Fight seems like such a strange word in the beginning of a year - is it a fight we need to let go of? A will to fight the good fight? A opportunity to get something off your chest about a fight...a fight I may be fighting alone - without the other person even knowing there IS a fight? how about the fight to keep a NY Resolution? That's a good one - at least it seems good considering the number of people in "my" pool this morning...only one of which I recognized. Truthfully, I am proud of the fight they are fighting and hope they become regulars and it becomes "our" pool - just like it did for me last year!
On this venue, however, fight takes on the blush of ALZ - as does everything in my life these days. I fight daily with my patience (or lack thereof), I fight daily to be grateful and to recognize the beautiful opportunity I have been given to take care of my mother in this terrible time. I fight hourly to stay open to God's lessons for me. To let go and know that He's got it!
I watch mom fight to recognize her surroundings, the season, the faces, the daily routines that are becoming less routine and more of a task. I fight back tears and wonder how I come from her - when I realize that I have never seen her cry - no fighting back the tears for my mom. I am guessing that's why her fight is different than my fight will be - she is fighting to not need anyone - I need people. I need family...and I guess because I come from her, I have fought my whole life to be okay with that.
Today I will fight to be kind, patient, to answer the same 3 or 4 questions over and over with a smile and with enthusiasm. And I will hope that doctors and researchers are fighting to end this horrible disease before it's too late for me and my daughter.
...okay, my 5 minutes is up and that was so strange and wonderful - I hope to add this to my weekly routine. But talk about FIGHT - I wanted to go back and edit or change or take things out or clarify... but I am, after all, a rule-follower and know that I came upon this challenge for a reason. Salute to all you weekly posters and challenge-takers. You are fabulous.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Christmas for Mom
Christmas seems like one of those things that are big enough to work in the ALZ world. Big enough to remember. Celebrated from birth by my mom - so that should still be in her wheelhouse, right?
Not so fast there bub! Christmas is almost too big. It's so confusing - some times of the day mom is 12, sometimes she's 17, sometimes she's 82, sometimes she's 40 - and all of those ages come with something. Something that was missing at our home.
She spent most of the day in her younger years and that meant Grandma Perry coming to pick her up. She kept asking and it broke my heart. How do you tell someone that their loved one has been gone for 50+ years? Especially on Christmas. The older years meant that she was still independent - she had sent me money and was off to "do her own thing" with her peers. We don't have any of those here. The 40 year old Christmas only appeared once. I think she thought my daughter was me - we were handing out presents and Peyton was sitting closest to mom, so she gave her all of her gifts from under the tree. It was the kindest I've ever seen mom act towards her granddaughter. Her smile was genuine and she seemed to feel like she was a part of our family. It was pretty awesome!
The gifts were a bust. Not at first - she loved them all, but then they were unwrapped and taken back into her room and "where did these come from" became the favorite question of the day. She devoured the chocolate and other candy in her stocking, but the other gifts are stacked in her chair - and she is quite suspicious of them and their origin.
I fancied myself brilliant with a Shutterfly book of memories from mom's first year here - with our faces, our places, our names, charmingly-worded explanations that might help her remember things and lots of pictures of her and Sophie - her two favorite things. She loved it. She took her time, she read every page, she smiled and then she wrapped it back up in the wrapping paper and took it to her room and set it down with the other things.
I keep trying to slip it into the basket of her walker - thinking she will start to think it "belongs" in there and will look at it often and it will help her or entertain her or comfort her or be a companion of sorts.
I'm not giving up, mind you, but my goodness, this is a bigger task than I imagined. She has a mind of her own and she DOES NOT WANT to have Alzheimer's. She has been fighting it by ignoring it and lying about it and punching it in the face for as long as I can remember - easily a dozen years. Maybe this little memory book is too much of a reminder of what she doesn't remember.
I think that's the problem with Christmas...she is sad, mad, angry, frustrated, embarrassed that she can't remember if Christmas has come or gone or what year it is or did she go shopping or ... well, so many things. So Christmas was something to ignore, brush off, discount, be disgusted with.
I am torn. I love our home at Christmas. I love the decorations and the way everything looks in twinkly lights. The kids love it too. I am raising a couple of big Christmas nerds, just like their mother! But I will breathe a sigh of relief when I get to put it all away. And mom won't know it's gone or that it was ever there, but she will be just a little bit happier and a little bit more at ease, even though she won't know why.
Not so fast there bub! Christmas is almost too big. It's so confusing - some times of the day mom is 12, sometimes she's 17, sometimes she's 82, sometimes she's 40 - and all of those ages come with something. Something that was missing at our home.
She spent most of the day in her younger years and that meant Grandma Perry coming to pick her up. She kept asking and it broke my heart. How do you tell someone that their loved one has been gone for 50+ years? Especially on Christmas. The older years meant that she was still independent - she had sent me money and was off to "do her own thing" with her peers. We don't have any of those here. The 40 year old Christmas only appeared once. I think she thought my daughter was me - we were handing out presents and Peyton was sitting closest to mom, so she gave her all of her gifts from under the tree. It was the kindest I've ever seen mom act towards her granddaughter. Her smile was genuine and she seemed to feel like she was a part of our family. It was pretty awesome!
The gifts were a bust. Not at first - she loved them all, but then they were unwrapped and taken back into her room and "where did these come from" became the favorite question of the day. She devoured the chocolate and other candy in her stocking, but the other gifts are stacked in her chair - and she is quite suspicious of them and their origin.
I fancied myself brilliant with a Shutterfly book of memories from mom's first year here - with our faces, our places, our names, charmingly-worded explanations that might help her remember things and lots of pictures of her and Sophie - her two favorite things. She loved it. She took her time, she read every page, she smiled and then she wrapped it back up in the wrapping paper and took it to her room and set it down with the other things.
I keep trying to slip it into the basket of her walker - thinking she will start to think it "belongs" in there and will look at it often and it will help her or entertain her or comfort her or be a companion of sorts.
I'm not giving up, mind you, but my goodness, this is a bigger task than I imagined. She has a mind of her own and she DOES NOT WANT to have Alzheimer's. She has been fighting it by ignoring it and lying about it and punching it in the face for as long as I can remember - easily a dozen years. Maybe this little memory book is too much of a reminder of what she doesn't remember.
I think that's the problem with Christmas...she is sad, mad, angry, frustrated, embarrassed that she can't remember if Christmas has come or gone or what year it is or did she go shopping or ... well, so many things. So Christmas was something to ignore, brush off, discount, be disgusted with.
I am torn. I love our home at Christmas. I love the decorations and the way everything looks in twinkly lights. The kids love it too. I am raising a couple of big Christmas nerds, just like their mother! But I will breathe a sigh of relief when I get to put it all away. And mom won't know it's gone or that it was ever there, but she will be just a little bit happier and a little bit more at ease, even though she won't know why.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Where do Christmas Memories go?
Of all things - a quick dusting of my mantel reminded me how cruel Alzheimer's is. I love Christmas - not really the gifts - that's my least favorite part. But I love the rest of it...the season, the awe of the birth of Christ, the lights, the wonder, the decorations, the traditions, the music, the colder weather, the cookies, the treats, the Peppermint shakes, the smiles for no reason, the stories, the memories - and even the shopping for and wrapping of gifts. I even managed to enjoy the ridiculous traffic around the mall yesterday!
Probably my all-time favorite thing is the memories that nearly all of my ornaments and decorations bring back. I love unpacking the boxes. I love positioning the ornaments that have the best 'stories' or have the most history in prime spots on my tree. I make the kids listen to the stories - hoping to give them their own memories to make their Christmases more magical.
I have a decoration that I made in the basement of Lima First United Methodist Church in Sunday School for my mom when I was 4 or 5 years old. It's so ugly it's sweet - like some of those dogs you see on tv! It's barely holding together. It's simple and made from an old wooden spool, some tin foil, a green pipe cleaner and red construction paper. It's supposed to be a poinsettia. It has a really old-fashioned cardboard gift tag (probably some that were so awful they were donated to the church by someone who bought something cuter!) with my name written in pencil! And I remember every single Christmas that my mom put it out on our piano from the time I was about 12. I hated that thing - it was so ugly! I didn't understand why she kept it. My mom was famous for getting rid of old things - she never kept clothes from her youth, we had no antiques in our house, she was Goodwill's best friend - no chance of Peg ending up on Hoarders! But she kept that old, frail, simple decoration and she put it out with the best, shiniest, newest decorations every single year.
I get it now. I have an entire tree in our bedroom dedicated to handmade ornaments - some made by me, some by my friends, but most made by my kids in their classrooms or at our kitchen table. I love all of them. I look at the dates and the kids names on the back or their pictures on the front and my heart fills all the way up with love and Christmas.
I have the old poinsettia on my mantle this year - it's place of honor since I was able to rescue mom's Christmas decorations from the basement in Shawnee after her husband passed.
I put it in her hands this year - hopeful of a memory for us to share. Nothing. She smiled - she likes Christmas too and she likes to be included in anything we do. But no memory. No flashback. No magical Christmas moment for me and mom. I'm the keeper of that memory now. I am passing it down to my kids and when the time comes I hope one of them will be enough like me that the only thing they will really want after I am gone is a big red box of handmade ornaments wrapped in tissue paper with names and years and faded photos. And they will open it up every year, the Friday after Thanksgiving, and tell their kids stories of Christmases when they were kids and maybe tell them how much I loved Christmas ... as they put the poinsettia in a place of honor on their mantel.
Probably my all-time favorite thing is the memories that nearly all of my ornaments and decorations bring back. I love unpacking the boxes. I love positioning the ornaments that have the best 'stories' or have the most history in prime spots on my tree. I make the kids listen to the stories - hoping to give them their own memories to make their Christmases more magical.
I have a decoration that I made in the basement of Lima First United Methodist Church in Sunday School for my mom when I was 4 or 5 years old. It's so ugly it's sweet - like some of those dogs you see on tv! It's barely holding together. It's simple and made from an old wooden spool, some tin foil, a green pipe cleaner and red construction paper. It's supposed to be a poinsettia. It has a really old-fashioned cardboard gift tag (probably some that were so awful they were donated to the church by someone who bought something cuter!) with my name written in pencil! And I remember every single Christmas that my mom put it out on our piano from the time I was about 12. I hated that thing - it was so ugly! I didn't understand why she kept it. My mom was famous for getting rid of old things - she never kept clothes from her youth, we had no antiques in our house, she was Goodwill's best friend - no chance of Peg ending up on Hoarders! But she kept that old, frail, simple decoration and she put it out with the best, shiniest, newest decorations every single year.
I get it now. I have an entire tree in our bedroom dedicated to handmade ornaments - some made by me, some by my friends, but most made by my kids in their classrooms or at our kitchen table. I love all of them. I look at the dates and the kids names on the back or their pictures on the front and my heart fills all the way up with love and Christmas.
I have the old poinsettia on my mantle this year - it's place of honor since I was able to rescue mom's Christmas decorations from the basement in Shawnee after her husband passed.
I put it in her hands this year - hopeful of a memory for us to share. Nothing. She smiled - she likes Christmas too and she likes to be included in anything we do. But no memory. No flashback. No magical Christmas moment for me and mom. I'm the keeper of that memory now. I am passing it down to my kids and when the time comes I hope one of them will be enough like me that the only thing they will really want after I am gone is a big red box of handmade ornaments wrapped in tissue paper with names and years and faded photos. And they will open it up every year, the Friday after Thanksgiving, and tell their kids stories of Christmases when they were kids and maybe tell them how much I loved Christmas ... as they put the poinsettia in a place of honor on their mantel.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Seemed like a good idea at the time...
So, in an effort to make everyone feel like this home is their home - in other words - to give everyone a chance to do what they want in a place they are comfortable without all of us stacked on top of one another, we moved mom's tv into the red room.
Let me preface the story with another story...back in mid-to-late-September, mom got bothered by the green light on the wireless modem that controls her cable and couldn't be quieted down. She had convinced herself that it was going to set her room on fire in the middle of the night, so we ended up unplugging her tv....in MID-TO-LATE SEPTEMBER (aka 90 days ago!!!).
I brought up the idea of moving her tv into the red room, where she loves to sit and look out our front window. Mom finds the strangers and cars on our street much more interesting than our family playing in the back yard...sigh... I thought this would be a way to allow the kids some time to watch their shows and play video games in our family room and still allow mom to keep her routine. Seemed like the day we put up her Christmas tree would be the perfect day since we had to move things around and clean anyway.
I have never been more wrong. She was pissed! She was confused (which I expected), she was bothered (which I also expected) and she was pissed! She brought out some unpleasant faces, words, comments, body language and attitude to show her displeasure. We lasted 3 days. It ended badly for mom and for me. It made my husband mad, it entertained the kids. She was so mad that she even decided that we were punishing her by putting a Christmas tree in her room. It's upstairs in my hallway now and it's beautiful. I remember how much she used to love her tree. Love is not a factor for mom anymore. Pleasure and joy are off the table. She just wants to be right and to argue til she has alienated herself from everyone else. It's heartbreaking and sadly, it is sometimes hard to remember that this is one of those "that's just how it is" things and it does no good to be angry or frustrated. It is what it is.
Anyway, the tv is back in it's place and for now, it's plugged in. She actually went in there and watched the Today show this morning so my family and I could watch a show just the 4 of us. It was unpleasant getting it arranged, but after she got mad, made every effort to portray herself as the victim and me as the villain, after I used up all the patience I could muster and finally just walked out - we enjoyed a 30 minute show together. We layed all over our furniture with our jammies on and blankets and the dog and the volume only at 15 instead of 30 (which is starting to beat me down day after day). It was worth the effort.
I am assuming we are going to have to have more of these confrontations to get more of these family moments, but it really is worth it. You see, when your loved one has advanced Alzheimer's, you can't set rules, you can't leave notes, you can't use a white board, you can't have conversations, you can't reason and you can't expect them to be empathetic. You just have to decide that you are keeping them safe and out of a nursing home and that they aren't losing weight and you are sure they are taking their medications in the right doses and on time, they are cleaner, fresher, better cared for and loved. You have to remember that the past is lost - for both of you - and can never be fixed or apologized for or made right and the break through you dreamed of is just not going to happen. You have to remember how tough this must be on the people you love the most, that God is probably giving you a blessing that will change your lives for the better at some point here or in Heaven and that they are worth the fight. So she's going to get pissed, she's going to make you feel like a bad person - but I'm not. And she isn't suffering, she's sick.
But 30 minutes alone with my family is worth any fight and as with so many things with mom, she may start to think that's how it's "supposed" to be and she'll retreat into her space more often. I guess we'll wait and see.
Let me preface the story with another story...back in mid-to-late-September, mom got bothered by the green light on the wireless modem that controls her cable and couldn't be quieted down. She had convinced herself that it was going to set her room on fire in the middle of the night, so we ended up unplugging her tv....in MID-TO-LATE SEPTEMBER (aka 90 days ago!!!).
I brought up the idea of moving her tv into the red room, where she loves to sit and look out our front window. Mom finds the strangers and cars on our street much more interesting than our family playing in the back yard...sigh... I thought this would be a way to allow the kids some time to watch their shows and play video games in our family room and still allow mom to keep her routine. Seemed like the day we put up her Christmas tree would be the perfect day since we had to move things around and clean anyway.
I have never been more wrong. She was pissed! She was confused (which I expected), she was bothered (which I also expected) and she was pissed! She brought out some unpleasant faces, words, comments, body language and attitude to show her displeasure. We lasted 3 days. It ended badly for mom and for me. It made my husband mad, it entertained the kids. She was so mad that she even decided that we were punishing her by putting a Christmas tree in her room. It's upstairs in my hallway now and it's beautiful. I remember how much she used to love her tree. Love is not a factor for mom anymore. Pleasure and joy are off the table. She just wants to be right and to argue til she has alienated herself from everyone else. It's heartbreaking and sadly, it is sometimes hard to remember that this is one of those "that's just how it is" things and it does no good to be angry or frustrated. It is what it is.
Anyway, the tv is back in it's place and for now, it's plugged in. She actually went in there and watched the Today show this morning so my family and I could watch a show just the 4 of us. It was unpleasant getting it arranged, but after she got mad, made every effort to portray herself as the victim and me as the villain, after I used up all the patience I could muster and finally just walked out - we enjoyed a 30 minute show together. We layed all over our furniture with our jammies on and blankets and the dog and the volume only at 15 instead of 30 (which is starting to beat me down day after day). It was worth the effort.
I am assuming we are going to have to have more of these confrontations to get more of these family moments, but it really is worth it. You see, when your loved one has advanced Alzheimer's, you can't set rules, you can't leave notes, you can't use a white board, you can't have conversations, you can't reason and you can't expect them to be empathetic. You just have to decide that you are keeping them safe and out of a nursing home and that they aren't losing weight and you are sure they are taking their medications in the right doses and on time, they are cleaner, fresher, better cared for and loved. You have to remember that the past is lost - for both of you - and can never be fixed or apologized for or made right and the break through you dreamed of is just not going to happen. You have to remember how tough this must be on the people you love the most, that God is probably giving you a blessing that will change your lives for the better at some point here or in Heaven and that they are worth the fight. So she's going to get pissed, she's going to make you feel like a bad person - but I'm not. And she isn't suffering, she's sick.
But 30 minutes alone with my family is worth any fight and as with so many things with mom, she may start to think that's how it's "supposed" to be and she'll retreat into her space more often. I guess we'll wait and see.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Day 18
My intent is never to be cruel or to focus only on what is a struggle, but sometimes the stories I feel the need to tell are the stories that are based in a behavior that is really hard for me to deal with. Especially to LIVE with.
Mom's new thing is to start every day, not with a "Good Morning" or an observation on the weather or a question about what day it is...her new thing is to say something negative.
Obviously, I noticed it the first time it happened, but after 3, and then 4, days in a row of negative "openers", I began to count them. Today was Day 18....or should I say DAY EIGHTEEN?!
It's hard. It's especially hard on a Saturday when I know that I had to set an alarm to wake up before my family so mom can stay on her schedule. To have to make 2 breakfasts so mom can stay on her schedule. To eat with mom and not my family so mom can stay on her schedule. It's hard when the first words you hear are ugly.
Today's "opener" was "Why is it so cold in here? Don't they (always cracks me up - the reference to 'they' and 'them') ever turn on the heat?"
Our electric bill has jumped up an average of 36% since mom moved in. She requires a lot of light and noise. She does not have the ability to turn on the tv or the lights by herself, so if I have to run out or if I am going to be upstairs doing something with the kids, I set up all the rooms she likes to go in the way she likes them. I have never been so happy to see the weather turn cooler - no more AC (a nightmare to my electric bill!). I vowed I would not turn the heater on until the first frost if I can help it. I washed and gave mom my favorite red Martha Stewart blanket. Washed and hung out her coziest robes, slippers and nightgowns. Put a fire in the fireplace first thing in the morning so she has a place to be as warm as she wants...because that fireplace cranks out the heat in just 15 minutes!
Truth is - I would turn on the heat if it ever got remotely uncomfortable. I would be a bit grumpy about it, but I wouldn't let the kids or mom be cold so I could save $5.00. But it hasn't. I would have loved to open some windows and really bring the cool air in - I love to sleep that way. I think you get the very best sleep under a pile of blankets in a room filled with cool, fresh air.
My point is - it wasn't cold. I wouldn't even say it was cool. I wore short sleeves and a light shirt - it's in the 70's outside.
Some days she complains about her clothes. Some days she complains about the time. Lots of days she complains that I wasn't downstairs fast enough...usually after she has gotten up and gone back to bed 1 or 2 or 3 times. Some days she complains about something she had a dream about...that's a weird one to respond to. One day she complained that she was sleeping in someone else's room and why on earth would I do that to her?!
I have tried getting the first word in, but for some reason, even if I say the first good morning - she still chooses negative. It used to be when I called Sophie in to be a furry alarm clock, it would cheer mom right up and she would start the day loving on our dog. I mean, really?, how can you not love a wake up from a big fluffy white happy dog?
She still loves Sophie, but she finds a way to get her point across. Her opener. Her morning poison. Her negative comment. Her declaration of how displeased she is. Her assertion of being the boss, I guess. It makes me sad - lots of things make me sad. I wonder of other caregivers are as sad on a daily basis as I am?
Anyway, I have faith that this will pass. I may not be the expert on ALZ, but I can assure you that nothing is constant and no routine is sacred if the ALZ patient decides to change it. The caregiver is not allowed to make a change or leave anything out of place, but the ALZ patient can change with the wind and explain that this is how it has ALWAYS BEEN....and then roll their eyes at how stupid you are!
Tonight is also the night I have to pretend it's Friday night again. I let her know it's Saturday all day - because of all the kid's activities. But I have to change it up by dinner time or she will spend the entire 5pm - 9pm worrying herself sick about what we do on Sundays. So far it's helping - let's hope it works on Day 18!
Mom's new thing is to start every day, not with a "Good Morning" or an observation on the weather or a question about what day it is...her new thing is to say something negative.
Obviously, I noticed it the first time it happened, but after 3, and then 4, days in a row of negative "openers", I began to count them. Today was Day 18....or should I say DAY EIGHTEEN?!
It's hard. It's especially hard on a Saturday when I know that I had to set an alarm to wake up before my family so mom can stay on her schedule. To have to make 2 breakfasts so mom can stay on her schedule. To eat with mom and not my family so mom can stay on her schedule. It's hard when the first words you hear are ugly.
Today's "opener" was "Why is it so cold in here? Don't they (always cracks me up - the reference to 'they' and 'them') ever turn on the heat?"
Our electric bill has jumped up an average of 36% since mom moved in. She requires a lot of light and noise. She does not have the ability to turn on the tv or the lights by herself, so if I have to run out or if I am going to be upstairs doing something with the kids, I set up all the rooms she likes to go in the way she likes them. I have never been so happy to see the weather turn cooler - no more AC (a nightmare to my electric bill!). I vowed I would not turn the heater on until the first frost if I can help it. I washed and gave mom my favorite red Martha Stewart blanket. Washed and hung out her coziest robes, slippers and nightgowns. Put a fire in the fireplace first thing in the morning so she has a place to be as warm as she wants...because that fireplace cranks out the heat in just 15 minutes!
Truth is - I would turn on the heat if it ever got remotely uncomfortable. I would be a bit grumpy about it, but I wouldn't let the kids or mom be cold so I could save $5.00. But it hasn't. I would have loved to open some windows and really bring the cool air in - I love to sleep that way. I think you get the very best sleep under a pile of blankets in a room filled with cool, fresh air.
My point is - it wasn't cold. I wouldn't even say it was cool. I wore short sleeves and a light shirt - it's in the 70's outside.
Some days she complains about her clothes. Some days she complains about the time. Lots of days she complains that I wasn't downstairs fast enough...usually after she has gotten up and gone back to bed 1 or 2 or 3 times. Some days she complains about something she had a dream about...that's a weird one to respond to. One day she complained that she was sleeping in someone else's room and why on earth would I do that to her?!
I have tried getting the first word in, but for some reason, even if I say the first good morning - she still chooses negative. It used to be when I called Sophie in to be a furry alarm clock, it would cheer mom right up and she would start the day loving on our dog. I mean, really?, how can you not love a wake up from a big fluffy white happy dog?
She still loves Sophie, but she finds a way to get her point across. Her opener. Her morning poison. Her negative comment. Her declaration of how displeased she is. Her assertion of being the boss, I guess. It makes me sad - lots of things make me sad. I wonder of other caregivers are as sad on a daily basis as I am?
Anyway, I have faith that this will pass. I may not be the expert on ALZ, but I can assure you that nothing is constant and no routine is sacred if the ALZ patient decides to change it. The caregiver is not allowed to make a change or leave anything out of place, but the ALZ patient can change with the wind and explain that this is how it has ALWAYS BEEN....and then roll their eyes at how stupid you are!
Tonight is also the night I have to pretend it's Friday night again. I let her know it's Saturday all day - because of all the kid's activities. But I have to change it up by dinner time or she will spend the entire 5pm - 9pm worrying herself sick about what we do on Sundays. So far it's helping - let's hope it works on Day 18!
Monday, October 28, 2013
WOW! Bigger than the normal WOW...ginormous WOW!
Some days require planning, some days require preparation, some days require check lists...yesterday was one of those days. It was Homecoming Saturday - the first of many, I am sure, Peyton had a friend sleep over, Patrick had to work, the lawn needed to be mowed and Murph had baseball practice from 4-7.
What I wanted to do was to sleep in - all day maybe!, but my list of tasks would not allow that. Besides, mom doesn't handle a day off schedule very well. So, alarm off at 7:00...could've slept til 7:30 since I really couldn't shower until we finished the yard work! Fire in the fireplace to take the edge off the cold and damp of the downstairs, started breakfast and got mom started getting ready.
Very normal morning - the kiddos even came down in order - Keaton is my early riser, the Patrick and then the girls. Since it was cool - I made oatmeal...not the healthy kind - banana, chocolate chip oatmeal - the yummy kind!
Mom and I sat at the table and ate - I tried to give her my undivided attention (as much as I could with everyone else needing something) - it was a good start to the day. I try my best to take baby bites and talk too much so I don't finish my breakfast 'WAY before she finishes, but I never seem to time it just right. So, I got up and fed Sophie, sat back down to finish my coffee, got up to put the oatmeal pan in to soak, sat back down for another sip of coffee, put the kids dishes in the dishwasher, sat back down one more time.
Finally mom finished up, so I cleared the bowls and mugs and put them in the dishwasher. Mom was still sitting at the table. I grabbed up some recycling to take out and mom was still sitting there. I turned around to see if Sophie wanted to come out with me and glanced over at mom and she was head down, hands trembling and really out of it. It was so scary and so sad.
I had Patrick call 911 - thought she was having another stroke or another attack of the heart arrythmia.
Funniest thing - mom remembered my name and who I was when she was totally out of it...she called me Lisa and asked me to sit with her for a minute...so sweetly.
Paramedics came - stable, vitals, history, decision not to go to hospital, here's what it could be, here's what you need to do Monday, etc. It was a big deal - they were here for 30 minutes or so. Half the neighborhood stopped by to make sure everything was okay. They came up with sirens wailing, they brought their big stretcher and lots of monitors and hooked mom up to everything - even pricked her finger to do a blood test!
And as soon as they were out the door...mom didn't remember that they had even been there. She didn't want to rest, she didn't want to drink the Gatorade or water, she didn't want to take it easy. Why on Earth should she rest?
ALZ never fails to blow my mind, but bearing witness to something like that is unbelievable. How is it possible to be that suddenly sick and unable to function and then not remember anything about it in 2 minutes?
It's getting harder and harder to communicate with mom - she has no points of reference, but she is always right. She NEEDS to always be right. I know the books and blogs and experts say there is no benefit to arguing or even explaining most of the time...but how weird to argue with a grown woman about the fact that we had to call 911 that morning and the doctor/paramedics said to do this and this and this...
WOW!
What I wanted to do was to sleep in - all day maybe!, but my list of tasks would not allow that. Besides, mom doesn't handle a day off schedule very well. So, alarm off at 7:00...could've slept til 7:30 since I really couldn't shower until we finished the yard work! Fire in the fireplace to take the edge off the cold and damp of the downstairs, started breakfast and got mom started getting ready.
Very normal morning - the kiddos even came down in order - Keaton is my early riser, the Patrick and then the girls. Since it was cool - I made oatmeal...not the healthy kind - banana, chocolate chip oatmeal - the yummy kind!
Mom and I sat at the table and ate - I tried to give her my undivided attention (as much as I could with everyone else needing something) - it was a good start to the day. I try my best to take baby bites and talk too much so I don't finish my breakfast 'WAY before she finishes, but I never seem to time it just right. So, I got up and fed Sophie, sat back down to finish my coffee, got up to put the oatmeal pan in to soak, sat back down for another sip of coffee, put the kids dishes in the dishwasher, sat back down one more time.
Finally mom finished up, so I cleared the bowls and mugs and put them in the dishwasher. Mom was still sitting at the table. I grabbed up some recycling to take out and mom was still sitting there. I turned around to see if Sophie wanted to come out with me and glanced over at mom and she was head down, hands trembling and really out of it. It was so scary and so sad.
I had Patrick call 911 - thought she was having another stroke or another attack of the heart arrythmia.
Funniest thing - mom remembered my name and who I was when she was totally out of it...she called me Lisa and asked me to sit with her for a minute...so sweetly.
Paramedics came - stable, vitals, history, decision not to go to hospital, here's what it could be, here's what you need to do Monday, etc. It was a big deal - they were here for 30 minutes or so. Half the neighborhood stopped by to make sure everything was okay. They came up with sirens wailing, they brought their big stretcher and lots of monitors and hooked mom up to everything - even pricked her finger to do a blood test!
And as soon as they were out the door...mom didn't remember that they had even been there. She didn't want to rest, she didn't want to drink the Gatorade or water, she didn't want to take it easy. Why on Earth should she rest?
ALZ never fails to blow my mind, but bearing witness to something like that is unbelievable. How is it possible to be that suddenly sick and unable to function and then not remember anything about it in 2 minutes?
It's getting harder and harder to communicate with mom - she has no points of reference, but she is always right. She NEEDS to always be right. I know the books and blogs and experts say there is no benefit to arguing or even explaining most of the time...but how weird to argue with a grown woman about the fact that we had to call 911 that morning and the doctor/paramedics said to do this and this and this...
WOW!
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
What a week...(or so)...
I have a head cold...a long, lingering head cold. I find that the pills and liquids and tablets designed to make me feel better make me feel thick. or anxious. or buzzy. I am trying to take comfort in the fact that I feel better with the head cold and nothing else. Unfortunately, the realization that I feel best without the head cold ruins that theory!
A head cold requires lots of tissues, cough drops, bottles of water. glasses of juice, bowls of soup, ice pops and probably patience. I never made it to the store to get ice pops and I have clearly misplaced my patience underneath the piles of used tissues and cough drop wrappers!
There have been challenges, joys and compromises throughout my head cold period and then there was Sunday. Sundays are tough. They perplex mom. The bring to light the things she would rather ignore. Mom gets feisty on Sundays.
This Sunday she was in rare form and so was I! We maintained our distance as best we could. I was pretty quiet and kept a smile pasted on my face most of the day. And I mean ALL day.
I slept in...I was up most of the night coughing and I turned off my alarm. I slept until 8:00, showered and headed downstairs. Mom was up, sitting in her nightgown in her chair not very happy. I smiled and just tried to move the day onward and upward. One problem...Keaton had geometry that he needed help with and Patrick had to leave for work at 11:30. That meant they would be working at the kitchen table and mom and I would have to make do with trays in the family or living room...eeeeeek!
That was the beginning of the end of all hope for an easy day.
The kids were great with me and with mom. We held it together pretty well considering mom let Jason in, thinking he was an old man resident or the maintenance man - depends on when I asked her. She spent 2 hours eating a Halloween snack bag of M&Ms "secretively". She even lied to Sophie - her partner in crime. Apparently partnership only goes so far....mom doesn't love anyone or anything enough to share her M&Ms! She got on a "what time do we eat" kick really early - VERY early!
It all came to a head at dinner. I made a really nice Sunday meal - Bacon Wrapped Chicken bites in a sweet and spicy rub, steamed broccoli and creamy, buttery parmesan rice. Peyton is picky. She eats 4 or 5 things and I didn't make any of them. That means she can eat cereal or PB&J or leftovers. Sunday we had leftover corn dogs - she loves corn dogs!
I got started early on dinner because Sundays are a challenge without a head cold and I wanted to be ready! I planned, I had the table set beautifully, I had the prep dishes done and put away, I had a plan to get everything to finish at exactly the same time...it was a beautiful thing. Until the ketchup. I asked Peyton to get drinks and to grab some ketchup for her corn dogs. She grabbed the bottle and filled her ramekin and was going to put the bottle back in the fridge when mom muttered "I might like some of that...." I can't do the conversation justice, but suffice it to say - we left the ketchup on the table after failing to explain adequately that we weren't eating anything that required or would even benefit slightly from ketchup.
I have no idea why, but you could almost watch mom getting more and more frustrated while I finished up our meal. By the time we sat down, she refused to look at me, she wouldn't speak to the kids and she went for the ketchup with a vengeance. She poured ketchup on my beautiful chicken and all over the rice I made with organic butter and the expensive Parmesan cheese and freshly cut chives...I wanted to cry. She also made a fuss about having less on her plate and the smallest drink cup, so I got her more chicken to destroy and switched glasses with her. Bless her heart, she nearly made herself sick finishing it, but she was desperate to WIN.
Peyton sat most of the meal with her mouth hanging open - how do I explain to her why mom gets to break all the rules I make them follow! Keaton just smirked and chuckled under his breath. I stopped being angry and decided to enjoy my own beautiful meal and just let it go. I can't get the images out of my brain. Ketchup, ketchup and more ketchup.
Oh well, Monday was better, today she is tired and I think I am seeing light at the end of the head cold tunnel...maybe tomorrow will hold the cure!
A head cold requires lots of tissues, cough drops, bottles of water. glasses of juice, bowls of soup, ice pops and probably patience. I never made it to the store to get ice pops and I have clearly misplaced my patience underneath the piles of used tissues and cough drop wrappers!
There have been challenges, joys and compromises throughout my head cold period and then there was Sunday. Sundays are tough. They perplex mom. The bring to light the things she would rather ignore. Mom gets feisty on Sundays.
This Sunday she was in rare form and so was I! We maintained our distance as best we could. I was pretty quiet and kept a smile pasted on my face most of the day. And I mean ALL day.
I slept in...I was up most of the night coughing and I turned off my alarm. I slept until 8:00, showered and headed downstairs. Mom was up, sitting in her nightgown in her chair not very happy. I smiled and just tried to move the day onward and upward. One problem...Keaton had geometry that he needed help with and Patrick had to leave for work at 11:30. That meant they would be working at the kitchen table and mom and I would have to make do with trays in the family or living room...eeeeeek!
That was the beginning of the end of all hope for an easy day.
The kids were great with me and with mom. We held it together pretty well considering mom let Jason in, thinking he was an old man resident or the maintenance man - depends on when I asked her. She spent 2 hours eating a Halloween snack bag of M&Ms "secretively". She even lied to Sophie - her partner in crime. Apparently partnership only goes so far....mom doesn't love anyone or anything enough to share her M&Ms! She got on a "what time do we eat" kick really early - VERY early!
It all came to a head at dinner. I made a really nice Sunday meal - Bacon Wrapped Chicken bites in a sweet and spicy rub, steamed broccoli and creamy, buttery parmesan rice. Peyton is picky. She eats 4 or 5 things and I didn't make any of them. That means she can eat cereal or PB&J or leftovers. Sunday we had leftover corn dogs - she loves corn dogs!
I got started early on dinner because Sundays are a challenge without a head cold and I wanted to be ready! I planned, I had the table set beautifully, I had the prep dishes done and put away, I had a plan to get everything to finish at exactly the same time...it was a beautiful thing. Until the ketchup. I asked Peyton to get drinks and to grab some ketchup for her corn dogs. She grabbed the bottle and filled her ramekin and was going to put the bottle back in the fridge when mom muttered "I might like some of that...." I can't do the conversation justice, but suffice it to say - we left the ketchup on the table after failing to explain adequately that we weren't eating anything that required or would even benefit slightly from ketchup.
I have no idea why, but you could almost watch mom getting more and more frustrated while I finished up our meal. By the time we sat down, she refused to look at me, she wouldn't speak to the kids and she went for the ketchup with a vengeance. She poured ketchup on my beautiful chicken and all over the rice I made with organic butter and the expensive Parmesan cheese and freshly cut chives...I wanted to cry. She also made a fuss about having less on her plate and the smallest drink cup, so I got her more chicken to destroy and switched glasses with her. Bless her heart, she nearly made herself sick finishing it, but she was desperate to WIN.
Peyton sat most of the meal with her mouth hanging open - how do I explain to her why mom gets to break all the rules I make them follow! Keaton just smirked and chuckled under his breath. I stopped being angry and decided to enjoy my own beautiful meal and just let it go. I can't get the images out of my brain. Ketchup, ketchup and more ketchup.
Oh well, Monday was better, today she is tired and I think I am seeing light at the end of the head cold tunnel...maybe tomorrow will hold the cure!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)