Other than my sister, I don't know anyone but me who reads a cookbook in bed. We both love food, cooking, the whole process of creating something from raw or basic ingredients. It's an opportunity to be original or not but at the very least, it's playing with food. It's a new recipe we haven't tried before or an old favorite. Did I mention we love food? Our conversations center on food or mom, depending on our mood. Sometimes after we discuss mom and her various problems,we find comfort describing a recipe we've tried or want to try. Cooking is a distraction. You can't very well be worrying or thinking about something else when chopping or slicing unless you don't mind losing a digit. If your mind wanders to anything else, you are likely to skip an ingredient or do something wrong. If you begin to think about mom's latest skin tear or falling incident in the middle of cooking, you are guaranteed a mistake of some variety. We push the problems of the day aside and concentrate on the recipe at hand.
When we plan on having mom over to dinner, it's a week-long chat about what to serve. Naturally, we want to give mom some of her favorites so we take that into consideration when planning the menu. We also have to time the whole meal to avoid mom's worst time of the day. Sun downing, they call it. It's the end of the day when the sun goes down. The diminishing daylight seems to negatively affect people with Alzheimer's. We try to pick her up following her afternoon nap yet before it gets too late. We often scramble to keep mom happy when the potatoes Anna casserole or the like is still cooking. As much as we enjoy cooking, we don't have it down to a perfect science and often miscalculate the cooking times. This is when my husband, Dave, comes into play. He teases mom and makes her laugh. Sis and I have another glass of wine to ease the anxiety we are feeling while mom moans or starts in with her "Oh no-ing".
We produce our masterpiece-of-a-dinner and give and receive praise from each other and the others at the table. Usually mom eats heartily as it is at least an hour later than her usual meal time. Her mood improves, as does ours, and we eagerly anticipate our dessert; something we have only because mom wants it. At least that's what we tell ourselves.
After dinner we either do an hour of karaoke singing which mom enjoys or quickly get her back into the car depending on her level of comfort. Mom is always very, very appreciative of the "outing" and tells us over and over again how kind we are. Sis and I are generally tired from a long day of cooking and anxiety over mom's behavior. However, the next day, refreshed from a good night's sleep, we often rehash the dinner. We comment that this needed more salt while that was an amazing taste sensation and so on. Our love of cooking has once again brought the two of us closer together while also providing joy for mom.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Doing the Best I can
It's so frustrating to be in New Jersey while mom is in Florida. My sister is doing a yeoman's job visiting her almost every day so I know, intellectually, that mom is fine. Emotionally, however, I feel guilty for not being there. I've been trying to keep in contact with mom to give her some small joy via the phone and to make sure she doesn't forget me, but it hasn't been easy. I can't call an hour before, during, or after a meal because the aides are busy either giving medications or serving or cleaning up after a meal. When I call after the meal is over, mom is already having a nap. It's been difficult to coordinate the calls with our schedule and hers.
Tonight I finally got through to her. It was after her dinner, around 5:40 or so. I suggested to Dee, the aide, to put the phone to mom's only good ear...the one with the only remaining hearing aid...and to remove the hearing aid. Now I'm stricken with thoughts that I should call back and be sure they put it back in before it, too, gets lost. No wonder I have belly fat. They say stress is the cause and I've had my share. Anyway, I also mentioned to Dee to keep an eye on mom as sometimes she either can't hear as the phone has slipped or we are finished with our conversation and mom doesn't know how to turn off the phone...thus keeping me captive for a long, long time listening to mom saying "No, no, no, no, no, no" until they come to the rescue and take the phone away after we have said our tenth goodbye. Not that I mind spending the time talking with her but when the conversation diminishes to very loud, desperate "Oh no, no, no", it's best to end it before she becomes more agitated.
The call went swimmingly at first. Mom could hear and she was delighted to hear my voice as I was hers. As always, I struggled for conversation topics to which she could relate. I asked her if she had enjoyed a good dinner. After all, it was only 20 minutes at most since her last bite so I figured it was a good conversation opener. She said, "I haven't had a bite to eat". Having been there before I didn't try to convince her that she indeed had eaten her dinner. I said I hoped she would enjoy whatever they gave her later.
I told her I was enjoying my new favorite cocktail, an Appletini. She struggled with this information for awhile but was determined to get it straight. She finally did repeat it correctly and said she wished she could be with me having a cocktail right now. I hesitated to explain that it was a type of Martini fearing she would launch into her long-standing position that she never liked it when Dan, her husband, had a martini. However, she listened to the description and didn't get upset. In fact, she said it sounded delicious!
I told her Dave (my husband, her favorite) was at the grocery store buying chili powder for the chili I was making. She said, "Well, you have to have chili powder to make a good chili." Again, she said it sounded delicious. I think the next time I have her over to the house I'll make her chili for dinner. She prides herself on not being a fussy eater. I complimented her and said she raised us all up right as none of us are fussy eaters either. Well, my brother is fussy when you think about it. The rest of us eat everything. Where he came from, we're not sure. Anyway, we congratulated ourselves on our appreciation of all food and drink.
I told her she was a very good mother. She said, "I'm not so sure." I convinced her that she was as I had a very good childhood. This took about 5 minutes of repeating and explaining but she finally got it and was happy that I thought so. I realize that with each call or visit it may be the last opportunity I have to tell her how wonderful she is. I don't want regrets after she is gone. I don't want thoughts or words to remain unspoken. I want her to know that I love her so I tell her often. She usually tells me the same in return. Funny thing is, I don't think we spoke verbally of our love for each other until this last year. My parents were loving in their actions but not in their spoken words per se. They told us we were wonderful and perfect and a great joy in their lives but the actual words, "I love you" were not spoken. At least I don't remember it. I remember feeling a little awkward the first time I told her out loud. In the beginning she would say, "thank you". Now, she freely repeats her love for me and I treasure hearing it. Sometimes when I visit her and tell her my feelings she doesn't say anything. I find myself repeating it again and again until she responds. Sometimes I have to leave not hearing those beautiful words. They are in my heart though and I hear them there.
The phone call deteriorated as she became tired. I wanted to end it but the aide was nowhere in sight. Then I heard Marguerite saying to mom, "It's your daughter. Talk to your daughter." Mom said, "I'm not happy and want to go home and get out of this place." Here I am a thousand miles away and she says, "You caught me at a bad time as I am so unhappy." I tried to discern why she was unhappy but it was futile. She must have put the phone down on her lap as there was silence for a minute or two. Then Marguerite put the phone back up to her ear and she said, "Hello." I said, "Hi, mom, it's Nancy." "Oh, hi dear", she said. Like we hadn't spoken at all earlier. I was given an opportunity to make her happy all over again. So I did.
Tonight I finally got through to her. It was after her dinner, around 5:40 or so. I suggested to Dee, the aide, to put the phone to mom's only good ear...the one with the only remaining hearing aid...and to remove the hearing aid. Now I'm stricken with thoughts that I should call back and be sure they put it back in before it, too, gets lost. No wonder I have belly fat. They say stress is the cause and I've had my share. Anyway, I also mentioned to Dee to keep an eye on mom as sometimes she either can't hear as the phone has slipped or we are finished with our conversation and mom doesn't know how to turn off the phone...thus keeping me captive for a long, long time listening to mom saying "No, no, no, no, no, no" until they come to the rescue and take the phone away after we have said our tenth goodbye. Not that I mind spending the time talking with her but when the conversation diminishes to very loud, desperate "Oh no, no, no", it's best to end it before she becomes more agitated.
The call went swimmingly at first. Mom could hear and she was delighted to hear my voice as I was hers. As always, I struggled for conversation topics to which she could relate. I asked her if she had enjoyed a good dinner. After all, it was only 20 minutes at most since her last bite so I figured it was a good conversation opener. She said, "I haven't had a bite to eat". Having been there before I didn't try to convince her that she indeed had eaten her dinner. I said I hoped she would enjoy whatever they gave her later.
I told her I was enjoying my new favorite cocktail, an Appletini. She struggled with this information for awhile but was determined to get it straight. She finally did repeat it correctly and said she wished she could be with me having a cocktail right now. I hesitated to explain that it was a type of Martini fearing she would launch into her long-standing position that she never liked it when Dan, her husband, had a martini. However, she listened to the description and didn't get upset. In fact, she said it sounded delicious!
I told her Dave (my husband, her favorite) was at the grocery store buying chili powder for the chili I was making. She said, "Well, you have to have chili powder to make a good chili." Again, she said it sounded delicious. I think the next time I have her over to the house I'll make her chili for dinner. She prides herself on not being a fussy eater. I complimented her and said she raised us all up right as none of us are fussy eaters either. Well, my brother is fussy when you think about it. The rest of us eat everything. Where he came from, we're not sure. Anyway, we congratulated ourselves on our appreciation of all food and drink.
I told her she was a very good mother. She said, "I'm not so sure." I convinced her that she was as I had a very good childhood. This took about 5 minutes of repeating and explaining but she finally got it and was happy that I thought so. I realize that with each call or visit it may be the last opportunity I have to tell her how wonderful she is. I don't want regrets after she is gone. I don't want thoughts or words to remain unspoken. I want her to know that I love her so I tell her often. She usually tells me the same in return. Funny thing is, I don't think we spoke verbally of our love for each other until this last year. My parents were loving in their actions but not in their spoken words per se. They told us we were wonderful and perfect and a great joy in their lives but the actual words, "I love you" were not spoken. At least I don't remember it. I remember feeling a little awkward the first time I told her out loud. In the beginning she would say, "thank you". Now, she freely repeats her love for me and I treasure hearing it. Sometimes when I visit her and tell her my feelings she doesn't say anything. I find myself repeating it again and again until she responds. Sometimes I have to leave not hearing those beautiful words. They are in my heart though and I hear them there.
The phone call deteriorated as she became tired. I wanted to end it but the aide was nowhere in sight. Then I heard Marguerite saying to mom, "It's your daughter. Talk to your daughter." Mom said, "I'm not happy and want to go home and get out of this place." Here I am a thousand miles away and she says, "You caught me at a bad time as I am so unhappy." I tried to discern why she was unhappy but it was futile. She must have put the phone down on her lap as there was silence for a minute or two. Then Marguerite put the phone back up to her ear and she said, "Hello." I said, "Hi, mom, it's Nancy." "Oh, hi dear", she said. Like we hadn't spoken at all earlier. I was given an opportunity to make her happy all over again. So I did.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Should I Write to you, George?
We are good Americans. While many people used their economic stimulus check to pay off bills, we spent all of ours to help boost the economy. Last week I tried to make Oprah proud and now George Bush should be proud.
After three days of driving and $192 in gas (no thanks for that, George) we arrived at our summer place at the Jersey shore. We had been warned of a bad storm that occurred a month ago so we were somewhat prepared for the worst. We opened the door and found water in the garage and mud all over the interior floor of the first level. That level of the house is used for some storage and to house the furnace and water heater. We've spent days mopping, bleaching, and drying the walls and floor and anything we had stored. A few things were salvageable, but most went directly to the dump. Actually, most of those things belonged at the dump anyway as they were left over garage sale items that didn't sell. The extra "basement" refrigerator was ruined. At the shore you absolutely need a place to store extra liquid refreshments for all of your guests. So, we purchased a new one. (Thanks George.) Today we replaced the beach chairs, bought paint for the walls and new carpet for the floor. (Thanks George.) My husband's Corvette was in the garage and we're pretty sure it is ruined. That won't be replaced. (Not enough cash, George.) As luck would have it, our dishwasher broke yesterday. That was purely a coincidence and had nothing to do with the flood as it is located on the third floor. However, we still had to buy a new one. (Thanks George.) I've been washing dishes by hand for days and it's not fun. The dishwasher can't be delivered for five more days! Tomorrow our first company of the season arrives. They have never been to our house and we want them to have a good time. I wonder how they will feel about washing their own dishes? Hope it doesn't ruin their fun.
While our flood is a costly inconvenience, it pales by comparison to the flooding problems in the mid-west. I know this really isn't a big deal in the scheme of things. I'm slightly embarrassed about whining but I had my eye on new golf clubs, not replacing damaged items. Sigh. We were good Americans and did as we were told with the stimulus check. We could have saved it, or invested it, or paid off bills, but we spent it. Do you think if I write George showing the receipts for practical purchases he will reward me with golf clubs? I guess he doesn't care whether the purchases were practical or frivolous as long as we stimulated the economy but I think sacrificial good behavior should be rewarded.
After three days of driving and $192 in gas (no thanks for that, George) we arrived at our summer place at the Jersey shore. We had been warned of a bad storm that occurred a month ago so we were somewhat prepared for the worst. We opened the door and found water in the garage and mud all over the interior floor of the first level. That level of the house is used for some storage and to house the furnace and water heater. We've spent days mopping, bleaching, and drying the walls and floor and anything we had stored. A few things were salvageable, but most went directly to the dump. Actually, most of those things belonged at the dump anyway as they were left over garage sale items that didn't sell. The extra "basement" refrigerator was ruined. At the shore you absolutely need a place to store extra liquid refreshments for all of your guests. So, we purchased a new one. (Thanks George.) Today we replaced the beach chairs, bought paint for the walls and new carpet for the floor. (Thanks George.) My husband's Corvette was in the garage and we're pretty sure it is ruined. That won't be replaced. (Not enough cash, George.) As luck would have it, our dishwasher broke yesterday. That was purely a coincidence and had nothing to do with the flood as it is located on the third floor. However, we still had to buy a new one. (Thanks George.) I've been washing dishes by hand for days and it's not fun. The dishwasher can't be delivered for five more days! Tomorrow our first company of the season arrives. They have never been to our house and we want them to have a good time. I wonder how they will feel about washing their own dishes? Hope it doesn't ruin their fun.
While our flood is a costly inconvenience, it pales by comparison to the flooding problems in the mid-west. I know this really isn't a big deal in the scheme of things. I'm slightly embarrassed about whining but I had my eye on new golf clubs, not replacing damaged items. Sigh. We were good Americans and did as we were told with the stimulus check. We could have saved it, or invested it, or paid off bills, but we spent it. Do you think if I write George showing the receipts for practical purchases he will reward me with golf clubs? I guess he doesn't care whether the purchases were practical or frivolous as long as we stimulated the economy but I think sacrificial good behavior should be rewarded.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Photos of Mom With Visiting Grandchildren & Great Grandchildren
Listening to her granddaughter.
It was difficult to engage mom in conversation or to get her involved in the beginning of the visit. She often looked off into space. They all tried to get her attention...she did a lot of listening at first but didn't talk much.
Duplicate (I can't figure out how to delete this one)
Mom loves to hold hands. Here her grandson is comforting her as she was quite anxious in the beginning of the visit.
Her granddaughter talking to mom and her great-grandson looking on.
Lots of "Oh No, No, No" at this point in the visit.
Here mom is becoming more alert and beginning to interact.
Surrounded by love.
Relaxing a bit.
Mom engaging in conversation and enjoying the girls.
Big laughs. A great visit after all.
Her granddaughter talking to mom and her great-grandson looking on.
Lots of "Oh No, No, No" at this point in the visit.
Here mom is becoming more alert and beginning to interact.
Surrounded by love.
Relaxing a bit.
Mom engaging in conversation and enjoying the girls.
Big laughs. A great visit after all.
I promised my niece and nephew I would e-mail them these pictures of their visit to mom a few months ago. I never did, so here they are for all the world to see.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Catch 22
Mom was sitting quietly in the dining room when I arrived yesterday. Before I greeted her, I noticed that Hope, the Hospice nurse, was in the office. I had been eager to speak with her regarding the bandages on mom's skin tears as I wasn't sure they had been changed in awhile. As the food had not been served, we took mom back to her room to check. Apparently they had recently been changed by Flora, the Hospice person who bathes mom. This is an important service of Hospice because the aides at the home can't change bandages and have to wait for the nurse to do it, if she even notices a need for it. Hope put new bandages on and we took mom back to the dining room.
Mom ate all of her dinner and fed herself very well, relatively speaking. Hope stopped by several times during dinner and was impressed that mom was doing so well. In fact, they had weighed mom and she gained three pounds so she now weighs 103. She is still very thin for a tall 5'9" woman but the weight gain is definitely progress. Hope finally pulled up a chair and said, "You know, she is really doing well. In fact, I hope she can stay on Hospice because they have strict guidelines in place. The person has to be deteriorating rather than improving in order to keep her on Hospice because the government pays for it. Since she has gained weight, that is a sign of improvement." She went on to say, "Everyone in the building would like to be on Hospice because of all the extra attention they receive." I must have looked aghast because she quickly said she thought mom would be able to stay on Hospice because of her advanced dementia. However, she wasn't completely sure and wanted to give me fair warning in case her superiors decided she needed to be dropped. We could always appeal, if need be, although there was no guarantee they would keep her. All I kept thinking quietly to myself was, "I'm so glad I didn't blather on about how coherent mom has been lately." That surely would have tipped the scales against her. Hah! I just realized that her weight gain also tipped the scales against her so to speak. But it's not funny. Sis and I both want mom to be on Hospice because we don't want any more hospital episodes. And, we do love the extra care and attention she gets. Hospice is there for mom and for the caregivers, i.e. Sis and me. Hospice is another advocate for mom. Hospice is wonderful. We need Hospice.
We want mom to be as healthy as she can be but if she improves, then one of her services will be removed. You can't win for losing! Sometimes it's just too much to deal with. Guess I'll be like Scarlett O'Hara and say, "I won't think about this now. I'll think about this tomorrow."
Mom ate all of her dinner and fed herself very well, relatively speaking. Hope stopped by several times during dinner and was impressed that mom was doing so well. In fact, they had weighed mom and she gained three pounds so she now weighs 103. She is still very thin for a tall 5'9" woman but the weight gain is definitely progress. Hope finally pulled up a chair and said, "You know, she is really doing well. In fact, I hope she can stay on Hospice because they have strict guidelines in place. The person has to be deteriorating rather than improving in order to keep her on Hospice because the government pays for it. Since she has gained weight, that is a sign of improvement." She went on to say, "Everyone in the building would like to be on Hospice because of all the extra attention they receive." I must have looked aghast because she quickly said she thought mom would be able to stay on Hospice because of her advanced dementia. However, she wasn't completely sure and wanted to give me fair warning in case her superiors decided she needed to be dropped. We could always appeal, if need be, although there was no guarantee they would keep her. All I kept thinking quietly to myself was, "I'm so glad I didn't blather on about how coherent mom has been lately." That surely would have tipped the scales against her. Hah! I just realized that her weight gain also tipped the scales against her so to speak. But it's not funny. Sis and I both want mom to be on Hospice because we don't want any more hospital episodes. And, we do love the extra care and attention she gets. Hospice is there for mom and for the caregivers, i.e. Sis and me. Hospice is another advocate for mom. Hospice is wonderful. We need Hospice.
We want mom to be as healthy as she can be but if she improves, then one of her services will be removed. You can't win for losing! Sometimes it's just too much to deal with. Guess I'll be like Scarlett O'Hara and say, "I won't think about this now. I'll think about this tomorrow."
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