Something is going on with Mom. I don't know exactly what it is, but something is happening.
Sunday, I decided to wash Mom's sheets and blankets. It took almost all day, by the time she got up, but I got it all done and was so heartened to have everything clean for her - clean pajamas, clean sheets, clean blankets. Her bed was so clean and fresh smelling - I almost wish I had a clothesline to hang the sheets in the bright sunshine we're having now.
But when Sunday night came, Mom refused to get into bed. She came to me after we had gotten her pajamas on and said she couldn't use it. I asked her what she meant and she repeated her statement so I asked her to show me. In her bedroom, Mom stopped by her bed and pointed to it. "I can't use this," she said. I asked her why and she said "It's wet." I felt the sheets and of course they were not wet, but Mom had it stuck in her mind that since I had washed them, they were wet. She absolutely refused to get into bed, so finally, after about a half hour of arguing with her, I pulled the comforter over the sheets and blankets, got her another blanket and said she could sleep on that.
Monday was just another day, no big deal, Mom slept until about noon that day I think.
Tuesday, though, Mom wouldn't get up. I kept checking on her and finally she got up and was dressed before I knew it, about 3:30 p.m. I thought it was odd that she got up without saying anything or coming into the kitchen to see what I was up to. My answer came Tuesday evening when I was helping her get ready for bed about 10 p.m. and asked where her pajama bottoms were. Mom pointed to the bed, so I pulled back the sheets and there was poop all over her bottom sheet. I couldn't change the bed then, so I left Mom's jeans on her, put a big towel over the poop and got her into bed. After she was in bed, I discovered her pajama bottoms that were poopy too. But I didn't see poop anywhere else. I didn't know what her disposable panties looked like and I am such a wimp, I didn't want to know. I just thought Mom would be okay until I could change her bed the next day.
Today, Mom slept and slept. I checked on her once or twice an hour to make sure she was okay. She was sound asleep all day. Finally, I got her up about 5 p.m. because her caregiver was scheduled to come at 7 p.m. I took off the dirty sheets and washed them right away as I fed Mom something to eat. She's not eating well and will only eat bread, meat and potatoes. And it seems to me like she's having trouble swallowing. This evening, I gave her toast with butter and jam and a couple of glasses of milk. I had to coax her to eat all her toast. After she had showered and the caregiver left, I also had her eat a small ice cream sundae.
Mom looks so frail, moreso than I've noticed before. Her clothing is not fitting well because I think she's losing more weight. She cannot make any sentence make sense, which frustrates her IF she notices it.
I am just really getting the feeling that God is preparing her to leave us. Mom left me a long time ago, but physically she is still here. I think God is preparing me too, for when Mom leaves. I've got the contact list all done and in a notebook. I'm going to clean out her closet so we can donate some of her clothes. I can't really explain it well, but I have this feeling, not a scary feeling, almost a peaceful one, that Mom will leave soon. Now, God's time certainly isn't my time, so when I say soon, I'm thinking in the next couple of months. God's time might be the next couple of years, but somehow I don't think so.
And I'm so happy for Mom when she does leave us. She will be with Grandma Dora and Grandpa John, she'll see all her dear friends who she misses so much and she will be free of this awful disease that took her from me. I am so blessed to have had my Mom all this time, to have had her as my best friend, to have had her as my Rock (along with God). I miss her so much.
Thank you, my God, for letting me have Mom as long as I did. And I thank you for every day that I still have her. I pray, my Father, that you cradle her in Your Loving Arms and take her Home soon. Amen.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Mom's Checklist
Mom is changing so fast.
She is changing physically, losing weight, not seeing well with her glasses. She seems to be getting smaller each day. And of course the Alzheimer's is making her change.
The so-called experts of Alzheimer's have broken down the disease into five stages. Mom is fast approaching the last stage.
She is wandering more, getting restless. Sometimes her feet shake and she kind of stomps them. She can barely handle drying the dishes and can't put them away most of the time. The other night, when her caregiver was here, Mom began crying because she couldn't remember where the dishes went. She can't put silverware back in the drawer. I can't figure out why because that should be one of the simplest tasks. Just put the forks where the other forks are, the knives where the other knives are, etc., right? But she can't do that, and forks are mixed with the spoons and knives are with the forks ... It's always an adventure to pull out the silverware drawer and see where things are.
As these changes occur, it's like there's a checklist going off in the back of my mind. Wandering, check. Restlessness, check. Crying, check. Not being able to communicate, check. And the checklist goes on.
As I go through the checklist, it makes me sad and mad at the same time. I can't do a damned thing about it. And I hate what this is doing to this strong, independent woman. And I know the end is coming.
Alzheimer's takes all logic away. Things that are very logical to me, such as putting a shirt over your head to get it on, are not to Mom. She tries to put underwear over her head. Even with tags on the back of her clothes, she can't figure out which is the front and which is the back. She can't figure out where the garbage goes.
So as these changes occur, the checklist keeps getting longer. I hope some day very soon, I can stop checking things off and that my real Mom will find peace and happiness.
She is changing physically, losing weight, not seeing well with her glasses. She seems to be getting smaller each day. And of course the Alzheimer's is making her change.
The so-called experts of Alzheimer's have broken down the disease into five stages. Mom is fast approaching the last stage.
She is wandering more, getting restless. Sometimes her feet shake and she kind of stomps them. She can barely handle drying the dishes and can't put them away most of the time. The other night, when her caregiver was here, Mom began crying because she couldn't remember where the dishes went. She can't put silverware back in the drawer. I can't figure out why because that should be one of the simplest tasks. Just put the forks where the other forks are, the knives where the other knives are, etc., right? But she can't do that, and forks are mixed with the spoons and knives are with the forks ... It's always an adventure to pull out the silverware drawer and see where things are.
As these changes occur, it's like there's a checklist going off in the back of my mind. Wandering, check. Restlessness, check. Crying, check. Not being able to communicate, check. And the checklist goes on.
As I go through the checklist, it makes me sad and mad at the same time. I can't do a damned thing about it. And I hate what this is doing to this strong, independent woman. And I know the end is coming.
Alzheimer's takes all logic away. Things that are very logical to me, such as putting a shirt over your head to get it on, are not to Mom. She tries to put underwear over her head. Even with tags on the back of her clothes, she can't figure out which is the front and which is the back. She can't figure out where the garbage goes.
So as these changes occur, the checklist keeps getting longer. I hope some day very soon, I can stop checking things off and that my real Mom will find peace and happiness.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Making the list
God is so good to me.
Since coming home from my college reunion in mid-July, it seems to me like this Mom I'm taking care of is slipping away day after day, not only mentally but physically.
She is losing weight. Her body seems to be drawing itself inward. It's hard to describe, it might be the osteoporosis, but not only is Mom hunching over, which is typical osteoporosis, it seems like her shoulders are shrugging forward. Her appetite is not the same - she's not eating her usual oatmeal like she used to. I've added bananas, and cinnamon and sugar, to change the flavor somewhat, but she still is not eating it. She's drinking her milk every morning and eating just one piece of toast instead of her usual two pieces. And supper is getting to be a real challenge. Unless it's plain meat and potatoes, or a hamburger with bacon and cheese on it, she absolutely will not eat. I am watching her carefully as she eats, because sometimes I think it's hard for her to swallow. More and more often, she forgets how to take her pills.
Mentally, she is barely able to communicate at all. She cannot describe things, she can't tell how she feels and if she hurts somewhere, it's a real guessing game about exactly where she's hurting or if she really is. She is getting more stubborn and argues with me more often. She has a thing about wearing panties now and I really have to watch her to make sure she's got some on, because sometimes after going to the bathroom, she takes them off and just puts her jeans or pajamas back on.
She doesn't know the next door neighbor any more and I'm still not sure she knows me. She has begun wanting to go outside, especially in the afternoons, and imagines there are children outside she needs to take care of or someone down the street she must see or a store she must go to.
Even though I've lost my Mom a while ago, this physical Mom is fading fast and I'm just getting the feeling that I won't have her around too much longer. Now, in God's time, that might be a year or two, or even longer than that, but I really feel like He is preparing me for when Mom leaves me for good.
One of those preparations is making a list.
I am a list-making machine. I make lists for grocery shopping, I make lists when I go on errands, I make lists of daily chores, I make lists for any trips I take. Now I must make another list.
When something happens to Mom (I used to say "if" something happens to Mom), I'll have to make phone calls, hopefully from here at home. My sincere prayer is that I will walk in Mom's bedroom one morning and she will be gone. And it occurred to me last night that I should start making a list of people I need to call when something happens to Mom. I know that this is God working in my life. When something does happen, I know I will not have the power to think, let alone contact people, but with my list, I won't have to think, I can just go down the list of names.
So today, I am beginning my list, trying to be prepared for when I won't have Mom any longer. It's not going to be an easy list to make, but it's a necessary one.
Since coming home from my college reunion in mid-July, it seems to me like this Mom I'm taking care of is slipping away day after day, not only mentally but physically.
She is losing weight. Her body seems to be drawing itself inward. It's hard to describe, it might be the osteoporosis, but not only is Mom hunching over, which is typical osteoporosis, it seems like her shoulders are shrugging forward. Her appetite is not the same - she's not eating her usual oatmeal like she used to. I've added bananas, and cinnamon and sugar, to change the flavor somewhat, but she still is not eating it. She's drinking her milk every morning and eating just one piece of toast instead of her usual two pieces. And supper is getting to be a real challenge. Unless it's plain meat and potatoes, or a hamburger with bacon and cheese on it, she absolutely will not eat. I am watching her carefully as she eats, because sometimes I think it's hard for her to swallow. More and more often, she forgets how to take her pills.
Mentally, she is barely able to communicate at all. She cannot describe things, she can't tell how she feels and if she hurts somewhere, it's a real guessing game about exactly where she's hurting or if she really is. She is getting more stubborn and argues with me more often. She has a thing about wearing panties now and I really have to watch her to make sure she's got some on, because sometimes after going to the bathroom, she takes them off and just puts her jeans or pajamas back on.
She doesn't know the next door neighbor any more and I'm still not sure she knows me. She has begun wanting to go outside, especially in the afternoons, and imagines there are children outside she needs to take care of or someone down the street she must see or a store she must go to.
Even though I've lost my Mom a while ago, this physical Mom is fading fast and I'm just getting the feeling that I won't have her around too much longer. Now, in God's time, that might be a year or two, or even longer than that, but I really feel like He is preparing me for when Mom leaves me for good.
One of those preparations is making a list.
I am a list-making machine. I make lists for grocery shopping, I make lists when I go on errands, I make lists of daily chores, I make lists for any trips I take. Now I must make another list.
When something happens to Mom (I used to say "if" something happens to Mom), I'll have to make phone calls, hopefully from here at home. My sincere prayer is that I will walk in Mom's bedroom one morning and she will be gone. And it occurred to me last night that I should start making a list of people I need to call when something happens to Mom. I know that this is God working in my life. When something does happen, I know I will not have the power to think, let alone contact people, but with my list, I won't have to think, I can just go down the list of names.
So today, I am beginning my list, trying to be prepared for when I won't have Mom any longer. It's not going to be an easy list to make, but it's a necessary one.
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