Parental Journal 59 from Planet Elderly – We Survived Mother’s Day at Olive Garden

Posted on May 9, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Mother’s Day – May 8, 2016  – early morning

Alaska, Anyone?

Been dealing with Mom’s continued confusion about money matters, but after each thorough explanation she settles down for a bit.  A day or two later, we have the same conversation.  She was given a written explanation of different bank accounts, but keeps forgetting she has that.  Even after reading it aloud to me, two days later it’s all a mystery and she has no money.

Things have actually been rather calm with little drama lately, except for recently when she decided to return in the afternoon to visit Dad a couple times and saw him yelling, kicking, and carrying on.  When she returns from those visits, she is very upset and crying.  She tends to blame herself, and I gently coach her that this is nothing she can control or fix; this is how his brain is functioning.

“He keeps saying that he wants to come home,” she cries.

“They all want to come home,” I said.  “We all want to be home where we feel safe and secure.”   Then I reminded her that when we visit each day and ask how he is, he’ll say, “Great!”  or “Good” or “Just fine.”  I acknowledged that it’s  truly devastating to see him when he’s agitated.

By the time I helped her calm down yesterday she said, “I need a vacation.  I can’t do this anymore.”

“Sure you do,” I said.

“You’re coming with,” she said.  “Where do you want to go?”

“Alaska!  Everyone I’ve met who has gone on a cruise to Alaska had a wonderful time.”

“Yeah…I’ve always wanted to see Alaska, too.   Check it out,” she said, as if ready to book passage.

Then I asked her if she’d feel comfortable being away from Dad for that period of time and she admitted that she would not.

We’ve had this conversation numerous times.  Mom would like to do some fun things and travel a bit before she dies.  Wouldn’t we all?  I’m 69 and feel like I’m in my 40s.  Mom is 89 and feels like she’s in her 20s.  Go figure.

We Survived the Cattle Call at Olive Garden on Mother’s Day

3:30 p.m.

Quiet visit with Dad today.  He slept in his chair until lunch, but then had a good lunch.  Mom was sad because he “didn’t say anything.”  I reminded her that he has some verbal days and some quiet days.  If he doesn’t look at her and smile during a visit, she is not a happy gal.  Sometimes she’s royally pissed.

At least when we left Dad and headed to Olive Garden in Gurnee, IL, she wasn’t crying.  Mom had never been to an Olive Garden, so I thought that would be something different for her.  I’m not a huge fan, but I knew she would enjoy the lasagna.  She did.   We also enjoyed people watching.  With just two of us, we only had to wait 20 minutes.  We brought home leftovers and two orders of tiramisu to enjoy later.  So, yeah, if you’re going to go to Olive Garden for the first time, why not go on their busiest day of the year?  Mother’s Day!

Mom Mother's Day 2016 first visit at Olive Garden Gurnee, IL

 

Neuropsych Evaluation Visit Tomorrow

I’m kind of anxious about what the evaluation report will reveal.  The appointment is for 2 p.m.  First, I’m hoping we can drive there without Mom threatening to jump out of the car.  I think she’ll be okay.  I’m expecting that she will primarily complain about the drive and not understanding why this was done in the first place because she’s just fine.  My response is already planned:  “Yeah…I understand.  Well, we’re just finishing up what the doctor said we needed to do.  I’m pretty sure my doctor will have me referred for the same tests sometime within the next 10 years or so.”  I’ll say that once or twice and then just let her complain the rest of time without any comment from me.  If she asks more questions as to why, I’ll just shrug my shoulders and say, “I dunno.”

I’m curious about the doctor’s approach and if there will be a recommendation to stop driving.  I also wonder what recommendation might be made in terms of living independently.

In my mind I’m playing out different scenarios…options…and how to approach them.

I’ve been here a month.  Right about now I’d love to have a month back in Columbia to recharge my battery.  I miss my life there.

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Parental Journal 58 from Planet Elderly – A Couple Calm Days and Common Sense Discussions

Posted on May 6, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Friday, May 6, 2016- 6 a.m.

I’m not sure why, but the past couple days have been without a lot of drama, anger, or tears.  I woke up this morning thinking maybe it’s because I’ve been here nearly a month and Mom is adjusting to having some assistance.  Maybe not.  Maybe she’ll have a tirade later today and demand that I go home.

Friend Bonnie sent me a pile of mail that accumulated in Columbia.  Son Adam collected it for her to pick up, plus he and I reviewed the contents of the pile during a recent phone conversation.

Although the box of mail only contained some bill and insurance statements plus some magazines, I was delighted to receive it.  It was as if I had received a slice of my own life to be with for a while.  This is how it must be for prisoners or military personnel when they receive mail and care packages.

Am I implying that being here is like being in prison?  Pretty much, yes.  I live Mom’s schedule and have minimal privacy.  Even she has talked of her own life as being in a prison with the daily routine of seeing Dad, doing his laundry, cleaning the house, reading through mail, and getting up the next day to do it all over again.

Mom hasn’t even fussed much about Monday’s appointment with the neuropsychologist who will review test results.  A couple days ago she said she wanted to cancel the appointment, but I just said we are required to go…and that this would be her last appointment with that doctor; she would not have to see her again.  “Well, that’s good,” she replied.

“He’s Going To Die Here, Isn’t He?”

While visiting Dad the other day, Mom looked at me and said, “He’s going to die here, isn’t he?”  I was a bit surprised by this question, but I said something about this skilled nursing unit is often the last place of residence unless someone is moved to a hospice facility or hospital.  She teared up.  She would like him to be at home when he dies.  I know he would like that, too.

These days she often sits with a worried look on her face.  She does not want Dad to live alone, to feel lonely, or to die alone.  I understand her concerns.

Mom and Dad 01 May 2 2016

 

Early Morning Conversation About Options

This morning I woke up with the birds and made coffee.  Mom came downstairs, sat across from me, and stared at the rug.

“What are you thinking?”  I asked.

“Maybe I’m mistaken, but when I visited Dad by myself yesterday afternoon I thought they had taken his name tag away from where his room is.  We need to check on that.”

“Sure.  We can do that today…but maybe it was part of a dream?”

“Maybe.  I just don’t know.  My mind is so busy with things.”

And that led us to a long, easy discussion about options for the future.  I talked about how my friends and I were already thinking about what to do when we can no longer live by ourselves due to health or memory problems.  We talked about the women we’ve met at Victory Lakes who live in the independent living apartments while their husbands reside in Dad’s unit…how the women can easily visit their husbands and keep them company.

As she had done before, she mentioned things she would take if she decided to move…but also discussed the fear of not wanting to stay there if something happened to Dad.

“I would not let you stay there,” I said.  “I would move you to Columbia where we could hang out together more and you could spend time with Adam and your great grandchildren.”

She didn’t respond to that other than to say, “I think it would be less expensive for me to stay here.  I’d have to sell the house in order to move over there.”

I assured her that she would not have to sell the house, but that, yes, it is less expensive to stay where she is.  That was the perfect opening for me to reintroduce the idea of how some folks who have health or memory problems live pretty well on their own and just need someone popping in a couple times a day or a couple times a week to check in and assist if needed.  “Sort of like I do now,” I suggested.

She did not react negatively, so I took the conversation a step further.  “And even if someone can no longer drive, there are services that provide transportation.  Folks get picked up and dropped off to spend whatever time they want visiting their loved ones who live in a community like Dad’s, and then they get picked up and brought back home a few hours later.  And these services can also take folks grocery shopping, to doctor appointments…but you even have Kevin next door.  He’d be happy to take you over to Jewel or to an appointment.

“Yes he would,” she said.

Shortly before 6 a.m. she decided to go back to bed.  I got a third cup of coffee and felt quite good about the conversation we had.  I’m not sure what, if any, of the conversation she will remember, but I do know she ruminates about “what to do” quite often…and that’s good.

On some level she knows a change will have to take place.  She sees how other families deal with similar situations when we visit Dad at Victory Lakes.  She seems to be slowly realizing that her desire to have Dad home will not become a reality.  She did not fuss or cry during the conference visit we had with staff yesterday, and that was the first time she was rather complacent.  In fact, at one point she said, “He just can’t come home.”  Everyone around the conference table slowly nodded their heads in agreement.

My focus lately has been more on “we” and not “you,” because I do think about what I plan to do in the future when I can no longer live independently…and my close friends think about that, too.  So I share that with Mom and I think that approach helps.

We’re all getting older.  Our bodies and brains are aging.  We’re noticing more memory problems. We will need more assistance in the future.  It’s just a part of life for those of us granted the extra time on this big blue marble.

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Parental Journal 57 from Planet Elderly – Grateful for New Friends and for AgingCare.com

Posted on May 5, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Mom and Dad 02 May 2 2016

Dad still recognizes Mom and responds to her kisses.

Wednesday, May 4, 2016 – early morning

Very nice luncheon at Mom’s yesterday with guests, Judy, her mom and her aunt.  Although Mom nervously prepped, she enjoyed herself and loved the compliments on her twice baked potatoes and cherry dessert.

Good company and lots of laughter.  I am grateful to have these new friends during this very stressful time.

 

When visiting Dad yesterday afternoon we found him very talkative and a bit agitated.  We brought him a piece of the cherry dessert Mom made for the luncheon and he tried to share it with us.  He ate most of it…but was very distracted about figuring something out or going someplace.  “I need to get up out of here,” he repeated.   I distracted him by suggesting “We’ll wait just a little bit, okay?”  Then he was fine and stopped trying to get out of his wheelchair.

But he just talked and talked…using snips of phrases he has said over the years.  “Well, that’s okay if you think it’s alright.”    “You can wait and see if it’s what you want.”   “I need to fix this other part.”   All these statements didn’t relate to any particular point or item and we just went with the flow.

Funnies: 

When Mom sat down he smiled and reached for her hand.  Then he motioned to me and introduced me:  “Here’s our other jungle people.”    Yup.  That’s me!

I had my purse on a table near us and Dad pointed to it, saying, “Wow!  That’s a big purse!”

While Mom was washing dishes the other day, she started to try to make a case for the fact that when I visit, she can’t find things she needs in the kitchen…things get rearranged.  “Oh, no you don’t,” I said, laughing.  “I was told weeks ago just to dry and not put anything away…so if you can’t find something, you put it in an interesting place, not me.”  She had a sly smile on her face.

Useful:

Came across a website the other day:  AgingCare.com.  It includes a online Alzheimer’s and Dementia caregiver support group and I’ve spent a lot of time reading questions and responses.  Very useful, very meaningful.  So many sad and agonizing situations are discussed.

Of note:

I won’t be suggesting we have folks over for a meal again.  Yesterday’s luncheon prep was very stressful for Mom and she went into obsession mode getting everything ready.  I just let her do her thing, but it was clear she was distressed with worry.  So glad she had a great time, but if we want to get together with others in the future, restaurants will be just fine.

She fell:  A couple of nights ago Mom was going from her bedroom downstairs to the living room.  I was in the bathroom and heard what I thought was a stumble and a brief shout of surprise.  Knowing she would never want me to know what happened, and knowing it was a slight fall, I just called out, “Are you okay?”  “Yes.”      She tries to be extremely careful with stairs, so I figured this was primarily a misstep.   I’ve had them myself over recent years, but it’s good to make note of this one.

Chobani Cups

I start most days with a cup of Chobani yogurt dressed with walnuts.  Well, after coffee time, of course.  The cups can be recycled and after several were collected, I put them where I thought Mom would take them out to recycling.  Nope.  She tucked them away behind the coffee maker.  I don’t think she’s saving them for any particular reason, so maybe I’ll take the lead next Sunday and put them in the recycling bin for Monday’s pickup.

PROOF:

Chobani cups may 4 2016

 

 

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Parental Journal 56 from Planet Elderly – Round and Round With Ups and Downs

Posted on May 2, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Friday, April 28, 2016  afternoon

I was tired this morning after not sleeping much.  At 9:45 I told Mom to go visit Dad without me because I wasn’t feeling well and was tired.  She then suggested that I probably need to leave and go back to Missouri.  I told her I have to wait until we receive the report on May 9, and she got angry saying that I’m the one who is sick, not her, because all I do is “sleep, sleep, sleep.” She slammed the front door and left to visit Dad.

I thought she would be there until after lunch time, but she returned shortly before noon and was crying.  I stayed in the extra bedroom upstairs where I have all my stuff.  Decided to just leave her alone and stay out of her way. I needed some space.

She did Dad’s laundry and a few other things around the house.  At one point she asked assistance from neighbor Kevin.  He came in the house and explained to her something about the TV remote and the phone.  He also reminded her that the second remote is for the TV in her bedroom.  She has told me that the upstairs TV only has one channel, but I suspected she was not using the remote correctly.

At about 3 p.m. she told Kevin she was going to go see Dad and bring his clothes.  Kevin tried to tell her that she could bring the clothes tomorrow, but she said she was restless.  I understand.  I’m restless, too.  She came upstairs to tell me she was going to bring Dad his clothes.  I said, “Okay.”   A minute later she returned and asked if I wanted to go with.  “No.  I’m fine.”

If she continues being upset with me here, I’ll ask her if she would like me to go stay at the motel down the road. There are 10 days left until our return meeting to Thomson Memory Center to learn the test results.  I will have to make sure I get out of the house by myself during those 10 days…take some walks or go to the library to read magazines.  It may upset her, but I need to look after my own mental health.  Living her schedule is stifling and depressing.

I am planning a consultation with the police officer who called me about Mom’s early morning confusion incident a couple weeks ago.  I need to know what my options are if Mom receives a diagnosis of early dementia or mid dementia.  I also will need him to sit down and talk with her about options and my legal responsibilities as the only adult child, per Illinois law.

I wrote to someone recently:  “I was afraid of my mother when I was a child.  I’m still afraid of her as an adult.  How sad is that?”

 

Sunday, May 1, 2016 evening

Lots of ups and downs for Mom these past couple days.  It’s difficult to watch.  It’s difficult to know things will just get worse.

From hour to hour, I’m not sure what her mood will be.  The other day I actually did say to her that I could go stay at the motel down the road and she blurted, “No, no, no!  I don’t want you to leave.  I don’t want you to go back to Columbia.” Of course, within a couple hours she’ll be asking when I’m going home…telling me I make her nervous…complaining that she doesn’t know what I like to eat, etc.  It’s like a broken record.

Day to day…there are lots of broken records.

Interestingly, she didn’t explode today when I told her I won’t know when I’m going back to Columbia…that we have to wait until we get the report.

“What report?”

“From the testing you did earlier this week.”

“Oh, that.  I’m never doing that again.   Can’t they just mail it to us?”

I explained (again) that the visit is to make sure we understand the test results and have the opportunity to ask any questions.

“If you don’t want to go, that’s fine,” I said.  “I’ll record the visit.”

“No, no…I’ll go,” she said.  “But that’s too far to be going to a doctor for appointments.”

“It will be the last visit.  She just does testing and writes a report.  She’s not a doctor you would visit anymore.”

“That’s good.”

So, it looks like we’ll both go to the evaluation report visit at 2 p.m. Monday, May 9.

Anxious About the Test Results

I’m the one who’s anxious about the test results, not Mom.  As far as she’s concerned, she’s fine.

I’m expecting a diagnosis of some form of dementia.  If so, I also hope the evaluation will provide recommendations and/or specify what steps we need to take to ensure Mom’s safety and quality of life.

Thinking I know Mom, of course, I have a hard time thinking she will agree to any diagnosis or any recommended steps.  If the report recommends that she not live independently, then the shit will hit the fan.

Although getting to the point of having a diagnosis has taken a long time, I know the most difficult times are ahead.  I will have the diagnosis I need to justify needed adjustments/changes Mom will need to make, but I still won’t have much leverage.  I will need to arrange for Mom and me to meet with others who can comment on their recommendations:  neuropsychologist, primary care physician, Victory Lakes administrator and social worker, Mom’s two close friends – Dorothy (lives at Victory Lakes) and Barbara (lives in Nashville near her daughter), the officer who knows Mom from two visits, and perhaps an elder care attorney if she is firmly resistant to any change.

A week from tomorrow – that’s when we’ll meet with the neuropsychologist.  Seems like a long time from now.

Ups and Downs

Meanwhile, Mom is super aware that we are having company for lunch.  She keeps forgetting which day, but she knows she is making the twice baked potatoes and her cherry pie filling dessert.  Even though the lunch is Tuesday, she decided to make the dessert tonight.  That will leave just the twice baked potatoes to make tomorrow, a day ahead.  I’m staying out of the way.

It’s good for her to be busy.  She likes that.  Today was a particularly difficult day.  She had a major episode of being mad at Dad.  She lectured him, cried and carried on, and then she wheeled him down the hall in search of “someone in charge.”  I just followed from a distance.  She wanted to bring him home.  Immediately.  She entered one of the wings and I just watched.  She was confused and a bit lost.  Then she took Dad over to the nursing station and looked for assistance.  Dad was confused, unsure of where she was (behind him) and what she was doing.  She tried explaining, but he could not hear her.

His main nurse, Sherry, caught up with them and listened as Mom explained that she wanted to take Dad home.

“I know, Pearl,” she said, “but today is Sunday and no administrators are here today.  And I have to give Victor his medicine.  Let’s go this way.”  She led them back to the community area of the Sunshine Wing where Dad easily took his medicine and the “nicely cool” serving of water he insisted sharing with Mom.

Mom wheeled Dad to a corner area near the TV and they sat together talking.  I kept a distance and took a seat next to Virginia who is famous for frequently asking, “Please, may I go to the bathroom…somebody?  Can I go home?  NOW???”

I could see Mom and Dad talking…or at least trying to.  I’m sure Dad could not hear her or perhaps understand everything she said, but he certainly knew she was upset and crying and he was trying to help. At one point he even suggested she sit on his lap.  HOW SWEET IS THAT?

Once she calmed down she was ready to go home, but it was hard.  It is so hard for her to see him every day and then leave him every day.  It’s a constant grieving.

Interestingly, once we were home, she talked quite a bit about how she loves him “too much.”  “I think of him all the time.  I keep thinking I need to go see him.  This isn’t good not being together.  I don’t know how much time we have left.  I want to be near him.”

So I asked, “What would need to happen for you to be near him any time you wanted to be?”

That’s when she talked about maybe living at Victory Lakes.  It’s a conversation we’ve had a few times, but she isn’t sold on it.  She still believes she can take care of Dad at home, and I spent time reminding her of the level of care he needs and the emergency situations that could happen.

Then she decided she could maybe go stay at Victory Lakes for a couple weeks…to try it out.  It’s an idea that’s been suggested before and I told her I thought it was a good idea because then she could see him any time of the day or night.  She could just walk on over.  I asked if she wanted me to send an email requesting information about that possibility for a two week period and she quickly said, “Yes.”

Thirty minutes later she said, “Don’t do it.”

I didn’t.

A little while later she asked, “Did we see Dad today?  It seems like it’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”

“Yes, Mom.  We saw him today.  He saw that you were upset and asked you to sit on his lap.  Do you remember?”

“Not a lot.”

We need the evaluation report.  We need an official diagnosis of what is causing her frequent confusion and short-term memory loss.  Until then, she is totally in charge… and crumbling under the burden of fear, unhappiness, uncertainty, and guilt.

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Parental Journal 55 from Planet Elderly – One Royally Pissed Off Elderly Car Passenger

Posted on April 29, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Friday, April 29, 2016 – 1:30 a.m.

Yesterday was a long day and I ended up going to sleep around 7:30, exhausted. Now I’m up, rested and enjoying some coffee.  Will nap later.  But the mission was accomplished.  Mom had two hours of testing at the Thomson Memory Center.

It was a quiet start to the day and I thought maybe Mom had forgotten where we were going.  When she received her daily check in call from friend Jerry down in southern Illinois, I overheard her say something like, “but I don’t really want to go.”

The first three quarters of the drive to the center went smoothly as I followed directions printed out from an email the center staff sent.  I was thinking, “Gee…prayers are answered.  I’m so relieved she’s okay with just going and getting this over.”

Nope.

Our destination took us into unfamiliar territory and it took a long time.  She finally spoke and our conversation went mostly like this:

“I don’t like this.  Why are we going to this place?”

“Dr. Gupta wants us to finish up with some testing.”

“What kind of testing?”

“Cognitive testing.”  I thought I’d see if that would ride past her.  It didn’t.

“What’s that?”

“Well, it has something to do with how we do things and how we remember things.”

“Turn the car around.  I’m not going!”

I didn’t respond.

“I mean it!  I don’t want to go there!”

“I know,” I said.

Then she became very distraught and kicked up the volume.  I was worried that she might try to bolt from the car.  I was also concerned about being a distracted driver with a hysterical elderly passenger.

“I mean it!” she yelled.  “I want to go home!  NOW!  You’re killing me!  Just put me away!  I’d rather die!  I just want to open this door and jump out!”

I made sure I power locked all doors.

“Mom…it’s not safe for me to be driving when you are so upset and yelling.  I understand you don’t want to do the testing, but we have to follow Dr. Gupta’s orders.”

“I don’t care!  I’m never going back to her!  This is ridiculous…traveling all this way for an appointment.  I can’t be doing this.”

“It’s just one time…not a regular doctor you’ll be seeing.  Just one time for the testing and then a follow up visit.”

By this time we were in the parking lot.

“I’m not going in!  I want to go home!  I’ll raise a stink!”

“Ok…here it is,” I said as I pulled into a parking space.  I turned the motor off and we proceeded to get out of the car.  Mom was walking with determination to let anyone and everyone know that she didn’t want to be there.

When we walked to the reception window we were warmly greeted by Annamarie and asked how we were.

“Terrible!” Mom announced.  “I don’t want to be here.”

I handed Annamarie the 12 page pre-interview questionnaire and in the process I realized I was shaking.  At least Mom didn’t ask what that was.  She has no idea I received it and filled it out.

Annamarie escorted us to a nice waiting room with refreshments, a TV and magazines.  Shortly afterwards, another staff person came in to obtain insurance information.  I would have bet money that Mom was going to refuse to show her the cards, but she got her wallet out and the lady went to make copies.  She also gave us some documents to sign, briefly explained them, and Mom signed them.

At that point, I had a lot of admiration for Mom.  She is tenacious.  She may hate a situation, but she always figures “You just have to get through it,” and she demonstrated that yesterday.  Plus she has a healthy respect for medical and legal authorities.

Dr. Franzwa entered the room, introduced herself, and visited with us a bit.  She’s young, warm, and empathetic.  She explained that the three of us would visit for a while and then she would have some time with Mom to fill out a questionnaire and do some word and drawing tests.

With the pre-interview questionnaire I completed in front of her, Dr. Franzwa then interviewed Mom…getting her take on items to which I responded on the questionnaire.  Occasionally, she would look at me for sort of a confirmation of what Mom said and I would signal “no” or “yes” with some weird eye movements.  It was kind of awkward, but I think it worked.

For example, when asked if she spends time with friends, Mom said yes.   Actually, it’s rare. Mom mentioned that she plays Bingo.  When asked when she replied, “Every Thursday.”  I rolled my eyes big time at that response.  When she did go to Bingo, it was once a month and she stopped going six months ago.  The two friends who would meet her there also stopped going.

After the family interview, I went back to the TV room and Mom continued her time with Dr. Franzwa.  I had a cup of hot cocoa and looked at magazines.  Before I left, Dr. Franzwa said that if there was any other information I had, to leave it at the front desk.

I stopped at the front desk and asked Annamarie if it would be helpful to send her an email with attached letters I had written to Mom’s doctors in the past.  These letters addressed observations and my concerns about Mom’s short-term memory issues and her occasional confusion and delusions.  Yes.  Annamarie assured me that she would make sure Dr. Franzwa received the attachments.

When finished, Mom was escorted back to the TV room and we left.  Total time:  about 2 hours.

“She was nice,” Mom said as we walked back to the car.  “But I’m not coming here again.”

I did not respond.  I was concerned about how well I would be able to reverse the directions so we could get back to familiar territory near Grayslake.  I’m directionally challenged, but Mom has good intuition and with her assistance, we did ok except for one wrong turn I made which led us to Carpentersville.

The ride back to Grayslake was calm.  I didn’t ask about her time with Dr. Franzwa and Mom didn’t talk about it.  Once in a while she would start crying, but quickly recovered.

“I don’t see why we need to go back on Monday,” she said.

“The appointment is for Monday, May 9,” I said.  “It’s just a follow up visit to go over her report.”

“Can’t they just mail us the report?”

“They probably could, but the follow up visit gives them a chance to answer any questions.”

“Well, I’m not going.  You can go, but I’m not going.”

“Okay.”

Then the conversation turned to stopping for a bite to eat before going to see Dad…having a taste for a tuna fish sandwich…and we ended up back at Mom’s where I made tuna fish sandwiches.  Then we visited Dad.

For the rest of the day/evening Mom was cheerful.  We had pork loin for dinner and she kept saying over and over and over how tender it was.  She said nothing about the time at the center. There were no more complaints. Instead, she seemed quite upbeat that we would have company for lunch on Tuesday.  She will do the twice baked potatoes and decided to do the dessert as well, a recipe she’s received compliments on many times.  Me…I’m in charge of the chicken and vegetable.

By 7 p.m. I was worn and exhausted.  I also wanted some time alone, so I said I was going upstairs to read and would probably go to sleep early.  When I bent down to kiss Mom goodnight she smiled and said, “Good night and thank you for everything.”

Sure.  No problem.

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Parental Journal 54 from Planet Elderly – On the Eve of Neuropsych Testing

Posted on April 28, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Wednesday, April 27, 2016 – evening

I thought I was following up on what Mom wanted to do when I asked Judy when it would be convenient for her, her mom and her aunt to come over for lunch.  Mom had such a great time when we went over to Judy’s for lasagna, and when we left Mom said something about maybe doing this again at her place.

I consulted with Mom after Judy emailed back suggesting this Sunday or next Tuesday.  Mom looked uneasy, but agreed to Tuesday.

I probably should not have attempted to arrange such a gathering.  Now Mom is anxious about having people over…telling me we eat differently…not thrilled that they like dark meat and she likes only white meat…upset that the rug isn’t vacuumed and the kitchen floor needs cleaning…and in general making a huge project over a simple lunch.

But I realize that for her this is not simple.  She is thinking of all the details and that overwhelms her.  “You’re used to having lots of people over; I’m not.”  So I offered to cancel because I didn’t want her to be mad.

“NO!  If you cancel, then I’ll really be mad!   And I don’t want you talking about me to anyone!”

“When do I talk to other people about you?”

“Any time you get the chance.  I don’t need you telling people to ‘look out for my mom.’  That’s crap.  I don’t need any help.  If I have to have help, I’d rather die.”

Subject dropped.  I headed upstairs to the room I’m using.  I brought my laptop up there earlier because it’s clear that we need more space between us.  She’s on edge with me “always watching” her, and I’m starting to feel suffocated with no time to myself.  It’s also the only room with a window I can open and get some fresh air.

On the eve of the day she participates in neuropsych tests, I’m giving both of us plenty of space while I practice breathing deeply.  I’m expecting that she won’t want to go tomorrow, so I’m strategizing what to say.  I’m also expecting that she’ll complain all the way there and back, so I’ll be practicing “mindfulness of keeping my big mouth shut” and not get sucked into spats with her.

Tomorrow is a big day, one I’ve been trying for over a year to get arranged.  I’ll need to be patient, show empathy for her concerns, and not be reactive.

I see the purchase of wine in the near future.

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Parental Journal 53 from Planet Elderly – Mini Tizzy Fit and Cuddle with Wanda

Posted on April 27, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Tuesday, April 26, 2016 – late evening

I’m on an odd schedule.  Lately I’ve been waking up at 3:30 or 4:00 a.m.  I think I do that because it’s the only time I can be by myself, other than sleeping.  Then I end up napping for a couple hours in the afternoon.  Mom is asleep now and because I napped, I can’t sleep.

tv remote in phone charger April 2016

Photo:  It’s not unusual to find the TV remote stored in the phone charger.  It’s something Mom does from time to time, probably because they are similar shapes.

What’s concerning is when she tries to make or receive calls using the TV remote. She stays with the task for a while until I can no longer stand it, and then I’ll say something like, “Mom, that’s the TV remote, not the phone.”  It doesn’t seem to phase her.

Mini Tizzy Fit

Mom had a mini tizzy fit yesterday.  She did not sleep well the night before and was kind of on edge most of the day.  Then I sort of got in her way with a suggestion here and there.   She was confused about some of the mail, and when I tried explaining something about a reimbursement check she received, she got angry and threw the mail onto the living room floor.

“I’ve had enough!  I’m going out!” she said.  “Did you put the car in the garage?”

“Yes.”

“Shit!”   She has trouble getting the car into and out of the tiny one car garage and usually has the neighbor do it for her.

I decided to stick my neck out.  “Do you think it’s a good idea to drive when you’re so upset?”

She muttered something and went upstairs where she rummaged around stuff for a while.  Later she came downstairs, finished with Dad’s daily laundry, and said she was going to take a nap.  I had the same idea.

I napped until almost 5 p.m.  Way too long.  Mom napped longer.  When she woke up, she got dressed and came down to fix breakfast.  I was watching TV.  It was evening, but she didn’t realize it.  This happened once before during one of my visits, and I think it occasionally happens when I’m not here.

When I explained that it was only the early evening after her nap, she kind of chuckled.  She finished her oatmeal, raisin toast and tea, and then she went back to bed and slept through the night.

Population Increase in the Sunshine Wing

More residents have joined the Sunshine Wing…and the staff members are feeling it.  It’s stressful work. If I recall, there are 3 more gentlemen and 3 or 4 more ladies.  Few talk.

But Dad was talkative today…looking around…somewhat anxious.  When we took him to the dining room, he called out to one of the staff members, “Hey, lady!”  He was concerned about retrieving his luggage at the airport.  I tried to explain that it was lunch time and we were in the dining room.  It didn’t register until Mom ordered his lunch and he enjoyed a salad and a burger.  We decided he would not eat either of the two entrée choices of the day, and when that happens, a burger is always a sure thing.  Of course, she made sure he had some ice cream and a cookie for dessert.

Night Owls

It’s after 11 p.m.   I’m writing and sipping a Blue Moon.  Mom decided she can’t sleep and is rummaging around upstairs.  She brought down their wedding invitation and showed it to me.  She wants to show it to Dad tomorrow.

Thursday’s Appointment at the Thomson Memory Clinic

I haven’t said much about Thursday’s appointment at the Thomson Memory Clinic.  I figured I’d get a lot of drama.  But I haven’t kept it a secret, either.

Mom earnestly tries to keep track of what’s happening each day and the couple times we talked about this week, I mentioned “the appointment Dr. Gupta wants us to have on Thursday.”  So far, no explosive reactions.

One time she asked, “What’s the appointment for?”  I tried to be calm and honest.  “Dr. Gupta was concerned about some of the checking she did with your memory, so we have to go for more testing at the Thomson Clinic.”  Then I added, “We all change as we get older.  Within the next ten years, I’ll probably get referred for the same tests.”

Her only reply was, “Yes…my memory.”

For some reason I’m bracing myself for a difficult ride to the clinic on Thurs. with lots of complaining.  Maybe not.  Maybe she’ll just be curious and find some of the tests interesting.  She enjoys doing new things.

I’m delighted Dr. Gupta made the referral and that the appointment is set.  I just wish it would not take until May 9 to have the evaluation report visit.  I’m struggling with the tedium of my Mom’s place and her routine.  I actually do better when we hang out in the Sunshine Wing.

For example, today we arrived early and things were busy with after breakfast settling down.  Wanda was finally given her glasses and then I waved at her.  She looked very sad and was mumbling loudly.  So I walked over and asked if I could sit next to her.  She motioned for me to sit, gave me her doll baby to hold, and then she took my hand and kissed it.  We just sat together and talked a bit.  Sometimes she would kiss my cheek and we would chuckle.   “We’re buddies,” I told her.  “Can I be your partner?”   She laughed and said, “Yes!”   From time to time she would order me not to laugh…or not to wiggle my foot, but that’s just Wanda.

At one point I put my arm around Wanda and she immediately leaned into me and put her head on my shoulder.  It was so sweet.  We stayed that way for over an hour…not saying too much…just smiling now and then with her kissing my hand and cheek from time to time.  With her doll baby in one hand and my other arm around 101-year-old Wanda, we made a nice memory, one I’ll keep for a long time. I wish she could keep it, too.

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Parental Journal 52 from Planet Elderly – A Full Moon Episode

Posted on April 22, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Thursday, April 21, 2016 – evening

How to Make the Appointment Mom Doesn’t Want

Woke up early this morning wondering how I would call the Thomson Memory Center to make Mom’s appointment.  There is no privacy here…and she does not want this appointment.

While I had 4:30 a.m. coffee, I went online and found that under “contact us” I could request an appointment online.  So I did and received a call later this morning.  Mom will have her appointment next Thursday at 10 a.m.   Her follow-up report visit will be at 2 p.m. Monday, May 9th…the same day we have a morning conference on Dad’s care.  I’m glad we don’t have to wait six or eight weeks.

Mom learned who called me because I needed her insurance card information.  Once she knew, she had a mini tizzy fit.  I didn’t respond.  We were sitting with Dad; he was quite alert and making comments now and then.  At one point she asked who she could call to cancel.

“We’re not canceling, Mom.  Dr. Gupta wants you to have this appointment in order to finish up everything for your annual exam.”

“Well, I’m fine.  I don’t have any aches or pains.  I don’t want any more testing.”

I didn’t respond and we drifted our attention back to Dad.

She didn’t mention it the rest of the day.  Probably forgot about it.

I printed out a pre-interview questionnaire emailed to me from the center.  It’s 12 pages long.  Fortunately, there is a place to indicate who filled out the questionnaire if the patient did not.  I filled it out, figuring Mom would not be cooperative if we sat down and tried to do it together.

 

Full Moon Episode

I saw a rather full moon when I woke up early and opened the drapes before dawn.  Kinda thought something might happen.  It did.

I had planned to make some chocolate chip cookies late this afternoon.  Thought we would give some to Judy as a thank you for sending us home with leftover lasagna…and also bring a plateful for staff in Dad’s wing.

While assembling ingredients, I groaned that I didn’t think to get fresh brown sugar when we went to the store earlier today.  I tried working with what Mom had, but it was impossible…kind of like granite.

I got frustrated.  Mom got frustrated.  She offered to go to the store and I said, “No.  I’ll work with it.”  That made her mad.  When I gave up and said I would go to the store to get new brown sugar, she got even madder.

Then she exploded…telling me she couldn’t take it anymore.  “What do you mean by “it?” I asked.

“You!” she yelled.  Then she went off on a tangent, one I’ve heard before.  Stress and frustration build and then she vents.  I know it’s not easy having me around.  She has to work hard at trying to be okay and of course she feels I am watching everything she does.

“Well, I’m going out, too.  I’m getting in the car and getting away!”  Then she ran upstairs to cry.

I left to join drive time traffic, made my way to Jewel, got the brown sugar, and returned to Mom’s to find the garage door open but the car still in the garage.

I started in on the cookies and Mom came downstairs crying.  She felt so terrible at getting so angry and saying what she said.  “You don’t deserve that,” she said.

I walked over and gave her a hug.  I told her I understood that everything she is going through is becoming more and more difficult…that I know she loves me…that I understand that sometimes we all explode and I’m sure some cookies will make it all better.

We were sitting at the dining table, and then Mom began talking about Dad…how she can’t trust him anymore, how he sneaks in and takes money, how he doesn’t give her any money, how he takes and takes and takes and never gives anything in return.  “Why doesn’t he just divorce me?”

I have heard this before, so I just sat and listened.  I didn’t try to reason with her.  I just let her talk about how unhappy she is, how she wished she was dead, how she has sometimes thought about how she could kill herself (“And don’t think I didn’t think that because I did!”)…how she didn’t go anywhere in the car earlier because she was afraid she would kill herself…how she did drive a bit but came back because it’s not good to drive when she’s upset…how she wants a checking account with just her money….how she’s going to take all the money out of the bank so Dad can’t get to it.  At one point I did mention that perhaps the money would be safer in the bank and that I didn’t think Dad’s name was on her account.  She paused and then said, “You better get back to making those cookies.”  And I did.

While I started making cookies, Mom found her bank books and studied them. Then she said she would close her checking account.  I told a fib.  “That’s where the social security checks are deposited.  I don’t think the government allows that.”   Then she decided that she needed to go to the bank to tell them not to give Dad any money if he tries to get some.

“Sure,” I said.  “We can go to the bank.  If Dad’s name is not on an account, then he has no access to it, so maybe you will want to make sure all the accounts are as you want them to be.”  She continued studying her bank books and then went upstairs.  A bit later she came downstairs with her hair in rollers and in her nighttime attire.

“I’ve decided I’m going to be good,” she said.

“You’re going to be good?”

“Yes, I shouldn’t get so worked up.  Life is too short.”

“Okay,” I said.  “Here.  Have a cookie.”    full moon chocolat chip cookis 042115

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Parental Journal 51 from Planet Elderly – Lasagna, Advice, Options, and Stubborn Mom

Posted on April 21, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Tuesday, April 19, 2016  – evening

We didn’t see Dad today until the afternoon.   In the morning we took Mom’s car in to have her mechanic assess why the engine light is on.  Some part for emissions is needed.  The same thing happened in 2014, I was told, but it did not last.  They will order a better one and replace it with no charge except the difference in the cost of the part.

Fair enough.  Confusing for Mom.  She keeps thinking she has to get a check book to pay for the car repair that will take place “tomorrow.”  Three times today I explained what’s happening.  Also told her we can use the household checking to pay for this.  She relaxed…then worried about it all over again a couple hours later.

The highlight of the day was lasagna lunch at Judy’s, Raymond’s daughter.  Raymond used to be Dad’s roommate, but he eventually qualified for Medicaid and was moved to a different wing.

Also attending lunch were Judy’s mother and Judy’s aunt, a retired nun.  Both ladies have apartments in the independent living section of Victory Lakes.  We sat down to visit a bit before lunch and bingo…it was clear they were on a sort of campaign to help Mom see how much easier things could be if she had an apartment at Victory Lakes.

“Do you live independently?” they asked.

“Yes,” Mom said.  “And I drive, too.  I like my place.”

“Isn’t it getting too much to care for?”

“No.  It’s small.”

“Are there stairs?”

“Yep.  Upstairs and downstairs.  I go up and down at least 5 times a day,” Mom said.

“Yes she does,” I added.  “That’s probably why she is so healthy.  She loves to clean, too.”

Mom made it clear she is happy where she is, does not want to move, and is managing just fine.

So Judy took another tactic, explaining that before deciding on Victory Lakes, they looked at other places…but Victory Lakes was only a 20 minute drive.  “How long does it take you to drive up?” she asked me.

“Eight and a half hours,” I said.

Mom didn’t get the point, but it was kind of these ladies to make an effort to talk about how convenient it is to live at Victory Lakes in the independent living apartments.

Lunch was delicious and we told stories about growing up…teaching…buying cars…families.  We had a wonderful time and Mom kept saying how nice they were…so genuine and down to earth.  Mom does not currently have that kind of socialization…and it is so important.  She loved it.

I loved it, too, and I loved the ladies’ effort to steer Mom to the idea of living at Victory Lakes.  During a tour of her home, Judy showed me a guest room with a day bed in it…in case things change for my Mom and the house is sold…I am welcome to stay with her when I visit.  Very thoughtful.  Very generous.  How wonderful to have a new friend in this area and such support from her family.

I’m in Love with a Chipmunk

For years, a chipmunk has scurried around my folks’ little patio outside from time to time.  We only see one and I’m sure it’s not the same one.  I’m talking decades.  We have no chipmunks where I live, just squirrels.  This little guy/gal was so adorable!  He/she found the scattering of bird seed I put out on the patio and binged with vigor.  I managed to get a photo.  Wish it could have been more of a close up.

chipmunk april 2016

Also took some starts from Mom’s patch of garden next to the patio.  Plan to take them back to Missouri and plant them in the garden areas of my little rental home.  Not sure when I’ll be able to go back.

starter plants april 2016

 

Wednesday, April 20, 2016 – evening

Annual Exam

This was a busy but productive day that began with Mom’s annual exam with Dr. Gupta.  Dr. Gupta was very thorough in reviewing the report on Mom’s blood work. Test results looked just fine, although she should be drinking more water.

Then the doctor moved on to a more extended look at Mom’s memory and balance functioning.  She gave Mom two words to remember and asked Mom to pick a third…so a total of three words to remember: pen  mouse  house.  Then she asked Mom to draw a clock that read 3:30.  It took Mom a while to remind herself of where three is on the dial…and where the minute hand should go.  I thought she did a pretty good job, but the doctor said it didn’t clearly look like 3:30.  It looked more like 6:15.  She asked Mom to do it again and to make the hour hand and minute hand different sizes.  Mom did a better job.

Dr. Gupta had Mom stand with her eyes closed and her hands up.  The doctor was there to catch her if she lost her balance and told her she would be safe.  Mom did ok…waivered a bit.  The doctor asked her how it felt and told her she waivered some.

Then Mom was asked to leave the room and walk down the hallway.  The doctor followed. I suppose Dr. Gupta was checking her gait.  When they returned, Mom was asked to remove her shoes and knee hi stockings.  Dr. Gupta took an object that had a tiny, flexible plastic thingy at the end of it.  She ran it up and down Mom’s leg and ankle area touching her skin here and there, and asked if she could feel it.  Mom said, “No.”  Dr. Gupta continued asking where Mom could or could not feel it.  Mom occasionally felt it.  Then Mom was told to close her eyes and if at any point she felt the object touching her skin, she was to say “Yes.”  She didn’t say yes.  Dr. Gupta touched Mom’s foot area.  Mom said nothing.  Then Dr. Gupta asked her…”Are you feeling anything at all?”  Then Mom haltingly said yes, she felt a little.

Then came “the talk.”  Essentially, Dr. Gupta said she wanted further testing for memory and Mom immediately shook her head no and clammed up.  Even though Mom claimed that nothing was wrong with her brain, I admire the firm and consistent manner with which Dr. Gupta stayed with Mom…telling her that if she was Mom’s daughter, she would want to make sure everything was okay…it’s routine testing and some of it is quite interesting and even fun.

At one point Mom reached for her jacket and I thought she was going to bolt, but she sat and continued to listen to Dr. Gupta’s reasoning for more testing.  Mom finally said, “I’ll think about it.”   We were given the name and phone number of the Thomson Memory Center where neuropsychologists conduct a variety of testing on people of all ages with various conditions.

When we left, Mom was quiet.  I was, too.  We didn’t discuss the visit.  I didn’t say anything about needing to make an appointment.  We headed off to see Dad.

 

Dad was in the dining room having lunch when we arrived.  He had picked at meat loaf and mashed potatoes.  When Mom sat down to keep him company, she managed to get him to eat a few more bites and then he had some cherry cobbler.

When we took him back to the community room in his wing, we settled in to just visit.  Dad quickly fell asleep.  I waved at Wanda and she waved back.  That was nice.  She has been rather sullen and quiet for a few days.  I walked over to her and asked if I could sit down.  She smiled and we proceed to visit and chat like a couple of sorority girls.  I wasn’t too clear of the topics most of the time or exactly what she was saying or asking, but I gave it my best.  I answered questions, gave opinions, and laughed when she laughed.  She was really in her element and we both had fun.  “You’re my partner!!” she said with a big smile.  “You betcha, Wanda.”

While visiting with Wanda I looked up to see both Mom and Dad napping a bit. I think the doctor’s visit wore Mom out a bit.

Mom and Dad napping 042016

 

Chat with the Administrator

At 2:30 today, we were scheduled to meet with Jeanne, the new administrator at Victory Lakes.  She had come to know my Mom and thought it would be good for the three of us to have a chat since I was in the area.  I welcomed this opportunity with open arms.

We met for about 45 minutes and at first chatted a bit about Dad being here.  Then I steered the conversation to how the past year has been difficult for Mom.  Jeanne took over and we had what in essence was a meaningful family counseling session.

Jeanne probed a bit and helped Mom identify three options she would consider for the future in the event that she was no longer able to live alone: having help at home, living in the Victory Lakes community close to Dad, and moving both herself and Dad to Missouri to be closer to me.  When asked which she would prefer, Mom said she would prefer to stay at home and take care of Dad herself.  She tried making the case that she can still take care of Dad by herself, but Jeanne countered with points of reality.  Mom dug in her heels, and her feelings were gently validated by Jeanne.

Mom was able to hear me say that my goal is to have both her and Dad safe and to keep them together.  I also talked about how difficult it was to be 400 miles away and expect emergency phone calls at any time.  Then I took the opportunity to stress that I wanted to follow Dr. Gupta’s recommendation and go ahead with the referral visit…that it would give me peace of mind.  Mom agreed.  “I don’t want to, but if you want me to I will.”  She tried bargaining for three more months “to see how things go,” but I stressed the need to follow the doctor’s orders and make the appointment.

It was a meaningful and helpful visit guided by a very knowledgeable and dedicated professional.  Mom and I both cried at time, and I’m very grateful for the guidance, understanding, insight, and kindness given.

After our visit with the administrator, we said goodbye to Dad and went home.  As I drove I was trying to imagine what was going through Mom’s mind what with the doctor visit…referral for more tests…meeting with the Jeanne.  I was imagining the worse…something like, “I don’t care what any of those people say; I’m going to do what I want to do.  I’m fine.”

Instead, she sat back and calmly said, “Well, this was a nice day.  We got a lot done.”     Yup.

Most likely, in a little while she will not remember the additional testing she agreed to do, but I’ll just refer to it as “finishing the annual exam that Dr. Gupta wanted us to do.”  Tomorrow morning I’ll make the appointment.  With luck, it won’t take forever to get the appointment.  With luck, Mom will grudgingly go and complete whatever tests are given.

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Parental Journal 50 from Planet Elderly – “Mom, You Need to Leave the Area Now and Calm Down.”

Posted on April 19, 2016 by Jenny Mummert

Monday, April 18, 2016   evening

The first week of each visit is typically the “honeymoon” time.  Mom and I both try to be extra nice and polite; however, bits of reality start to grate on each of us and we both get somewhat frustrated at times.

Today was memorable.  Dad did not eat much at lunch and Mom did pretty well at containing her frustration.  She had put her sweater on him during lunch because he was chilly.  After lunch she obtained his sweater, and in the process of her trying to get her sweater off of him, her finger nail accidentally scratched Dad’s arm.  He yelled and was angry.  Her lips tightened and her eyes became large.  I thought she was going to yell back.  Instead, she threw his sweater at him.  I spoke up immediately:  “Mom, you need to leave the area now and calm down.”  She did.  She walked down the hall.  Then she promptly walked back with a tight lipped angry look and plopped herself down in the chair next to Dad.

This all happened in front of some staff, visitors, and other residents, most of whom would not have been aware.  Staff and visitors were aware, though.

The event closed with me trying to explain to Dad that it was an accident…asking if his arm was okay…etc.  He seemed fine and Mom went to his room to collect his daily laundry.  While she did that, I notified a nurse of the incident.  Then Mom marched back to Dad with the bag of dirty laundry.  She plopped it on his lap and said, “This is what I do for you.  I hope you appreciate it.”  Then she stormed off. Dad just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as if to say, “I don’t know what the hell is going on.”  And he didn’t.

Three hours later everything was calm at home and Mom said, “Gee, it seems like it’s been so long since I’ve seen Dad.”

“Well,” I said, “we were with him for three hours today…and you weren’t exactly happy when we left.”

No response.  She just focused on her ham sandwich.

 

Observations/Incidents

Overnighter

The other day a nurse’s aide I had never met before came over and asked, “Did your mother tell you she came to visit Victor at 8 o’clock one night?”

“No…..she doesn’t usually drive at night.  When did this happen?”

“A couple weeks ago.  She came in and I said, ‘Pearl!  What are you doing here?  Victor is in bed asleep.’   I didn’t want her to drive home, so I gave her a blanket and let her sleep in the chair over there.”

I looked over at Mom.  “So…you came to visit one night at 8 p.m.?”

“I guess so.  I missed him.”

More Stashed Cash

While searching for a checkbook she misplaced, she brought out more envelopes with cash.  She claimed she had no idea where the cash came from and agreed that we should take it to the bank the next day.  We did so this morning. I felt so frustrated.  I’m starting to have some tearful moments.

Checkbook?  What Checkbook?

It used to be several times a week, but lately it’s been three to five times a day.  Mom will walk into the living room and say something like, “You know, I want to have my own money.  I want my own checking account so I can see how much is in there.”   So I remind her that she has a checking account…again and again and again.  She will make a frown and then head upstairs to look for it.  Sometimes she finds it; sometimes she needs help and we look together.  We will go over the bank books she has, I have her read the notes I have taped on each one, and then she puts them away.  Two hours later…”You know…I need my own checking account.”

Although she has some accounts, I share responsibility for all but one and I take care of accounts for household expenses and Dad’s care.   For now she has her own bank books, but that may change.  We may have to set her up with her “new” bank account down the road.  The good news is that she is not a spender.  As a child of the Great Depression, she is extremely frugal.

Guess Who’s Coming for Pie?

On Friday Mom took a phone call upstairs.  She came down a little later and said, “Chris is coming over tomorrow around 5.   I’m not sure who Chris is…maybe she’s Carol’s daughter.  We should get a cake or pie or something.  We’ll have to use some of your coffee.”

So on Saturday we were ready with a heated Sara Lee apple pie.  Five o’clock came and went.

“Maybe it was 6,” Mom said.  “You know, I didn’t recognize her voice.”

Six o’clock came and went.

“What did she say to you when you spoke to her?” Mom asked.

“I didn’t speak to her, Mom.  You did.”

“I did?”

Dad Has a Girlfriend

This is an idea that is stuck in Mom’s mind.  She doesn’t talk about it much, but the other day she just blurted it out.  “Dad has a girlfriend.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Oh…I’m sure that’s upsetting.  How do you know?”

“Because he’s never here.  He never comes home.”

“Well, he lives at Victory Lakes now, Mom.”

“Yeah…well, he can get around if he wants to.  It happens.  I just have to live with it.”

 

Yes…and like millions of other families in our situation, we just have to live with it…with the confusion, the forgetting, the mood swings, the delusions, the denials, the frustrations and the fear.  I just wish I could find a way to make the coming weeks and months easier for Mom.  Best I can do is fasten my seat belt.

 

 

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