A fairly pleasant week. But the weather played games as it went from warm to cold, blue to grey, sunshine to rain as the wee progressed. But this evening it was quite pleasant and warm; one would believe this would make certain people (ahem) more agreeable. Ha!
On Wednesday, the RLC came for a long visit. They relished in Mom's crosswords, trying to help her solve various clues and marveling at her ability to focus and complete them so well. They spoke of bygone times and people they knew. For some reason, Mom recalls more for Jean than she does with us. That's fine, I still hear about it.
This evening found Mom rather tired. My brother had driven her up the Columbia Gorge to Cascade Locks and then across the bridge to drive back on the Washington side of the river. She remarked that it was very beautiful and relaxing.
Then she began to tell me about the work that was being done on the brown window sashes at her home (her sashes are a light khaki in her room - she'd never call them brown). Apparently there was quite an ordeal. Upon returning, I asked her about them and she told me I was imagining things, and that no such thing had ever occurred.
Before dinner, we engaged in some light banter. My brother told a joke, my sister-in-law told a joke, but Mom was upset that these jokes weren't funny and the one my brother told was unkind (he told a joke about a proton...no one could be offended). This continued, and she was unable to find much amusement in anything, nor any joy - in fact, it was as though we had our old mother back - one without a sense of humor who found her joy in chastising anyone who could find anything amusing. She contradicted nearly everything that was said, despite our speaking on certain articles and research we'd read during the week. Nothing we said went without criticism. Ah, Mom. However, she wasn't able to actually make coherent her arguments as they segued into statements that had nothing to do with anything with which any of us could relate.
We spoke of people we knew and gave updates, which she found offensive as these people should have been made fun of. I would feel some guilt, however, there was nothing said that poked fun at anyone, just news and we spoke of how good it was to hear such good tidings - this nearly set her off. Hmmm. Comprehension and delusions seemed to be mixing with each other.
She sipped on her lemonade, which we finally spiked with some white wine and she seemed content.
When she stood for dinner the pain in her lower back overtook her and she let out a howl. A few steps and sitting down on the couch seemed to help ease the suffering.
Later, I realized that her ability to stand and move had improved since last week. I've a feeling she's walking and doing more exercises with her lower body, lately. Must investigate.
She ate well and then began hacking. My brother told her she should stop smoking (a habit she never acquired) and she had a few words for him. Then she went to the loo where the hack attack continued and concern for her health ensued. I explained that there was a good chance that this could be the first stages of congestive heart failure which may be the path she takes to her end. But we don't know.
She came out and a few minutes later had no recollection (or one that she was willing to admit). This is difficult because Mom would always deny anything (even if it was smacking us all in the face) just to make her appear faultless and strong.
On the way home she inquired about my mother. "Where does she live in Port Angeles?"
"Who do you think my mother is?"
"You know. Stop playing games with me."
"Well, who am I, then?"
"You're my son."
"Then you know where in Port Angeles my mother lives."
"What are you talking about? I have no idea. That's why I asked you."
<sigh>
We passed a Franz bread truck with 3 trailers. Mom thought this an excess of trailers to transport wood. I told her it was bread, not wood. She said it was both, naturally.
"So they make wood and break?"
"Of course."
"And you don't like the bread?"
"Not particularly."
"Is it because it's too crunchy? or is it the slivers on the tongue?"
"No. It's too common. There's too much bread, already."
And so it went.
As I delivered her to her room she sat down. She was convinced my brother had given me her watch, but I found it in the lacquered box next to her bed.
"Oh, what a smart person you are! Thank you!"
Then I took her hand and kissed her on the head. She ripped her hand from mine.
"Act like an adult! You don't grab people's hands like that unless you're someone's idiot child!"
"Love you!" I retorted as I left.
Note to self: Make call to St. A's about her pain, and inquire about exercise. Possible Doctor Trip in near Future.
On Wednesday, the RLC came for a long visit. They relished in Mom's crosswords, trying to help her solve various clues and marveling at her ability to focus and complete them so well. They spoke of bygone times and people they knew. For some reason, Mom recalls more for Jean than she does with us. That's fine, I still hear about it.
This evening found Mom rather tired. My brother had driven her up the Columbia Gorge to Cascade Locks and then across the bridge to drive back on the Washington side of the river. She remarked that it was very beautiful and relaxing.
Then she began to tell me about the work that was being done on the brown window sashes at her home (her sashes are a light khaki in her room - she'd never call them brown). Apparently there was quite an ordeal. Upon returning, I asked her about them and she told me I was imagining things, and that no such thing had ever occurred.
Before dinner, we engaged in some light banter. My brother told a joke, my sister-in-law told a joke, but Mom was upset that these jokes weren't funny and the one my brother told was unkind (he told a joke about a proton...no one could be offended). This continued, and she was unable to find much amusement in anything, nor any joy - in fact, it was as though we had our old mother back - one without a sense of humor who found her joy in chastising anyone who could find anything amusing. She contradicted nearly everything that was said, despite our speaking on certain articles and research we'd read during the week. Nothing we said went without criticism. Ah, Mom. However, she wasn't able to actually make coherent her arguments as they segued into statements that had nothing to do with anything with which any of us could relate.
We spoke of people we knew and gave updates, which she found offensive as these people should have been made fun of. I would feel some guilt, however, there was nothing said that poked fun at anyone, just news and we spoke of how good it was to hear such good tidings - this nearly set her off. Hmmm. Comprehension and delusions seemed to be mixing with each other.
She sipped on her lemonade, which we finally spiked with some white wine and she seemed content.
When she stood for dinner the pain in her lower back overtook her and she let out a howl. A few steps and sitting down on the couch seemed to help ease the suffering.
Later, I realized that her ability to stand and move had improved since last week. I've a feeling she's walking and doing more exercises with her lower body, lately. Must investigate.
She ate well and then began hacking. My brother told her she should stop smoking (a habit she never acquired) and she had a few words for him. Then she went to the loo where the hack attack continued and concern for her health ensued. I explained that there was a good chance that this could be the first stages of congestive heart failure which may be the path she takes to her end. But we don't know.
She came out and a few minutes later had no recollection (or one that she was willing to admit). This is difficult because Mom would always deny anything (even if it was smacking us all in the face) just to make her appear faultless and strong.
On the way home she inquired about my mother. "Where does she live in Port Angeles?"
"Who do you think my mother is?"
"You know. Stop playing games with me."
"Well, who am I, then?"
"You're my son."
"Then you know where in Port Angeles my mother lives."
"What are you talking about? I have no idea. That's why I asked you."
<sigh>
We passed a Franz bread truck with 3 trailers. Mom thought this an excess of trailers to transport wood. I told her it was bread, not wood. She said it was both, naturally.
"So they make wood and break?"
"Of course."
"And you don't like the bread?"
"Not particularly."
"Is it because it's too crunchy? or is it the slivers on the tongue?"
"No. It's too common. There's too much bread, already."
And so it went.
As I delivered her to her room she sat down. She was convinced my brother had given me her watch, but I found it in the lacquered box next to her bed.
"Oh, what a smart person you are! Thank you!"
Then I took her hand and kissed her on the head. She ripped her hand from mine.
"Act like an adult! You don't grab people's hands like that unless you're someone's idiot child!"
"Love you!" I retorted as I left.
Note to self: Make call to St. A's about her pain, and inquire about exercise. Possible Doctor Trip in near Future.
