Whose Hair Are You Wearing??? or The Week Ending 08/02/2015

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.  

Fireworks, Salad Talk, and The Week Ending 07/05/2015

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.

The Week Ending 1/25/2015 or Norma In and Out of the Looking Glass....

This was something of a busy week, with some revelations about Mom's status, health-wise...nothing alarming, just....

So, The first part of the week went, I am to presume, without incident.

Wednesday, the RLC (Connie and Jean) came for a visit.   They didn't play Scrabble, but chatted.

Mom is having pain in her leg, and is beginning to tell people she's going to lose the leg.  Hmmm.  We have an  appointment for the 2nd of February, so we'll see what happens.

As they were leaving, Mom wanted to follow them in her car (which she stated was in the back, but it wouldn't be a problem for her to get it, drive around and meet up with them).  But they understood there was a gathering, so this was a fine excuse for them to take their leave so she could attend.

Thursday, my brother from Port Orchard, Tom, and his wife, Peg, came down and took Mom to lunch.  As they drove to their favorite hangout with Mom, the Broadway Grille, Mom began dictating they were going the wrong way.  She kept offering directions to her grandparents' house in Irvington, and then to Jean's, stating they were expected.  Well...this was news!

As she'd already eaten by the time they were able to arrive, she wasn't very hungry, but she did have enough room for a milkshake, and some wine!  But of course!  Everyone knows that ice cream is good on a full stomach, and mixed with wine it makes a lovely combination!  Ugh!

The attendant who takes care of Mom's Physical Therapy arrived, once they returned, and told Mom she needed to have her session.  Mom excused her and told her she didn't want it.  AHA!

So, Mom is refusing, apparently, her P/T, nor is she allowing massage, which seemed to stave off the pain she was having before.  Now the pain is returning, and she is unwilling to do anything for it.   Except, tonight she stated that I was crazy, thinking she had any pain.

Arrrrg!

This evening, she wasn't able to completely get what was what.  She was able to carry on a semblance of a conversation, but then it would saunter off into another realm.

An example?  She  and my brother were discussing his children.  Then, out of the blue, "How long has it been since you lived with your mother and father?"

My brother was perplexed.  "You mean, how long since I lived with you and Dad?"

"No, your parents.  We're not your parents."

"That's funny, I always thought you were my parents."

"Uh uh.  No, we're not."

I'm not sure what happened next, but my brother was gladdened by my stating we needed to get going.

Earlier, Mom was busy with the newspaper, taking it apart and then trying to put it together again - "The pages aren't right.  I need to put them back in order!"  Now, with the Sunday edition, this can be seen as a bit of a Herculean task!  But, she got them together, as she saw fit, and then put it away.

A lovely dinner.

On the way home, I asked Mom if she could see the stars.  She finally saw one, then began embarking on a lecture about how people might assume I'm not intelligent.  Odd.

When we arrived at her place, she was terribly weary.  She wanted to know where I wished to sleep, and couldn't understand why I wanted to go home.  But, after checking the fridge, where she told me people were stealing her sodas (it was full of soda - almost as though she hadn't had a one in the past week since I filled it).  I found oranges in her cupboards, the fridge, and she told me she had some hidden elsewhere.

<sigh>

I kissed her goodnight, and reminded her we had a dentist appointment Wednesday.  She shrugged her shoulders and gave me a kiss goodnight.

We'll see if she's ready on time on Wednesday, or if she's going to be stubborn...another story awaits, I'm sure. 

Interesting Points of Thinking Interest - The Week Ending 12/7/2014

 How Delightful Her Royal Highness was this morning!

I came in to find her gazing and observing others over her coffee.  She was happy to see me (and why not?!).  So, we began with the 'putting on of the stockings' routine.

Now, I'm not sure I've described this before.  Mom sits in her recliner, then waits for me to remove her shoes and socks.  Next, I am to put on her stockings, one at a time (if you can do two, you aren't normal).  Her feet tend to be quite relaxed, which makes this task difficult - there is no help from her at all, and all the while she's dictating to you how to do it properly (and this doesn't always make any sense).  Next step is to get her to elevate her feet on the footrest of the recliner.  Phew!  Now, once that's done, and you've put the stockings on, she wants me to fix her pant legs, put on her shoes and socks, tie them, and adjust.

Well, this morning I went to  a point in all this, then finally exclaimed, "My dearest Victoria Regina.  Surely there must be a small simple part of you that would enjoy taking care of those things yourself."  She laughed and replied, "Why should I when I have you doing it all?!"  Sigh of Exasperation!

This morning we also went on a little walking trip to Laurelhurst Park, in Southeast Portland, near one of our old homes from the 1960's.  Originally we were going to go to Mount Tabor, but when I parked and Mom realized we'd need to walk up a little hill she demanded we go somewhere else.  "I just ate and going up hills makes me terribly queasy.  I'm already nauseous enough.   Find another place."  So, we ventured to Laurelhurst.

The park was marvelous.  It was cool.  On the way there, Mom chatted about how she'd given some pants of hers to Connie and Jean (The RLC) to fix so that they could be given to my brothers and myself for Christmas as gifts.  Knowing this was very much a possibility, I was hoping either Connie or Jean would have appeased her and just put them to the side (Remind me to speak of the Executive Bibs for Xmas).

We walked, looked at the trees - Mom seemed rather upset that so many trees in Portland were dead and no one was removing them!  I tried explaining it was Autumn, and nearly Winter, and she understood that, but then she basically stated that they were dead and needed removing before they killed people.  Sigh.

We looked at the birds.  There was a seagull swimming about, but Mom stated it was a swan, not a seagull, and she explained the bands of grey on the wings as a tell-sign.  This I knew not.  This I still know not.

Eventually we made it back to the car.  She did need to go uphill, which took 4 stops to go 50 feet, but it was worth it just to give her the opportunity to exercise.

Next, we drove by our old Laurelhurst house, but she couldn't recall which it was, but I did.  So, we went off to the house where she was born.  We couldn't locate that, either.  We then went to another house I remembered, near 60th and Fremont.  She still drew a blank.

Next we drove down to Jean's house for lunch.

Mom told me about her week, as we drove.  She did play Bingo, and she won (of course)!
She'd had her toenails done - just clipped, though.  She stated she didn't want her hair done, yet.  She wanted to wait until next month when she was back home in Port Angeles.  Uh oh.

At Jean's, Mom was quite busy.  She took over the small reading nook, and kept Jean engaged while I made lunch.  Finally, we were able to eat.  Mom ate healthily.  She ate the entire salad of kale, spinach, scallions, tangerines, mushrooms, tomatoes, orange peppers, olive oil, and balsamic.  She ate the pineapple and Canadian bacon pizza.  She loved the pecan - chocolate cream pie, as well.

A little later, Terry (Jean's son), and his daughter, Jaida, appeared.  Terry wanted to talk about the State Playoff Football game the day before, as my students played against his alma mater.  It was a good chat.  Mom had a very good time, as well. She was quite engaged.

We finally left, with Mom feeling tired but happy.

She did well this week, except that she's somehow managing to refuse to do certain things which are calls for concern.  These are things I'm going to investigate this week.

So, Stay Tuned!