Knowledge is Power

We learned a few things while mom was hospitalized for two and one-half days. Apparently, mom had passed out at the breakfast table and they couldn't revive her. The home called the emergency squad who revived her with oxygen and transported her to the hospital. My sister arrived at the hospital before either I or mom and spoke to the people in charge. They informed her that we would not be able to get in to be with mom for at least 20 minutes until they had her stabilized. Sis told them they were not going to do this to her again...that our mom is 92 and has severe dementia and we need to be by her side. They told her she would have to wait no matter what. Since we had been through this discussion before when mom broke her hip, we now knew how to deal with the hospital staff. When mom arrived (and we learned that she was still alive), we simply marched right in with the squad and followed the stretcher. We didn't look right or left, made no eye contact with anyone and kept marching along until we got safely in her room. No one dared to stop us. It was amazing how a little confidence and authority can work in your favor.

Of course, mom was yelling at the top of her lungs and was wildly disoriented so I think the staff was glad we were there to help calm her down. We also could answer questions regarding her medications and general status so I'm sure we were a help rather than a hinderance. What we learned is if you have a loved one taken into the emergency room, find a way to get in there. The last time we had to sneak in through the locked doors as someone was exiting. This time we pushed our way past any obstacles with sheer force of emotion. We would not be stopped!

There will be more in a day or two on this subject. Now I'm going to bed to try and shake this horrible cold.

Grateful

After an unbelievably difficult day today and three horrendous days before that, I am surprisingly grateful for a few things. I may have enormous troubles with mom but I have a wonderful supportive family to help me through this period. There is no way I could be the only caregiver for mom. It's too much for two people, let alone one. My sister is the other half of the team. We try to share the time spent with mom to lighten the burden. There are days, such as today, when it would be impossible to handle this situation alone. I'm truly grateful I'm not an only child.

Just got home from a quick dinner out with my dear husband who listened to me tell all about the horrors of today with mom. He didn't try to "fix" anything because it can't really be fixed. He listened, comforted, and occasionally changed the subject to try and get me to relax. I'm grateful I married such a kind man.

I'm grateful I have two wonderful children. Last night my son called and we had a great chat. He was concerned about my bad cold and how I was dealing with the stress I was under caring for his grandma. He also made me laugh and entertained me at length. Today his several e-mails asking for various recipes gave me something to do while recovering from my cold. Then today my daughter called with a dinner recipe question and we also had a nice conversation. Later tonight she sent some pictures and several videos of my three year-old grandson running around with his sunglasses on in his "Super Ben" cape and also videos of my three month-old grandson giving some great grins. I was smiling through my tears looking at my adorable grandchildren and thinking about the cycle of life. The children have full, happy lives ahead of them while my mother is nearing the end of hers. The old live their lives to the fullest and pass on and the young take over the living. This is the way it is meant to be. For the old it's the suffering in between the living and the very end that is so difficult to understand. There ought to be a better way to leave. I'll be grateful when she is at peace.

Kicked When Already Down

Wow. Life can be cruel. Today I cancelled out on my regular golf game because I have a nasty cold. My plan was to stay in bed for most of the morning and try to get better. Unfortunately, life had other plans for me. Had a call from mom's place saying they were taking her to the hospital as she had passed out at breakfast and they couldn't revive her. My sister has been staying at our place this past week since she is having tile work installed. She was up and ready to go so she raced over to the hospital. I jumped out of bed and out of my nightgown into hospital attire as fast as I could. There would be no getting over my cold today.

When I arrived at the parking lot of the emergency room, my sister was waiting for me. The ambulance had not yet arrived. We began saying things like, "Well, I guess this is it. Mom is finally at peace. At least we got to tell her we love her the last time we saw her." We shared the Kleenex and teared up as the ambulance approached. There were no sirens and no sense of urgency. As the EMT opened the back door of the ambulance there was silence at first. Then my sister said, "Is that mom's voice?" Mom was moaning her usual, "Oh, Lord, help me." She was still alive. We had conflicting emotions. We had previously wished for her to be out of her misery and yet were so happy she was still alive. I guess one is never truly ready for their mother to be gone.

The emergency room ran the usual blood tests and hooked her up to various machines to monitor her heart and blood pressure. Took a chest x-ray, EKG, put in a temporary catheter to obtain some urine to check for a UTI, gave her a Xanax to calm her down, and had us wait with mom for a few hours before finally admitting her. Meanwhile, mom was sneezing her head off. We thought perhaps she was allergic to latex or the oxygen tube they had in her nose. Her nose ran like a faucet and was red and raw. Turns out she must have caught my cold. How cruel is that?

I have more to say on the hospital visit but that will have to wait. Right now I'm going to bed and trying once again to get rid of my cold.

Taking the Good With the Bad

There was some bad news and some good news at "the home" today. I spoke with Francine, the activities director for the other building, who happened to be in the foyer of mom's building when I arrived. She filled me in on some of the details of recent developments. The supervisor and her assistant are gone. I don't know if they left of their own volition. Regardless, there is no one in charge. Bad news. She said they are actively looking for replacements and have many candidates lined up for interviews. Good news. Unfortunately, the head honcho is out of town for a few days so everything is on hold. Bad news. Francine was optimistic and promised things would get better soon. She said everyone would get trained again in the treatment of Alzheimer's patients. That was my opening to give Donna, the best CNA, a big compliment, and I did so at length. I also said I wasn't fond of one of the aides and told her who it was and how she behaved. She informed me that JoAnn had moved across to the other building. Good news.



My roller coaster ride of emotions continued as the morning wore on. Mom was calm early in my visit but became upset during lunch. She could not get the soup to her mouth so I handed the small bowl to her so she could sip it. This wasn't very successful so we quickly moved on to the main course. She was very frustrated that she couldn't seem to use the fork. The food kept falling from the fork back to the plate or onto her lap. Occasionally, she would stab at the place mat as she couldn't see the food. To relieve her frustration I loaded up the fork with food and handed it to her. This worked for awhile but eventually she was ready to give up. I fed her the rest of the meal. She opened her mouth like a little bird while I put in the food. Dessert is usually the best part of her meal but today she couldn't even manage the ice cream. Again, I spooned it in her mouth. So, she was well fed, but I fear she is slipping even more in her ability to do the most basic of things. Bad news.



Claudine, the nurse, told me the doctor had DC'd (discontinued) the nasty-tasting Coalace and increased the dosage of the preferred medicine which has no taste. A small but satisfying victory. Very good news.



I asked mom if she was tired, and she was. I wheeled her back into her room and managed to transfer her from the wheelchair to her lounge chair all by myself. After getting her all comfy in the chair with her feet up and her new soft blanket covering her, I suggested she try to take a nap. A few days ago I had purchased a small cd player for her room. I put on a cd of beautiful relaxation music which I played at a fairly loud volume. I gave her a gentle head massage and she was peacefully asleep within minutes. She was content. Very, very good news.

Oh, Donna

Today when I arrive, mom is sitting in her lounge chair and the CNA is administering her pills. She has trouble swallowing so now the pills get crushed and hidden in ice cream. Mom has Alzheimer's but she is hard to trick. She finds the smallest bits of pills and spits them back out. Back in they go and back out they come. This goes on until the pill has dissolved or is too small to put back in her mouth. There was one pill which was too large for her to swallow so they switched her over to a liquid which tastes horrible. After a month of watching mom suffer, the nurse and I discussed changing the liquid Coalace to another brand which has no taste at all. The new prescription has arrived but the CNA is not only giving her the new tasteless medicine but also the Coalace. This has completely defeated the purpose of switching to the new medicine. I was trying to spare her from having to take the Coalace. The CNA calls a different nurse on the walkie-talkie and this nurse says, "If she isn't having any incidents (diarrhea), give her both." I will have to call the other nurse on the phone tomorrow to discuss this further. In the meantime, I have to watch mom struggle to swallow the vile-tasting stuff for one more day. My heart lurches as she gags and makes faces. Mom pleads, "Oh, please, do I have to take this?" Once my sister watched as mom coughed and choked, gasping for air. Sis wondered if she should do the Heimlich maneuver, or wait to see what would happen next. Mom had signed a DNR order but Sis certainly did not want to watch as mom breathed her last in such a disturbing way. We have agreed that mom is miserable but the end should be peaceful, not choking to death over a nasty-tasting stool softener. Where is the dignity in that? Fortunately, mom recovered that day and Sis did not have to determine mom's fate.

Generally, I am in awe of the CNAs as most are very patient although some are definitely better than others. There is one who is clearly unhappy in her job and doesn't mind sharing that information with me. She wants to move back north, hates the heat, hates the way the home is run, hates most of everything. I don't like that she talks about mom and the other residents in front of them. It's as if they aren't there and she can insult them all she wants. There are times when a person with Alzheimer's is completely spaced out but there are also times when they are alert and comprehending. One would think the CNA would know better than to talk this way. It's her way of venting and, so she thinks, connecting with the family members when she relates the horrible things that go on or the strange things mom says. Obviously, she hasn't been trained in sensitivity as she upsets me and sometimes, mom. I hesitate to say anything to her or to report her to the supervisor as I know she is quitting in May. It's awful, but I'm afraid to complain because I don't want her to take it out on mom when we are not there. She isn't an evil person, just not appropriate for this job. Fortunately, I haven't seen her lately so maybe she is already gone.

And then there's Donna. This CNA is wonderful. She has such a calming effect on all of the residents. Her voice is pleasant with a little southern accent. She gets results from mom that no other aide can get. She gives mom notice of what she is about to do such as, "Janet, you need to stand up now. Grab the bar." Mom replies, "I'll try." Donna says, "I know you can do it. Put your hand on the bar. Now the other one." Amazingly, mom does it. When the other aides try to get her to stand up, they can't do it by themselves. It takes two of them and even then they have trouble. They don't have Donna's technique and they begin pulling on mom's arms which makes mom resistant. Mom says, "Ow, ow. Stop doing that!" Then they toss her on the toilet or chair or wherever they want her to be. Not that they physically hurt her, but she gets frightened and tenses up so they have to move her more deliberately. Their patience is gone, mom is upset and, if I'm there, I'm upset. I long for the days when Donna is on duty and taking care of mom. Donna soothes not only mom, but me. She reassures me that she will make mom comfortable, that she will stay with her until she is calm and so on. Donna truly cares about the residents and loves taking care of them. Unfortunately, they only make $6.00 an hour and many of the aides don't go the extra mile. Most of them are good, but they're not Donna.

While I Still Can

Finally got over to see mom today after a week of no admittance due to the virus going around. I'm not sure she knew who I was as I didn't receive the usual dramatic greeting but she was happy to see me whoever I was. Overall, she was in pretty good shape. They must have washed her hair in the shower as it was wild. That was understandable since they wouldn't let the hairdresser in either. The building was spotless and smelled pleasantly of cleansers. Anti-bacterial lotion was in the elevator for general use. Obviously they were being very diligent in their efforts to keep everyone healthy.

Mom was in art class when I arrived. She had "painted" (filled in) a rose on a Happy Valentine's Day card with water colors. I asked John how she could have done this since she can't see much. He said she did the yellow and then they touched up the red. She was covered with paint but content. Ten minutes later she asked me what it was. She didn't remember painting it.

After sitting in a wheelchair for months without any physical therapy, she is getting weaker and weaker. It is becoming more and more difficult to get her to stand up to transfer from the wheelchair to a chair or the toilet. Her legs buckle and she is in obvious distress. So, I decided to do some leg exercises with her to strengthen and stretch her muscles. She was most eager to try this and we spent a good twenty minutes at it. I followed the exercises with a nice massage. She commented that she felt very relaxed. After getting toileted, mom said to the CNA, "I'm sorry to cause you so much trouble." To which the aide replied, "You aren't any trouble, Janet. This is my job and I like to take care of you." Then she gave mom a kiss on the forehead. I was glad to see her be kind to my sweet mother. Then we went in search of lunch as she was hungry but we were too early. To kill time before lunch we took a quick trip outside to the porch and then decided to go back in and give her teeth a floss. She started to do it and then rather vehemently said, "I don't want to do this!" I was quiet a minute and then she started in flossing again. The frustration had passed and she was working hard to accomplish the task before her. It's always a fine line between pushing her to be independent and do whatever she is able to do or doing it all for her. They say it's best to let her do what she can but it is painful to watch her struggle.

At lunch mom became mildly agitated. She started in with the "Lord, help me" and "oh no, no." I was right next to her and don't know what set her off. Perhaps the annoyance of the cold air from the vent blowing on her or the frustration of not being able to get the food to stay on her fork. It's any one's guess. I looked around the room and watched another table of four women who had finished their lunch. They sat in complete silence and one of them was actually asleep at the table. Mom was moaning, MarthaJean was wandering around and the rest of the residents had left the room. I realized I was holding my breath the whole time and came home exhausted. It was then that I became motivated to live the rest of my life with joy. I wanted to go the gym and move my muscles. I wanted to laugh and be aware and full of life. I have good genes. I will probably live to 100. This may not be the best news. So, while I still can, I will live life with a purpose and not complain about the little things. I will do my best to stay healthy but I will also eat dessert and have some fun. The day may come when I, too, exist, but do not feel alive.

Missing

Everyone knows the saying, "You don't appreciate something until it's gone." In Sun City Center, it couldn't be more apropos. Power outages are commonplace here. Usually, they only last a few seconds but last week the power was out for several hours. No t.v., no Internet, no phone (thank goodness for cell phones), no opening the refrigerator, no microwave or electric cook top, no lights, no nothing!! We so rely on everything always being there that we miss it when it's gone.

Yesterday I heard a loud gurgling coming from the guest toilet. Never a good sound. Nothing further happened until today when all three toilets wouldn't flush. Then we discovered our shower and a tub had backed up. The county water engineer determined there is a clog in the buried pipe coming in from the street. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the flush-out valve which is also buried. So, we will wait two hours or so until another technician comes to find it and blow it out. I'm thirsty and want water, or perhaps a cocktail. We all know what goes in, must come out so I'm hesitant to fill up on fluids. Can't cook dinner without water. I'm sticky and sandy from playing golf earlier and really want to take a shower. Can't really go to a restaurant looking like I do. We can't leave anyway until the pipe is fixed. Sure do miss the water.

Still can't visit mom as that nasty stomach virus is still going around so they won't let us in. It's been three days since either Sis or I have gone over to see her and we both say it feels odd to not be there or to see her. Fortunately, we can telephone her but that isn't very satisfactory as she can't hear well. Mom is sad and missing us. There are days, I must admit, when I don't really feel like giving up my spare time to go to the Alzheimer's unit and deal with all that goes on there. The electricity and water problems are a gentle reminder to me of what is really important. While I have always appreciated my mother, I'm not sure I realized just how much I will miss her one day.

It Depends

A good day at the Alzheimer's unit depends on many factors. It can depend on which CNA is on duty. It can depend on how cold the building is. It can depend on the activity of the day. It can depend on properly functioning bowels. It can depend on Depend incontinence underwear.



My sister, C, and I take turns visiting our mother every day. She also pays mom's bills, balances the checkbook, sends out birthday cards for mom (making sure mom signs the cards...but no longer the gift checks as her handwriting is illegible), and replenishes her personal supplies which she buys at a Costco discount. Looking at this list of chores, I realize she does much more than her fair share. I have offered to do the checkbook and bills but I think Sis knows I've never been very good at math and probably would just as soon do it herself. Anyway, the whole family is very appreciative of all she does for mom.


Back when mom was in rehab for her broken hip, one of the nurses suggested we keep a journal of our time spent with mom. It was an excellent method of recording what various doctors or nurses did or said. It eliminated the lack of communication between the various nursing shifts and whichever sister was there. This proved so successful we continue the practice today. While some days there isn't a minute to sit and write anything down, mostly it works quite well. A few days ago, Sis didn't have time to write in our log so she e-mailed me the following review of her most interesting visit:



"Today, Kay was walking around the living room with a wadded-up Depend leaving a trail of cotton-like snowflakes on the floor. She kept saying she had to get rid of it. She kept massaging it and pulling it apart. She passed it around to all the other women. Gigi leaned precariously out of her chair to pick up the white fluffy pieces. Kay went around picking up the fluff off the floor, too. The dinner cart came in and when it was unloaded, Kay asked the man to help her get rid of the Depend. Now it was opened up and you could see the poop. She placed it on the food cart! Wow. He got some paper towels and corralled the flying offending mess. Finally, the caregiver took her to the bathroom to fix her up. Meanwhile, all the other ladies were scurrying around gathering up the pieces scattered around the living room. The food guy walked by me with the cart on his way out and I said, "Some heavy duty disinfecting is going to have to happen on that cart." Gigi kept trying to get out of the chair and asking me to help. I told her to wait for a caregiver. Edith tried to help her and I thought the two of them were going to crash. I kept telling them they were going to get hurt. The second care associate appeared on the scene and I told her to help Gigi get up. Then I see Gigi leading Marie around by the hands. Marie looked very unsteady. I looked for her walker and saw Kay with it. I said, "Isn't that Marie's?" I gave it back to Marie and helped her to work the handles. She was very happy. Mom's hair looked very nice. We went outside before dinner for some Vitamin D in the sunshine. She was a little worried about things and it was hard to figure out what she was worrying about. I did my best to guess and assure her. She did say she was not happy and wanted peace. So, that is what I pray for her, peace."


Now, three days later, there is a stomach virus going around the second floor where mom lives. My sister and I think perhaps it could be e-coli from Kay's errant Depend. A good day at the Alzheimer's unit? It depends.

Bitter Sweet Words

My turn to visit mom today. Overall, she was in good spirits, not excessively worried about anything and very talkative. Most of what she said didn't make any sense so I struggled to keep the conversation going in a cheerful, upbeat manner. Sometimes agreeing with her that, "40% is better than none, and we should keep the same schedule because that over there doesn't have anything on it." I looked to where she was looking (directly at a small tree with no leaves) and tried to go with that idea. "Yes, I said, the tree has lost all of it's leaves." Of course I guessed wrong. When she absolutely insists that I give my opinion, I freeze because I'm not sure what we are talking about. I must be careful because she is such a worrier and I could be agreeing to something that would really frighten her. By the time I question her to try to figure out what she is trying to express, she has forgotten what it was and is off on another tangent. It's impossible to keep up. These conversational mysteries are easier to handle while she is eating because I can distract her by suggesting she take another bite.



As stressful as it is to try and untangle the thread of her thoughts, I remind myself that at least she is still capable of speaking. As the Alzheimer's disease progresses, her ability to form any words will diminish and finally stop. At least for now, I can hear her occasional laugh, hear her use my name, hear her voice. Maybe I should be content with that because some day I will have to try to remember what she sounded like.

What the Heck is Whey Protein?

It's hard to admit that I gained some weight over the holidays. Actually, I gained quite a bit before November and then continued upward on the scale with each appetizer and party goodie I consumed. It didn't help that our financial advisor sent us a huge gift basket filled with sweets and chocolate in every form: cookies, candies, chocolate covered pretzels, white mocha Ghiradelli hot chocolate, and for good measure, almond macadamia nut cookies and butter flavored cookies made with rich creamy butter. Perhaps there is a hidden clause wherein he gets all of our money if he kills me off. Should have read the fine print.

Our son visited us over the holidays and we enjoyed spending time with him. However, I should have known there would be trouble when he said he would eat anything I served, except potato, yeast bread, red meat or chicken. And, by the way, did I have any soy milk, flax seed, and berries? While he would eat fish, he didn't really want salmon because that was all he had had for the last few days. Coming up with meals was going to be a challenge especially since he knocked salmon out of the running. Salmon is my favorite fish as it's easy, delicious, usually fresh and available. The remaining fish at the store are either exorbitantly expensive, endangered, or smelly and old. At least he would eat vegetables and salad and told me to go ahead and make anything I wanted for the rest of us. I really did want to make him happy. What good mother wouldn't want to please her son when he was good enough to drive 8 hours to visit?

When he was a baby, I made all of his baby food from scratch. Nothing from a jar for him. I cooked liver (it used to be considered good for you), steamed vegetables without salt (too much salt in the processed jars back then), and pureed everything in a gizmo similar to a food mill as the home cooks didn't have food processors. So, what had changed? If I was willing to cook only the healthiest foods for my baby, why not for my 34-year old? Was it because he had rejected my healthy food when he was old enough to make his own decisions around age 10? Now here he was, coming back into the fold, and I was rejecting his healthy food. Perhaps it's because my own healthy eating habits had slipped a tad and I wasn't ready to change.

He looked great and was full of energy all day. If anything or anyone was going to change my eating habits and spur me on to lose weight, he was it! Every morning the blender would come out and he would concoct a shake of soy milk, berries, some type of oil from the health food store, flax seed, and whey protein. For lunch he would have a veggie burger over mixed greens. Dinner was a variety of cooked greens such as Swiss chard or kale, another vegetable, a huge salad and the occasional piece of fish. Not only did he eat well, he exercised.

The first time we went to the gym together I was finishing up after my half hour of walking and he asked, "Done so soon?" Chagrined, I stayed another 30 minutes. But, hey, he is used to exercising. Back home he gets up at 5:00 a.m. every morning to lead a boot camp class outdoors. I think I'm exercising by getting out of bed at 7:30 and driving my cart around the golf course.

So far I have dropped four pounds. I'm taking the remainder of the gift basket items to the home where mom lives. Though I'm not yet ready for whey protein, there are more vegetables on our plates, I'm hooked on veggie burgers, and I'm visiting the gym more often. I take pride in knowing that what I taught my son years ago he is now teaching me.

A Challenging Day

Mom was not in the best of shape today. Sitting in front of the tv in her room she was pointing to the set and moaning, oh no, lord help me, oh no. I couldn't get her to calm down no matter what I did. I turned off the tv as she was upset about the people on there and what they were saying. I had hoped turning it off would solve the problem but she continued to wave at the bookcase where she has framed photographs and recently received birthday and Christmas cards. It is so difficult to determine what she is upset about. I thought she was pointing to a specific picture (which was her mother) so I told her that was her mother and not anything to worry about. She surprised me and said, "No, my mother is dead." Often she thinks her mother is either alive or me or my sister.

A change of scenery often works so I took her outside of the building for a wheelchair walk. Unfortunately, there were three gardeners blowing leaves and dust everywhere. I had forgotten to put the foot rests on the chair so she had to keep her feet raised which she can't do indefinitely. It was slow going. We got out of range of the dust and noise but then the sun went in and she got cold. Still moaning and "oh no'ing" about who knows what. After continually reassuring her that all of the family members were o.k., she said, "Well, I'm not o.k.."

I searched for conversation that would either draw her out, entertain her, or redirect her to a more pleasant place. As always, I discussed my golf game. After all, who else would listen? Then I made a mistake and asked her if she remembered playing golf with dad when they lived in Bradenton. I know better than to ask an Alzheimer's person if they remember something but it just slipped out. Sadly, she said, "That's the problem, I really can't remember if I ever played golf or not." Such a cruel disease.

Dinner was more successful. Many of her favorite's were on the plate so she ate heartily. She was concerned that she wasn't doing it right. I convinced her that she was eating just fine and that is how everyone eats their dinner. She continued to say, "No, oh no" and I finally asked her could she please stop moaning. She looked directly at me and said, "I thought I had stopped doing that." Finally, with much of my chatter about her grandchildren and great grandchildren, she calmed down and appeared to be "o.k.." Looking to leave on a good note, I quickly exited as she was enjoying her peach cobbler. Some days are harder than others but each day with her is still a gift.

Seems like yesterday

Thirty-two years ago I was in the hospital giving birth to our wonderful daughter. She was a joy then and is still a joy today. Happy Birthday!

Another Chocolate Shake

Just returned from a ride with mom. First stop was Checkers (again) to get her a chocolate milk shake. She was most appreciative and said it was the best thing she has ever had. Although I made sure she had been toileted before we left her place, shortly into our ride she said she had to go. That meant the ride would be over and we had barely started. I asked her if she could wait a little bit and she agreed. I decided to do some of my errands while giving her a view of the outside world. She must have forgotten about the bathroom as it was never mentioned again. She sat in the car while I popped into various places. Got the tee time for Wednesday, went to the bank and post office. Then I remembered the old Mitch Miller tape we had in the car and turned it on. She immediately began singing all of the old-time songs with gusto...even leading the band with her arms. She was so happy and surprised that we suddenly had this music. "Where did it come from?" After telling her it was a tape I put in just for her to enjoy, she said it must be her birthday present. She was having such a good time I just drove around and around the nearby back roads and empty parking lots, both of us singing at the top of our lungs. I didn't want to get too far away from her residence in case she remembered that she had to go.

Mom kept trying to explain something to me and I did my usual guessing, almost always wrong. She kept talking about "she". "Does she ever see all of this? Does she come here?" I finally guessed right that "she" was my sister. Mom said, "I'll bet you know her real well and like her." After reassuring her that indeed I did, she remarked in an unusual moment of clarity, "I think I got gypped. No sister or brother for me and that was a mistake."

The caregiver suggested I return her near 4:00 in time for her medicines. That is a busy, busy time though and nobody let us in for about 15 more minutes. So, we sat in the car and sang some more until the aid came and got her out of the car. She went off happily, still humming one of the tunes and said it was the most wonderful time. Who knows what we will get tomorrow? At least today was a good one and for that I'm grateful.

Frittered away the morning

I woke up early today with visions of great accomplishments. I would write my blog, exercise, finish up the laundry (still lots of sheets to wash after using them outside to cover the shrubs), pay bills, and get over to visit mom before lunch. It's almost noon and I'm still in my nightgown and nothing has been done. Writing a blog is taking up a lot of my spare time. Now that I know I will be writing something, my mind is filled with swirling, random thoughts. I had so many ideas of things to write about that I couldn't write anything. Instead, I spent several hours looking over this site, changing my settings, trying out various templates, etc. My husband just returned from his round of golf and announced he got his first hole in one! Now I'm all a-twitter about that and can't think straight. At least my husband accomplished something.

Something Good About The Cold

It's still cold out today by Florida standards but better than yesterday. As I ride around town it's odd to see all the sheets and towels covering the shrubs in an attempt to save them from the frost. The newspaper says it takes three days for the bushes to show signs of damage but our Mexican Petunia is showing an early demise. We just planted five new shrubs last week so I hope they make it.

There is one good thing about this cold weather. The place where mom lives had to turn on the heat. It is usually so freezing cold in the dining room that I try to shield her food from the downward blast of arctic air coming from the ceiling vents. I literally hold my hands over the vegetables in between bites. I've made many, many complaints to management that they keep the temperature too cold but there has been little improvement. So tonight, since they had the heat on, I actually took off my sweater and one of mom's layers as well. Ironically, her soup was too hot tonight so she had to blow on each spoonful. Unfortunately, she shook so much that by the time she got it cool enough to eat, it had all fallen off the spoon onto either the table or her lap. Each time she took a spoonful of soup I grabbed the cup and held it under the wavering spoon. This was one time when the arctic air would have been welcome.

Meal time can be, for lack of a better word, entertaining. Usually there is very little conversation. In fact, the resident mom sits with does not ever speak as she has lost that ability. She has a pleasant countenance, though, and isn't a bad choice for a dinner partner. I'm pretty sure they seat her with mom because there are times when mom moans, or calls out, "help me, please, oh please". It doesn't appear to bother "J". There are times when mom tries to carry on a conversation with her but, of course, gets no response. Mom waves her spoon and talks louder until I intervene and remind mom that "J" doesn't talk. "J" is a wanderer and has trouble sitting still. She is up from the table at least five times or more causing the caregiver to continually rein her back in. She usually manages to spill her water or cranberry juice, causing me to leap up to avoid the flood coming my way. At another table are four women with varying degrees of dementia. Tonight one of them kept giving her dinner to another resident and the caregivers had to continually tell her that she didn't need to share her dinner as everyone had food. The other one got angry and refused to eat. Fortunately for my sister and me, mom loves to eat and isn't picky. She gets right down to business and shovels in the soup (except for tonight because it was too hot). I am not there for every meal so I don't know if mom eats when she is not aided by my sister or me. Often she can't see the food on the plate and I continually redirect the utensil to help her get the food from the plate to her fork, or back from the placemat onto her plate. I figure if she has lived to 92, she isn't likely to die from a little bacteria on the placemat. It's a risk I'm willing to take. Dessert is the highlight of my mother's life. She truly lives for it. If they took all desserts away tomorrow, she would go screaming into the night and that would be it for her. Perhaps that is why she eats so well. She knows the reward is at the end of the meal. A few months ago before the "home" got a new chef, there were problems with the quantity of desserts. One pie for 14 people just didn't do it. The caregivers told me (begged me) to complain to management as they knew their remarks meant nothing. I called the vice president of the corporation and put in my suggestions. Shortly thereafter, there was a new cook and plenty of pie. The squeaky wheel gets the oil!

My husband and I are braving the cold (50 degrees) and going out for pizza. Our self-imposed diet has lasted two days and we are ready for our reward.

Too Cold for Golf?

To all the northerners who are sick of Floridians gloating over our good weather, today is your day for revenge. It was 44 degrees and windy today and expected to get even colder tomorrow. Since the weather is usually perfect, the prevailing opinion of my golfing partners was to wait for the good weather to return before playing again. After all, they said, it's not like we live up north and never get to play. We can play all the time in beautiful weather so why play when it's cold and nasty. There is a certain logic to their thinking. They are all better golfers than I am, have lived here longer and played more golf so they don't see a need to get a chill in order to test their skills on a cold day. However, I really wanted to play golf today. You see, yesterday, with a slight hangover and extreme fatigue from dancing and ringing in the New Year the night before, I broke 100 for the third time in my life! Imagine what I could do today all rested and healthy. All last night I was thinking about my game, how I played different shots, where I could have improved and if only I had done this or that, how my score would have been even lower. Apparently, I need to play golf with people who are only interested in me and my score. They may be difficult to find.

After golf yesterday I was able to brag about my score to my biggest fan. My mother. Even with her diminishing capacity for speech, she was able to give me a big smile and even told me how wonderful it was that I broke 100. She shared my joy and was proud of me. No matter how old I get, I still love approval from this terrific woman. Too bad she doesn't play golf anymore. I'll bet she would have played with me today, even in the cold.

Happy New Year

2008. It seems so odd to write 2008 after a year of writing 2007. It's a small change, though, compared to the bigger changes life has brought. A year ago mom was still able to walk, make fairly coherent sentences, and lived rather happily in a less restricted independent living facility. One bad fall and broken hip later and she was in a wheelchair living in an Alzheimer's facility.

We have had to make tremendous adjustments in our expectations. Before, it was a good day if mom didn't call on the phone and beg us to come and get her so she would have something to do. Now, it's a good day if she doesn't wail or call out, "Oh God, help me, help me". Any meaningful conversation is a thing of the past. While she does have moments of clarity, usually she speaks in a jumbled conglomeration of words. We know that we shouldn't upset her so we often agree with her, no matter what she says. Sometimes, we guess wrong and she becomes alarmed. "What? You don't think so?" Then we scramble for the right answer, "oh, I mean yes, definitely". I have never lied so much in my life. The best times are when we witness her saying something that makes sense. She can be so funny. Recently, on her 92nd birthday we put the cake in front of her and told her to make a wish. She was struggling to come up with something. I remember telling her to "make a wish, make a wish before the candles burn out". I told her to wish for something just for herself and not waste her wish on world peace as someone else could worry about that. After much thought, she finally said , " I wish the ice cream would hurry up and get here!"