly, but with no sign of urgency. Iofina said she would get help for that.  We went  on chatting and left soon after that. I had seen no dropping off, just a calm demeanor with her few comments.  It was a good visit for all of us, I believe.

This was very cheering, considering we thought we’d be in another state of being at this time!

Thursday, she participated in activities but still was eating less and less.

Friday was much the same.

Saturday, Mom awoke late, had a nibble of lunch, and began refusing her yogurt (which she takes with her meds), which is odd.  She was still taking part in the activities and was not dopey in any way.  

Sunday, she arose late.  When I came to see her, she had her lunch before her but wasn’t eating it.  She told me I could have it.  I told her it was for her - she guffawed.  So, I gave her a bite of roast.  She ate it but had no interest in anything more.  She did take a bite of potato, and then another small bit of roast - then she was done.  She drank her coffee and her juice, but no more solids.  

So, Leddy and I discussed a liquid protein concoction that would get some protein into her body.  We gave her some ensure to see if that might work, but Mom took small sips and said it was too sweet, and she didn’t like it.  So, there goes that idea!  We’re working on a couple of other options…

Mom’s clothes (especially her pants) have grown too large, now.  So, I’m rifling through her clothes in the closet at my house to see what’s available.  

I asked her how she was feeling, and she stated she felt “Strange”.  The probing into this went nowhere - well, it went somewhere I wasn’t able to follow….

We had a good conversation, and we read the cards from Nadya.  I also showed her the newsletter she sent out in 2000 for Xmas, which had a picture of her in the Swiss Alps from her excursion there with friend, Lou Ann Sorenson (another old friend who lived on the Olympic Peninsula, but they had known each other from our residing in Enterprise, OR in 1971).  Connie had left that for me.  What a change in 12 years!

I showed her the picture and she asked me where I was in the photo.  I tried to help her memory but she just glared at me as though there was something wrong with me.  

Another note - when I leaned in to kiss her on the forehead, she started.  She seems much frailer and uncomfortable with anyone coming very close to her.  

The next days will probably answer some questions - such as, “What’s Next?”  

She may continue on this path for a little while longer, but as she refuses food, it’s unlikely it’s going to last too long.  

Stay tuned for updates!

Lazarette Has Risen - Again! OR The Week Ending 02/21/2016

They say Lewy Body Dementia is a roller coaster.  This week was certainly that, and more!

Monday, Mom slept.  She ate nothing.  She wasn’t very responsive, and she refused food and tried to refuse her meds.

Tuesday, Mom was worse.  She was refusing food, drink, and also wasn’t able to get up.  There was no response, even.  As she hadn’t eaten since Saturday, it seemed the end was near.  So, I asked for Last Rites and for Hospice to come for a meeting Wednesday morning.

That evening, Morina stayed past her regular hours to feed Mom pureed food (about 20% of her dinner) in hopes of giving her some energy.

Wednesday, my brother and his wife came down from Port Orchard for the ritual of the Last Rites and the meeting with hospice.  The ritual was somber; there were some reactions from Mom, but not much.  Her eyes were puffy from the deposits of fluid from her legs (the edema was greatly diminished having moved to other regions of the body).  

We met with hospice, and Noel told us Mom’s body was readying itself for the final stages.  There was the chance, though, she might rally again, but for how long no one could know - but it wouldn’t be for very long.

Mom didn’t look like herself - just a shell.  My brother and his wife didn’t recognize her, and I was taken aback by how fragile and at death's doorstep, she appeared.    It was incredibly sobering.

Jean popped in for a bit, trying to get Mom to take some water using the sponge for such situations.  Mom wasn’t interested.  It was touching, seeing the two life-long friends saying a possible farewell.

That evening, though, Morina and Mary began dripping water through a straw into Mom’s mouth, slowly and deliberately, to hydrate her.  Whether this had an effect, we’ll never know.  

Thursday, staff was moving about readying the other residents, keeping Mom’s room open so they could maneuver in and out more easily when they heard her bed alarm.  Suddenly, the door closed, and seconds later, the alarm stopped.  They ran over to see what happened.

There was Mom, sitting up in bed, asking to get ready for breakfast.  I’m not kidding.

By the time I arrived, she had eaten breakfast, snack, and was finishing her soup, but feeling nauseous.  I spent a while with her, but she was very tired.  As I left she was resting comfortably in the geri-chair facing the windows.  

That night I received a call - Mom was trying to walk, but had fallen. There were no injuries, and she just wanted to be helped up. Whew!

Friday, Mom was up, again, and eating her breakfast.  When I arrived that morning, she was finishing her breakfast but wasn’t at all hungry for much more.  She went to the geri-chair and we sat near the windows, where she fell asleep.  

When she awoke, she was ready to use the loo, so  the caregivers took her, and then she came back and rested some more in the chair.  She didn’t want any music, didn’t want to be read to, didn’t want much of anything, just to rest.

That night, I received another call (always seems to be around 840 pm). Mom decided to walk, again, and no one heard the alarm at first. There she was, favoring her left hip (her right one is arthritic from a fall several years ago). She refused help. She said, "I thought I could walk! I guess I was wrong..."

Hospice was called, as Mom complained to too much pain for the staff to help her up. When hospice phoned me they stated Mom was not allowing them to check her. So, they phoned the paramedics to come help her into bed.

Well, that's all it took. Two bright young lads came in, used a dragsheet, and hoisted her into her bed. Mom was so happy. She called out to them, "Thank you, you kind young men! Your mothers must be proud!"

When the nurse checked her for pain (we feared she'd harmed her hip or tailbone) it was simply the arthritic right hip and her knee (go figure!). So, they said they'd check in the morning to see how she would manage with the pain.

Saturday, she arose, and then Connie and Jean came for their visit.  It was a good one.   There were no complaints of any pain.

Jean says:

Norma had come to life, again, speaking in sentences and being quite logical. She didn’t eat much lunch but had already eaten a goodly portion of her breakfast rather late that morning.  

The little clique sat about and gibber-jabbed for nearly 2 hours, having a wonderful time, in the great room.  

Connie brought a picture Mom had sent her years before of her on a mountain top.  There was also a letter from Mom talking about what her family was doing (I’ve not seen this, yet).  It was a wonderful topic of conversation.

They aren’t completely sure of anything else they spoke of, but it was a very good visit.

The group laughed and chatted some more about what, God only knows.  

They said their goodbyes, as at this point, it’s unclear as to whether or not any of us will see her again in this life.  It’s just too frail a condition.

After two hours, the two lasses toddled off to their merry lives.  

Mom didn’t eat much else that day, but they made sure she did drink juice and water.  

Sunday, Mom was not really wanting to get up.  She talked about it, but it wasn’t until the staff reminded her I might be coming (around 1030) she finally decided to say, “No!” and then allowed them to change/dress her for the day.  

Soon after she rose, my brother from Vashon and his wife came to pay a visit.  She spoke to them both, and it seemed a good conversation.  They left a little over a half hour later, wanting to get home while the driving was still clear.  

Mom didn’t eat much today, so far.  She is drinking but has very little appetite.  What that means I  haven’t a clue.  I’ll be checking in on her this week, so we may be following along this path, or turning back on a loop to where we were this past week;  who knows by now?  We’re all befuddled.

But then, dementia is befuddling, isn’t it?!

To Sleep; Perchance to Dream

And so it begins.  

This morning, my brother and his wife drove down from Seattle and joined me in the Last Rites for Mom.  Later, we would meet with Noel, the hospice nurse.

The Last Rite is a ritual of the Catholic Church, of which we are members.  Many, apparently, confuse it with the Anointing of the Sick, or Extreme Unction.  The Last Rites are given to those who are beginning or already transitioning from this body and dying.  So, it was appropriate that Father Pat Donahue came in and performed it.

When my brother and his wife arrived they did a double-take at Mom.  They couldn’t believe it was the same woman who was in the photo in Sunday’s post.  Honestly, she did look quite different.  She was asleep, but her face was hollowing, her eyes swollen, and her mouth gave the appearance she hadn’t put in her dentures (but she does have all her own teeth, so that’s what makes it a little alarming).  

Mom came to for a few seconds but then dropped (not drifted) back into slumbers.  

Morina came in and told us that she had spent 2 hours the previous evening spoon-feeding pureed food to Mom, just to help her eat and get some nutrition into her system.  I swear, these caregivers and workers are angels - they go far and beyond their call, and they’re always smiling and looking for more ways to improve the quality of life for the residents.  

After we’d finished with the ritual, we (Tom, Peg, and I) went out to the dining area and Noel appeared.  We discussed what was going on.  

Noel explained to us that what Mom is going through is a typical method for the body to begin shutting down.  That she won’t/can’t eat, and cannot take fluids is something that actually helps the person avoid pain and suffering.  Were Mom to be re-hydrated, she would become more aware of the changes and things her body is going through and it would create suffering.  As it stands, she is in a state of delirium which keeps her from noting any of this.   Feeding her anything is fine, but unnecessary, as it will not help.   It seems as though Mom has already aspirated some food and fluids, which doesn’t help the situation.

We were also told that this transition could take a few hours, days, or even a week.  After that, though, it wouldn’t be long before the finality of her life is realized.  So, my phone is near my bed and charged in case.  

We also learned that during this period, Mom may have temperature increases and drops.  She will develop temporary fevers and then these will break and she will grow cooler.  This may be a cycle.  Her breathing, too, will be cyclical - long breaths with short ones, apneatic breaks, and then deep breaths again.  There were several patterns described.  

Mom is no longer on any medications except the methadone, which can be absorbed through the cheeks, so giving her some drops is simple.   There is no need for anything else, but the staff is ready if there is.

Jean came and spent some time with her lifelong friend (85 years!).  It was touching to see how she tended to Mom and was there to protect her.  

Now, it really has hit that each time we see her may be our last.   Luckily, there are many who have given fodder of memories in preparation for that event which seals the finality.   When that occurs, I still don’t know, but it may be sooner than we all wish. 

Stepping Gingerly On To Another Path

As you may recall from Sunday’s post, Mom didn’t seem very with it, nor was she eating or drinking.   She also began to refuse her medications - but Leddy discovered that when crushed and put in with the yogurt, Mom would take them - at least from her (Mom is fickle).  

Monday, Mom refused all meals, and they were able to get some medications into her, but she began “pocketing” food and drink, as well as her meds.  Now, “Pocketing” happens when the patient is unable to swallow as that function in the brain has begun ceasing to operate properly.  

I offered Mom some water, this morning, and she took a wee sip.  Then I tried another sip, soon after, and she took an even smaller sip.  It took a few moments for the water to find its way, and then I offered her more.  She stopped me and said, in a very weak voice, “No.  Maybe later.” And then she went back to sleep.

And so, it would seem the last steps have begun.  

Last Rites will be performed tomorrow, we hope.  There will also be a meeting with the hospice nurse, Noel.  From there we will be, hopefully, a bit better informed and prepared for the hours/days ahead.  

Hello Lewy, What's Going On? OR The Week Ending 02/14/2016

Happy Valentine’s Day!  

This was, “For Sure” an interesting week with Mom.  

Going back to last Sunday, just so you know, that after I had posted, Mom took a fall.  She was in the geri-chair and decided she wanted to get up.  Well, she did and then went down.  She was fine and not at all shaken.  So, they put her in a wheelchair.  

Rather than push on the wheels of the chair for movement, Mom used her feet to putter about.  They kept an eye on her and watched as she carefully parallel parked her chair by her room, then tried to stand up - plop! She fell again.  This time she had a bit of a bump on her arm, but still had no complaints.  So, we contacted hospice about putting alarms on her chairs.  They were there the next day.  Whew!  

Starting with Monday, Mom wasn’t really all that keen to get up, but she did in time to eat a little, then greet Connie and Jean:

Dear Tony,

We signed in just after 11:30 am at St. Anthony's to see Norma.  Her door was propped open by a wheelchair, with two caregivers in the bathroom helping Norma get cleaned up and dressed.

Jean offered to bring the big recliner-type rolling chair that was in the great room.  Bridget said Norma had fallen twice yesterday, trying to stand.  So the regular wheelchair is for her use now; it's safer.

Lettie was on duty; has been about a year since we had seen her. Lianna was the third caregiver we saw.

Norma was rolled out to the community room, looking good with her white sweater and blue jeans.  We sat at a table. Jean brought Norma the glass of red juice from her room; she had no breakfast, so, might at least drink that, we thought. She did drink that in the next few minutes.

We asked Norma if she'd had a haircut; her hair looked shorter.  Her nails had red polish, some worn off. Jean told her she will bring pink polish next visit.  Sun was shining, and we spoke briefly of the warmer weather.

Connie had brought a Wall Street Journal.  We spoke of what an interesting paper that is, and whether they had book reviews. Connie said,  “Yes, Friday or Saturday. And the delicious-looking recipes--those are fun to read.”

Jean asked Norma if she liked to read book reviews. "It depends on where they are and where I am at the moment."  Swear to God!

We asked Norma to read the first paragraph of one story, telling her, "I can't read the print from this distance."  So she read two or three sentences clearly. That was great!  Could not tell if she was taking in the meanings, but she certainly read well.  She appears to read stories in any newspaper; it's nice to hear her read aloud. Caregivers say she reads her papers.

We then morphed (is that the word?) into a discussion on onions and how we use them in our cooking.

Jean mentioned that her sister Kathleen does not like onions; but she, Jean, really likes them.  Connie told of cooking onion pieces with cheese soup; Jean told of the time my mom made creamed onions--not well received at her house.  Jean asked Norma if she likes onions. "Like him or like them?" she asked.

Norma's vision is good. When we asked if she could see the words on the bulletin board--pictures of hearts with "I love you to pieces" written on each one--she repeated the words easily.

Lunch was served, with soup first.  Bits of chicken with pieces of veggies. Without asking, Jean just started to feed her, giving mostly the meat. Four bites and no more.

Main course--an attractive plate of julienne cut string beans was next to a mound of small, thin noodles topped with a generous serving of ground meat in sauce and lots of shredded parmesan cheese.  Surely she would eat that, we figured.  Nope!  No deal there. The one bite we offered was met with the firmly closed mouth you have seen many times.

Okay--no lunch, and Lettie took the plate away, telling Norma she could have it later if she wished.

But then dessert was offered--new interest.  Did she want the raisin cookie offered or that gorgeous piece of chocolate cream pie? Three guesses.  She polished off that pie in short order--by herself.  Motivation is key.

A large colorful clothing protector had been put on Norma, to keep her sweater clean.  After she had eaten, Jean started to take it off but she wanted to keep it on. She indicated that by holding it so Jean left it alone.

During our two-hour visit Norma at times would lower her head, close her eyes and rest them; did she have little catnaps or just rest her eyes?  We could not tell.  If Connie or Jean spoke to her, she came back to us.  She always seems glad to have our company.

Norma was more engaged than in recent visits. Bridget brought three pills--one was the refused am pill.  Norma did not want to take them, but she took one at a time, with water to wash them down.

By 1:30 Norma looked ready for a nap. We said goodbye to her, and she said goodbye to us. No more of the old "I'll go with you."

The missive from the two guests illustrates how Mom has been this week.  Except----  She began rising before breakfast in a cheery and happy mood.  She might eat a part of her breakfast, then dabble on lunch, and either refuse or eat a smidgen of her dinner.  Sometimes, though, it seems as though she won’t eat the breakfast, will dabble with lunch, and eat even less dinner.  But, her spirits were up.

Yesterday, Saturday, Mom didn’t arise until around 11 am.  She ate very little lunch, then refused dinner.  She did not even want to think about breakfast!  The caregivers are discovering the art of dispensing her medications to her, as well.  They have learned (these are newer caregivers, so give them a little leeway, here) that you give Mom her pills, explain what each is for, and she’ll take them.  Simple!  Some try to give them all to her at once, and that doesn’t end very pleasantly.  

This morning, Mom didn’t want to get out of bed again.  I had told Leddy that my brother and his wife were coming to visit around 1030, so she might want to get up and greet them.  She did!  

However, this morning when I arrived, she had received a bouquet of Valentine Roses and was nodding off at the breakfast table.  My brother had left not long before.  Mom was alert when she wasn’t dozing.

“Hey there!” I said as I arrived.

She smiled.  “Oh, you’re finally here!  It’s good to see you!”

“You look very nice today.”

“Thank you!”

“Look at those beautiful flowers.  Who sent those for you?”

“You did,” she smiled.

“Did Lawrence come?”

“Yes.  He was here and spent the day with me.”

This was all through nodding off.  

Her breakfast plate looked relatively untouched, as did her yogurt, juice, and coffee.  I attempted to give her a piece of bacon, which was refused. “I want to do that myself,” she stated, while picking at her sweater.  She never did pick it up from the plate, although she did hoist her coffee cup to her lips and took a sip.  That was it.  Nothing more.  

Not much more conversation was to be had.  She wanted to nap right there.  She had used up her energy.  

We know it’s not the medication that’s doing this to her, now.  We do know that this disease is so cryptic and enigmatic no one knows what lies ahead.  

Perhaps she will be a little more alert tomorrow, as we’ve seen her go down like this before, but have an upswing in the ensuing days.  Or, she will just continue on this path of deterioration.  Only time will tell.  

Some Fond Memories

As Mom continues to decline, I am reminded through flashbacks of certain things about her.  Her defiance against certain rules (many times those of nature), her private moments of joy and play, and just some silliness that wasn’t at first…

I recall as a young lad going grocery shopping with the Mater.  She would do the week’s shopping and have a long list of items - sending me hither and thither among the aisles to fetch particular items. I was happy to do this, rather than having to ride my bike to Hillsdale or Raleigh Hills to gather items that she’d forgotten.  Many were the times I would hie myself back to where she was when I’d find her dancing behind the cart while perusing the shelves.  It didn’t matter what age I was, this was embarrassing!  Especially in the brand spanking new Fred Meyer’s in Raleigh Hills!  Once she’d realize my shame, she’d really get into it, and sometimes would try singing along!  Oh, the agony!

There were other times, as well, when I’d come home from school (in high school), and I’d enter the house quietly.  For me, there was no greater joy than to tip-toe in and startle her.  To hear her gasp and scream was a treat.  However, one day I walked in and there she was dusting the piano.  She dragged the rag over the ebony and ivory, then began dusting the keys one-by-one, pressing down on them.  She was trying to play a song!  She was humming along with the song she was attempting, as well….This brought me into such a state of shock I had forgotten my covert mission, and I walked into the living room and said, “That was very nice.”  Well, not only did I compliment her, but I made her shriek and freak out with a funky dance.  She tried not to laugh, but she did - as she chased me through the house telling me I’d get mine.  

Mom loved the beach.  If there were more going on there, she probably would have moved there years ago, after Dad died.  But the house is in a quiet and sleepy town that’s overridden with tourists and isn’t what she considered stimulating enough.  Her joy there was to be there walking along the beach and thinking.  If she’d had enough of that, then she’d be quietly enjoying a book, or entertaining friends and family visiting.  I believe she loved the solitude - just as long as she knew someone was coming eventually.  

Mom wasn’t a good follower of the rules of the beach, though.  There were times when the tide would be out far enough for us to hike around Chapman Point.  We’d go around and then spend some time on Crescent Beach, rather than driving up to Ecola and hiking down the short trail from the point to the beach (this trail no longer exists as it was finally washed out a few decades ago).  Unfortunately, Mom, the adult, would not pay very good attention to the tides.  I still recall having to swim, with the dog, through the rocks and out to the other side, closer to our beach.  The supposed trauma didn’t really last long, as we still had to hike back to the house, and there was so much more to see.  Mom called it a normal beach ritual.  I called it a warning to read the tide charts and watch the time around Mom...although she would argue that we were wrong and she knew best...so, it happened a couple more times, with Mom fighting us with the information - after all, how do you argue with the Queen?

Now, for some fun.  

Mom used to play FreeCell on her computer.  She’d play it for hours.  I mean HOURS!  Many were the times I’d phone her on Saturday morning and she’d be extremely tired.  

“Are you still in bed?” I’d ask incredulously.

“I did something very bad last night,” she would say.

“How late did you play FreeCell?”

“What makes you think I played FreeCell?”
“I know you.”

“Well….”

“How late?  2 am?”

“No.”

“Later?”

“Maybe…”

“3?”

“No.”

“4?”

“4:30.”

“You played FreeCell until 4:30 am?  You are an addict!”

“I know.  You need to come up here and take it off my computer.”

So, my brothers and I realized this was an issue.  I removed it from her computer.  This led to her dabbling in other games, but when she came to visit any of us, she would find the computer and begin playing leaving the rest of us in the wind. <sigh>

At one point, I had to re-program her computer.  So, I did and discovered I’d accidentally also re-loaded her FreeCell.  Ooops!   Mom ran into the room like a shark after a steak.  My brothers were quite unhappy, but I figure, ‘if it makes her happy…’  But then we really saw the effects of the addiction...so I removed it once and for all.  

 Then, there was the dishwasher incident.  

Now, not long after Mom tried to burn my house down she began to experience bad karma.  I suppose it had something to do with her not accepting responsibility for what she’d done; she told me she didn’t turn the stove on (she accidentally hit the knob and turned it on, catching the cooler on fire, then more happened- but that’s another story), but I should thank her for the new kitchen.  

So, one day Mom decided she was out of dishwasher soap.  So, what could she use?  Of course!  Let’s use the dishwashing soap!  

Mom had had her floors replaced a couple of years earlier.  She phoned me to tell me she had soapy water all over the floor, and more was coming out of the dishwasher.  What should she do?  Honestly, I couldn’t stop laughing.  She was beside herself. The insurance covered the cost to replace her flooring.  

Insurance also had to replace her carport after Mom gave her friend a driving lesson.  Her friend missed the breaks and went into the center posts and brought it down.  “Well, it really wasn’t her fault,” Mom stated.  “She couldn’t find the brake.”  So was the thinking of Queen Mater.  

We don’t see any of this anymore, but we can look back fondly and remember.  

How many of you remember stories of your loved ones?  Are they in writing for posterity?

Hallucinations and Their Differences and Causes in LBD

While reviewing the medications for Mom we began a discussion to remove Quetiapine from her regimen.  She has been taking the minimal dosage for nearly 3 years, and she hasn’t had any hallucinations that we’ve seen.  The doctor and neurologist are in the process of making determinations.  

I made a comment to one of the staff about this, and I was told about two other LBD patients who reside in the care facility, neither of whom I’ve had contact.  One, a male, sees kittens and tries to trap them.  The other, a female, sees children; apparently, while she is at the dining table she has been known to order these kids out from under the table and to go away.  Mom had hallucinations of people entering her home and taking things - something far more traumatic.    So, this led me to wonder whether there is a connection between a person’s own psyche/personality and what they hallucinate?

While personality may be germane to the types of hallucinatory events, the causes have more to do with the psychosis produced in the brain through increased dopamine levels (PsychCentral).

IN fact, should the patient begin to develop psychoses in the early stages of, say, Parkinson’s, then the diagnosis will become Lewy Body Dementia.  This is because the cerebral cortex and the substantia nigra are affected, while with Parkinson’s, it’s the brain stem and the olfactory bulb that holds the beginnings of the disease (Parkinson’s Disease Foundation).

 with Thanks to Bimaristan Al-Masuri

There wasn’t any research, though, that I could locate that would ascribe anything about personality and the connection to types of hallucinations - for instance, why would one person have traumatic ones, another sweet kittens, and another naughty children?  Is there a connection to their past life or psyche?  

After reading several clinical studies and scouring articles involving psychoses, hallucinations, PDD, LBD, and other assorted ailments, I began to learn something:  Usually, lesions (or, in our case Lewy Bodies) have taken hold of a part of the brain which then leads to the type of hallucination experienced - be it auditory, olfactory, tactile, or visual.  Now, I realize this has little to do with the connection of personality, but….

With LBD and other dementia patients, there are other factors taken into account for the causes of the problem(s):  Urinary Tract Infections, Anxiety, and Dehydration, for instance.  There are also other brain injuries and diseases which could lead to more prevalent hallucinations that are far more severe, but we won’t be including these today.  

Of course, this is where I’ll leave you.  There’s nothing worse than working a full day, coming in to read something and finding yourself having to re-read in order to catch all the information - that’s why I’m only going so far with this.  

But don’t you wonder sometimes?  And doesn’t this question make sense?  Perhaps I’ll do a little more digging...

Some Interesting References:

7 Strange Types of Hallucinations

Visual Hallucinations

What You Need To Know About Psychosis in Parkinson's Disease

Delusions v Hallucinations v Illusions