Parental Journal 19 from Planet Elderly: Mom Doesn’t Want To Talk About It

Posted on August 23, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

Been treading murky waters with Mom. It’s difficult to see her so confused at times. Yet her mindset is saying: I must learn to do and manage everything myself.

I decided to plant a big seed the other day. I calmly and gently spoke to Mom about my concerns about her short-term memory and the confusion she has about bank books and mail. I told her there are different things that can cause this…like stress, depression, loss of sleep, medicines… and that I’d like her to see a doctor.

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about memory ever again and I will not ask you for help ever again. I won’t even call you. I will not go to any doctor appointment…and I hope you just leave tomorrow.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m trying to be calm, Mom. I’m not the only person who is concerned.”

“Who…who else is concerned?”

“Kevin, Marci, Carol, Barbara, the staff at Victory Lakes…”

“Nobody has to be concerned. I think I’m doing pretty well under the circumstances.”

“Yes…you’re doing fine with most things, but when you continue to get appointments, times, and dates confused…when you have trouble understanding the mail…when you get lost driving…these are of concern.”

“Well, you don’t need to be concerned about me. Just go home and leave me alone. I feel like you’re always watching me.”

”I’m sorry. Yes, I do watch…and so do others. We’re concerned…and in some ways I’m responsible for you.”

“No you’re not!!”

“We’re family and family look out for each other.”

“We’re not family!!”

“Oh…you mean I’m adopted????”

Then she got sheepish…”No, you’re not adopted. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Ok. I’ll just go read.”

Mom went upstairs and watched TV for about a half hour.  An hour later we were sharing a pizza and chatting as usual. The next morning, not a word was said about my first mention of getting some professional help. In fact, she came down the stairs like June Cleaver and sang, “Good morning! How are you today?” I’m not sure she remembered the conversation, and she hasn’t brought it up since.

I stayed home the next morning and let her visit Dad by herself. I made some meals for later and did some writing. I needed time away from her and time to be just by myself. I also made a list of commonly called phone numbers for her and I used bold blue marker. It’s taped onto the refrigerator where it can be easily seen. I made a typed list a couple months ago, but it’s nowhere to be found.

When she returned from visiting Dad, Mom entered with a bunch of mail and was flustered. She has to have her eyes examined again and her doctor has to verify that her vision is fine. This needs to be done by October 31 or she will lose her license and privilege to drive. She panicked saying she needed to schedule an eye appointment. I have told her several times that she has an appointment on Oct. 6, but she forgets or ignores the reminder. She wanted to call the eye doctor, but she could not remember his name. She kept calling him Schaefer, but that’s her doctor for female matters. I told her the eye doctor’s name and referred her to the new phone list. She called to make an appointment and was told she already has one on Oct. 6. We taped the letter and the form her doctor has to fill out to the refrigerator so it will not get lost.

Another piece of mail required her to contact the gas company to schedule an appointment to have the meter and any gas appliances checked. The company is doing a major project. She was given a web address, but doesn’t have a computer. A phone number was also given…and she spent over 20 minutes trying to dial the toll free number and navigate the phone tree…which, of course, referred her to the web site. I so admire her determination. I would have thrown the phone against the wall, but although she was ticked off and kept shouting, “I don’t have a computer” to the phone tree, she did okay. On the fourth attempt, she reached a human who told her to ignore the notice…that she would receive another letter later.

And then she received a statement from one of the banks. She claims she never receives paper statements, but here one arrived and I coached her (again) on how to compare the statements with the bank books…and not to worry if there was not a perfect to-the-penny match. She has a difficult time 1) identifying amounts deposited from amounts deducted on bank statements, and 2) using a calculator, but she says, “I have to learn how to do this.” When she finishes, she has me check things over and it’s usually fine, although a bit difficult to read. She’s doing what she can now and she needs the freedom to learn and do what she can…even if her pace and method drives me nuts at times.

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Parental Journal 18 from Planet Elderly: Mom Turns 89 and Dad Chats On

Posted on August 18, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

Tues. Aug. 18, 2015 8:30 a.m.

Mom’s birthday on Sunday went well. We had a nice visit with Dad, who chatted away like a game show host. He gave her a birthday kiss when prompted and then he said, “All I know is these are the best girls.”

Mom enjoyed a late lunch at Emil’s; later we went to her friend Toni’s and brought the lemon meringue pie to share. In the evening she became frustrated with bits of paper and complained about money again, so I showed her the summary sheet of accounts I wrote the day before and we reviewed the bank books. Then she felt a little better.
When visiting Dad we tried to tell him about a beautiful yellow bird that was feasting on coneflowers planted near the little patio. It didn’t commute completely, but he took each of our hands and said, “Here are some pretty beautiful birds.” Then he chuckled.
Dad chatted on…quite alert as he looked around the community room. “I was here last night, I think.” When a staff person brought in some lunches, he said, “Oh, he doesn’t look very happy.” Then he told us several times to “Just take good care of yourself.”

After lunch, things were a bit more difficult for Dad. He knows he’s not at home and he’s trying to figure out where he is and why he is there. He is also concerned with what he is supposed to be doing. “Where am I supposed to be tonight?” he asked. We explained that he would stay there.

“Here? Why?”

“This is where you are safe. Mom is too small to take care of you.”

“What is this place?”

“This is Victory Lakes.”

“Oh,” he replied. “Where is it located?”

“In Lindenhurst,” I said.

“Oh, my. Really?”

“Yes, but it’s near Grayslake.”

“Oh, that’s good,” he said.

We tried to leave with the usual explanation that we had to go do laundry, but he became agitated.

“Wait a minute! What are we doing? What am I supposed to do?”

Mom teared up and tried to speak with him, but then she had to walk away. I spent about 30 minutes gently repeating the same things to him over and over…that he will stay here where he is safe…it is a long-term care residence…the staff help him…everything is ok…we will see him tomorrow. Over and over and over.

He listened so earnestly and simply could not remember what he was just told. At one point he asked for my phone number in case he needed to call me, so I wrote my name and phone number on a piece of paper, then I wrote the words “Victory Lakes” and “Long-term care residence.” He studied the piece of paper and read it aloud over and over and over…trying to make sense of it. He settled down a bit and then I left to join Mom who was down the hall. She felt incredible guilty seeing him so confused.

When we arrived yesterday, the staff told us that Dad continued to be agitated after we left. He tried several times to get out of his wheelchair and needed a lot of calming down. They ordered an anti-anxiety medicine to have on hand in case his agitation continues.
While visiting before lunch, Dad talked on and on about his brother, John, and how John knew “the greatest guy in the world,” referring to himself, of course. “John had the best of everything…but I was the greatest. I guess we just ended up in the best category: The greatest guys. Victor is the handsome one…and the most honest. I’m the guy who knows everything.” Then he laughed.

These days when I visit and he is so chatty, I write down what he says. I find it fascinating and I often wonder if that will be me in years to come. Mom worries about the same thing. She looks around and says she does not want to “end up in a place like this.”

More of Dad’s comments: “I’ve been eating different foods in the restaurant. Boy, some of them are so weird, you don’t know if you want to eat it or not.”

When he saw Mom walk toward him he said, “Boy, looks like she’s a little wild.” Mom’s white hair is sparse and it was windblown. Later, when he saw various aides wheel other residents around, he loudly said, “Gee, those ladies look pretty big.” While waiting for lunch to be served he looked around and commented, “Here’s a yard with a little bit of everything in it.” During lunch Mom reminded Dad that yesterday was her birthday. Because of his loss of hearing she had to repeat herself, but eventually he asked, “Oh…your birthday? Well, happy birthday.”

One improvement is that Mom is beginning to understand that Dad speaks from what he perceives at the moment. I’m trying to coach her to not take what he says personally…he just says what he’s thinking at the moment…like the comments about other people. Of course, I’m also coaching myself not to take what she says personally, especially when she gets confused and/or upset and lashes out.

Meanwhile, at home Mom is vacuuming every day. It’s just something she does. This morning she was awake very early, so after we went to Jewel for a few things, she said she was going to lie down for a while. Five minutes I heard the vacuum cleaner. When she finished I kidded her. “I think you have a love affair with your vacuum.” “I do,” she said with a giggle.

As I write, she is sitting in a chair and snoozing—finally. She has a doctor’s appointment at 11, but keeps thinking it is at 9. I’m concerned that she is so easily confused with appointments and days and times. She has two other things on the calendar for next week, and then she won’t have any appointments for a while. She can follow her usual routine of visiting dad and going to the grocery story. With luck, maybe she and her friends Toni and/or Dorothy will schedule some time together.

As of today, I’m planning to visit again in October for a week or so, just to check in and help with any mail she’s confused about. Mostly likely I’ll return for the holidays. Last year Mom and Dad were together at home. This is the first time in 60 years they will be apart over Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I want to be here to make sure they have plenty of time together despite what kind of weather there might be. Mom won’t drive if it’s too rainy or if it’s snowing, so over the holidays I can assist with that. Plus, it may be the last time we can be together for the holidays. I’ve been saying that for several years now.

Time is precious. Events are unpredictable.

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Parental Journal 17 from Planet Elderly: Visit #4 Starts With a Warning Ticket

Posted on August 16, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

August 15, 2015 4 p.m.

It’s been around 5 weeks since my last visit. Dad is doing well in the skilled nursing facility. Mom is often an emotional wreck, and her cognitive functioning seems to be quite shaky at times. When I arrived on Thurs. she said, “I got pulled over by a cop today. He was nice. He just gave me a warning.” Then she showed me the bright yellow warning card. According to Mom, she tried going through a yellow light and got caught. I tried doing the same decades ago and I got a ticket.

Our first couple days went smoothly. Mom was relaxed, but in the evenings she would talk about how “foxy” Dad is. She’s convinced he’s driven somewhere, has called places to have mail delivered, is writing and sending away for information, and that some lady was calling for him for a couple weeks, but has now stopped. When I suggested that perhaps it was a telemarketer, she flashed me a look of steel and said, “Oh no. Not the way she used her sweet voice and said, “’Is Victor there?’”

Last night I spent some time with her bank books. She rarely writes checks, and when she does she has difficulty entering the correct information in the ledger. When I finished I was able to show her the balances that were fairly accurate. She became sullen and talked about how she doesn’t have any money…that she tries not to use any money because it’s not really hers. She thinks that if she uses any money for herself she is “stealing from Dad.” She feels betrayed by Dad because he didn’t teach her about their finances other than to give her a $20 allowance each week…and then he stopped doing that. She does not realize he stopped doing that because he had dementia. Then she cried about how he never thanks her…she feels like nothing…she’s scared of all the medical bills that may come in…and how it would all be better if she were dead.

It’s very sad to see my mom so depressed and despondent, but also unwilling to talk to anyone about how she feels. She only talks to me when I visit. She has a set routine each day and she tries to stick to it as much as possible…but she is miserable and will not accept help or suggestions from anyone.

On the plus side, we had a great visit with Dad today. He knew her and praised her. He kept asking me if my world was okay. I assured him it was. I asked how his world was and he said it was just fine. Then he looked at Wanda across the room and said, “Boy, that guy over there. He sure is weird. He gets angry a lot.” I tried to tell him Wanda was a she, but it didn’t compute.

I told Dad that tomorrow is Mom’s birthday. He couldn’t hear very well, so I had to repeat myself. It did not seem to register, so I asked him how old he thought Mom would be tomorrow. “Hmmmmm…let me think about that.” Then he thought a bit and said something about the world…his world…my world. He had the word “world” stuck in his vocabulary today. But he smiled and laughed and it was a fun time…just chatting away with him on whatever topic he thought was worth a comment. He seemed content, happy, relaxed and he had a good lunch. His eyes are bright and he gives direct contact. I am fascinated as I watch him observe, comment, and smile. And he often pats my hand. He may not know my name, but he seems to know me.

Mom and I had leftover tacos for lunch and I started making a lemon merengue pie. Her friend, Toni called and said she had fresh tomatoes to drop by. When she arrived, we had a nice visit…just three gals chatting away…laughing. Toni’s husband died two years ago. She and Mom could have some quality time together if Mom could loosen up her rigid schedule. I think it would be a good idea to invite her over for a lasagna dinner. Mom would love it.

Later, when Mom was ironing Dad’s clothes she had washed, she got into a panic. She found pajamas she had never seen before. “We have to go take them back,” she insisted. I suggested we could just take them tomorrow, but she went ballistic and said she would take them herself and that I didn’t have to go along. I asked her not to yell at me. Then I tried a second time to get her to relax a bit and consider just bringing the clothes tomorrow, but it was her way or nothing. She knew the pajamas were not Dad’s, but there is only one pair, and if he has used them he will need them again because he doesn’t have another pair. (huh???) So I let her pack up the ironed clothes and leave.

Interestingly, she managed to find the red wallet we could not find earlier today even though we looked everywhere together, so she had her driver’s license and could drive legally. It’s not good for her to drive when she is upset, but I refuse to get caught up in her undertow today. Storm clouds are brewing outside. I just hope she takes her time, makes the trip safely, and that any rain holds off.

Sometimes when I’m here I feel like I’m watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Things I’ve noticed during the first few days of this visit:

1. Mom claims she needs shoes and hasn’t been shopping in months. I reminded her that she bought two pairs of shoes in the last couple months. She refused to believe me until I showed her the shoes. Then she seemed surprised and delighted.

2. She seems hyper-sensitive to receiving any kind of assistance. She yelled at me in the Jewel parking lot this morning because I reached my hand out to her to receive two plastic bags she was holding, and she yelled that she could put them in the car by herself.

3. She has two doctor appointments written on her refrigerator calendar. They were made months ago. She continually forgets that the appointments have been made and talks about needing to make the appointments…until I remind her that they are already scheduled.

4. In addition to the calendar on the refrigerator, she has three small calendars scattered on the dining room table. None of those are completely accurate, but she often stops to study them.

5. She keeps minimal food in the refrigerator and states that she’s just too busy to go to the store. Then she worries about not gaining weight.

6. She often talks about being exhausted and “worried sick.” When I ask what she’s worried about she says, “Money.” She is fine financially, but refuses to believe me. Her early years of poverty during the depression create a continuing story in her mind: I have no money.

5 p.m. – Mom is back and is fine. Turns out the pajamas were Ray’s…Dad’s roommate…and when Mom arrived, Ray’s wife was in a tizzy because Ray’s clothes were missing. Mom handed her freshly washed and ironed pajamas…and all was well. Mom scooted back home quickly before any storm started. “I hope you’re not mad at me for going,” she said. “Nope,” I said. “You just did your thing and I’m glad you’re back safely.”

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Parental Journal 16 from Planet Elderly: Preparing for the Next Visit and More Confusion

Posted on August 10, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

August 7, 2015 10:30 a.m.

I’ve been able to be in Missouri for several weeks and things in Illinois have been fairly quiet.

Mom and I agreed that if she needs me, she’ll call.  There were few calls at first and I didn’t call her every day because I didn’t want her to think I was hovering over her.  She wants to be independent.  There have been a few more calls lately, which give me pause for concern.  No new concerns…just the same old, same old.

Mom called to say she has no money.  She’s worried about bills.  I explained that she does have money and where she agreed to keep her bank books.  She sounded frustrated.  Said she was mad at me because I moved the money around.  I explained that I have not touched her funds.  I helped to set up automatic bill pay, and we consolidated Dad’s two accounts so that there would be a source to pay for his long-term care.  No matter how many times I explain this, she still forgets.

During Mom’s calls she continues to say she wants to run away.  Getting mail, understanding what each piece of mail is, keeping track of bank accounts…it continues to confuse her because she has never had to do it.  I think this is a common problem for women of my mom’s generation who suddenly find themselves responsible for financial, mail, and household matters.   I have offered to manage all the mail, banking, and bills whenever she wants me to, but so far, I serve as coach while she routinely forgets what she supposedly learned with each of my visits.

I received a call from one of her banks yesterday.  She arrived with her neighbor, Kevin, and asked for bank statements, claiming that she does not receive a monthly statement in the mail.  She does.  We have reviewed them in the past, but she forgets that she receives them.  I have no idea what she does with them.  It is clear that she has not remembered to review each statement, and enter auto paid bills in her checkbook.   They printed out bank statements for the last three months for her. Apparently, Kevin was introduced as her grandson.  Since they did not know him, they called me after she left.  I explained that Kevin was not her grandson.  He’s her neighbor who has been helping her for many years, and yes, I know she receives their statements, but she doesn’t think she does.

This morning Mom called to ask what day I’m coming.  I said next Thursday, August 13.  “I don’t even know what day it is today,” she said.  “I use to cross off the days on the calendar to help me remember.”  Then she told me of two doctor appointments she has on the 17th and 18th…plus an oil change on the 14th…and it all sounded so overwhelming to her.

Mom turns 89 on August 16.  I’m hoping she will have a happy birthday.  I know she’ll receive cards and calls.  I plan to take her out to dinner on her birthday and to a movie sometime during my visit.  I also bought her a nice trench coat so that she’ll have a raincoat for rainy days in fall, spring, and summer.  While I’m up there, I plan to make some of her favorite foods.

Speaking of food, I told her not to bother shopping for food before I arrive.  Her response:  “I’m not shopping for food.  I haven’t been to the store.  I don’t feel like eating.  I just want to run away.”

Oh, how I wish I could find a way to bring them willingly to Missouri.  Long-term costs would be less, and everyone’s stress level would be greatly reduced.  Instead, I’m 400 miles away and unwilling to give up my life and move up there.  Mom is unwilling to move to Missouri, and I understand that.  The best that could happen would be that she would decide to move to independent living and let me take care of the mail and finances.  That’s unlikely to happy any time soon.

Mom recently visited her friend, Dorothy, who lives in the independent living section of Victory Lakes.  According to Mom, they had a nice visit and a wonderful meal.  She liked what she saw.   What she did not tell me was that she had difficulty finding the right building.  The social worker called to tell me about Mom’s latest confusion.  Mom arrived at 8:15 for an 11 a.m. visit with Dorothy.  After the visit, Mom could not find her car.  Staff assisted her and all was fine.

I’m looking forward to this upcoming visit.  It will have its difficult moments, but also is fun moments.  Overall, I feel a kind of sadness that my mom is so anxious and stressed all the time and that she allows minimal assistance.  It’s so difficult to hear her say, “I don’t know what day it is” or “I just want to run away.”  I hope I can lighten her load a bit while I’m up there.

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Parental Journal 15 from Planet Elderly: Confused Thoughts, Failed Filing System, and Old Bourbon

Posted on August 8, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

June 30, 2015  afternoon

This two-week visit is coming to an end.  Dad’s birthday is tomorrow and I return to MO on Thurs. July 2.  My next scheduled visit is Aug. 13 – 20 for Mom’s birthday on the 16th…unless some emergency surfaces.

The second half of this visit had a bit more drama and plenty of humor.  The drama comes from Mom…the humor from Dad.

Dad was a veritable comedian last week…chatting about how good looking he is and how all the gals like him.  He mentioned he liked the “young folks here” and thought it was “amazing that these houses can manage so many people.”  He greeted Mom by name and sometimes told her to “have a good time.  Everything’s okay.”  Then he’d chuckle and wink, “What a gal!”

This week he confused Mom and me.  He asked her if she’s still teaching.  Then when she told him she is Pearl, he asked if she still works for Walgreens.  Mom is doing better at realizing his comments come from where he is at the time.  At times she can kind of go along with a neutral response; at other times she thinks he’s asking her a direct and important question of relevance.   Yesterday he thought he was at Walgreens and kept mentioning “Mr. Petrie.”  At one time he asked, “Is that him?” when he saw another resident wheeling himself down the hall.  Mom said, “It better not be.  Petrie’s been dead a long time.”

The other day I told Dad that he has a birthday coming up and I asked him how old he’s going to be.  “18.   Yeah….I feel great!” then he laughed more.

More recently he’s been talking about going home.  This upsets Mom.  She would still like him to be home, but knows she can’t manage him by herself and she refuses to have in-home help. She cries when we leave him because she feels guilty when he says things like, “So what are we gonna do now?”  Today we tried not to mention that she was going home.  “I’m going to do your laundry.”   “Oh…that’s okay,” he replied.  “You gonna do it here or at your house?”

Dad is much more alert and talkative now than when he first arrived at Victory Lakes.  He’s thriving in some ways…but in terms of his communication process, it’s sad to watch him start a sentence or question and then be unable to finish it.  “Do you think that we’ll be able to…………oh…….I don’t know……..”   “I suppose it will be ok if…………uh……..if………”     “Maybe if it’s one and a half….”  Then there will be full sentences:   “I don’t even know my own name.”        “Wow!” when I bring him a glass water.   “You just do what you need to do.”      “There are a lot of people here. You can’t tell who is who.”  “I think I gotta go wee wee.”

Mom’s episodes of drama stem from her confusion about bills, statements, and bank books. This is ongoing.  We’ve gone over things many times…everything has a label…and there are notes and reminders.   With each visit I mention that I can take over managing finances whenever it becomes too much for her.  She doesn’t say no….because I know she wants to try to take care of things herself with just coaching from me. For now, practically everything is on auto pay except for an occasional medical bill that will come in or when she wants some cash on hand.  She has never had and does not want a debit card.  She would have trouble remembering a pin number anyway.  She does not believe in using credit cards.  A few months ago her bank set her up with a credit card so that she could more easily make payments if she’s shopping.  Now she no longer wants that.  She has never believed in using credit cards, and has done so only a few times in her life.  “Things can happen.  You never know.  If I need to buy something, I’ll pay cash.  If I don’t have the cash, then I won’t buy anything.”

I set Mom up with a little filing system using folders and a small plastic file box.  It confuses her, and with every visit I have to remind her of what’s there and why.  Then she feels better…until three days later when she forgets again.  Without the filing cabinet, there are things tucked in envelopes stashed in drawers or in boxes here and there.  At least the basic filing system helps me keep track of things…once I find old statements and put them in their proper file.  Mom seems to understand when I show her how to use it, but then she forgets about it.

We were in the closet the other day when I saw all these shoe boxes.  I asked if there were shoes in them because she’s been saying she has no shoes.  Sure enough…over 10 pairs.   When I looked at another area of the closet I thought a saw a bottle of liquor.  “What’s this?” I asked.  There were two bottles.  One was an unopened Jim Beam.  The other was still wrapped in Christmas paper, probably a gift from someone 15 or 20 years ago.  She told me to open it and we discovered a bottle of Southern Comfort.  “Take them home,” she said.  “I won’t use them.”  …and she won’t….although on occasion she has joined me in a glass of wine and seemed to enjoy it.  “This ain’t bad,” she often says.  We had “happy hour” yesterday after a particularly grueling session with some paperwork she did not understand.  She was a happy Chatty Cathy by the time she finished her little glass of wine. “Yeah….this tastes pretty good!”

Mom’s short-term memory problem is sometimes quite pronounced and at other times, not a problem.  For now, she continues to manage most things in a halting and shuffling way, but woe unto anyone who gets in her way.  I must say that with this visit she has been far less explosive and frequently thanks me for helping.  She has been more childlike.

Wed. July 1 2015 afternoon – Dad’s 93rd birthday

Well, it wasn’t the joyous day my mom expected, but it was what it was.  Dad said thank you to birthday wishes and cards, but he was agitated much of the time, trying to explain things he could not finish expressing.  We ate lunch with him, but he was not hungry, and when Mom tried to feed him something, he shouted at her.  So we had a little drama in the dining room.   It happens from time to time.  Mom, of course, was upset and ran off to cry.  When she returned she was angry and she told Dad never to yell at her like that again.  He just sat for a while and still did not eat.  Eventually he said something about being angry with Jeanette when he should have kept his mouth shut.  Ok!  He had the wrong person, but he knew he said something that hurt the feelings of someone else.  Mom held his hand, an attendant got him a small bowl of fruit and he ate most of it, and we returned to Unit C where I served pieces of cake to the residents.  Jan, a former school teacher, jumped up when she learned it was Dad’s birthday.  She took his hands in hers and sang Happy Birthday to him.  He was smiling.  We joined in with Jan.  Of course, ten minutes later Jan asked, “Aren’t we going to sing Happy Birthday to him?”  I told her we did already and she led the song.  “Oh.”    Five minutes later she asked if we were going to sing Happy Birthday…so I just repeated the message.  She seemed pleased that Dad had been sung to….”by someone.”

We learned that at breakfast the kitchen staff gathered at his table and sang Happy Birthday to Dad, plus staff placed a banner on his door.  So by the time we arrived, he’d been “birthday’d out,” so to speak.  Also, he was having BM issues and needed diapers and pants changed twice during our visit.  I’m sure he was ready for his nap after we left.

Just relaxing tonight with the usual…evening news.”Wheel of Fortune” (G.R.O.A.N…..) and whatever else might be on TV.  I try to find movies Mom might be interested in, but often by 8 p.m. or so, she is slumped in her chair with her mouth open…snoring away.

I’m planning on a 7 week stay in MO, but something tells me it will be interrupted.  Thus, it’s difficult to make definite plans.  I have another spot of basal cell skin cancer to be surgically removed on the 6th…then a few days of looking like I was in a street fight big time.  Once the stitches are out and the swelling goes down, I’ll feel like being more sociable.  Will likely inhale the third season of “Orange Is the New Black” while I sit around with ice packs.  Went through this in 2013; just very glad it’s the easiest kind of skin cancer to treat.

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Parental Journal 14 from Planet Elderly: “I Love You But This Is Tearing Us Apart”

Posted on August 7, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

Wednesday, June 24, 2015 early afternoon

I remember being quite anxious about making this trip up to see my folks.  Wanted to be with Dad for Father’s Day and his 93rd birthday on July 1, but not wanting to deal with Mom’s mood swings, yelling, and anger at being confused so often.  Actually, as I approached the Chicagoland area on my way up, I began a quiet mantra:  “It will be fine.  It will be fine.  It….Will…Be….Fine.”    And it has been; in fact, the visit has been almost golden.

Within twenty minutes of arriving, one of my tires went flat.  That could have happened on the toll road or on I-55.  I was relieved to have made the trip without a blowout.

Within a half hour of arriving, I realized the Mom I was interacting with was Mom from a couple years ago.  She was happy to see me…a little worried about Dad…and she just seemed to be much calmer.  What I think is happening is that she is getting tired…worn out…and she realizes that when I come to visit, I’m here to help.  She has her rigid routine and I don’t interfere; in return, I’m doing some cooking, most of the driving, and reviewing things she might have questions about in terms of mail or bank statements.  She has told me a few times that she’s glad I’m here…and we agreed that we are having a good time together because we’re both “behaving ourselves.”

When we went to see Dad on Father’s Day, Mom became angry because he would not eat much of his lunch.  She was personalizing this, as in, ”He’s punishing me by not eating his lunch because he doesn’t want to be here.”  Royal C.R.A.P.  … but it is her mindset of extreme guilt playing havoc with her thinking.  That’s my take on it, anyway.  Before we were ready to leave that day she told me to go get Dad and bring him to his room.  She wanted to have a talk with him.  She sat on his bed and I went down to the common area to get him while I wondered, “How are they going to have a talk???  He can’t hear and he can’t follow a conversation.  Wish I had a video camera.”

I steered Dad into his room where Mom was waiting on the bed…crying.  I took a seat in the corner of the room and kept out of the way.  Mom went on and on about what is happening to us…what you are doing is killing me…you might as well take a knife to me…do you want me to visit you or not?  Do you?!  … I love you but this is tearing us apart.   Etc. etc. etc.

Dad was wide eyed and struggled to 1) hear her, and 2) understand her.  He tried earnestly to respond…saying things like, “Well…I don’t know what to say.”   “Who took the ice?”   “It don’t matter.”  When Mom broke down and sobbed, he looked at her and simply said, “I love you very much.”  Well, it couldn’t have played out better in a Hollywood script.  She smiled and kissed him, stroked his face, and told him she loved him with all her heart.  He laughed and said, “What a gal.”  And the scene was over.  Mom was happy and Dad seemed to have the feeling that he had done something right.

Mom needs validation…especially from Dad.  She needs to know he loves her and is not mad at her for having him in a long-term care facility…that he appreciates all she does for him:  laundry and ironing every day, visiting him every day, and incessant worrying about far too many things she has no control over.  And each day since “the talk,” he smiles at her when she approaches him and says things like, “Here’s Miss Pearl!” ….  “She’s terrific.“ …”What a sweetheart.” …. and yesterday: “ I’ll love her forever.”   Well…how golden is all that?  He is her world and she’s happy to know how much she means to him.

I’m trying to gently coach Mom in the idea that if Dad does not have much of an appetite at lunch, then he’s probably just not hungry.  He eats a good breakfast, we’re told, and some dinner.  He’s doing fine with food for now.   I reminded her that Dad is not at all like Wanda or Ray or Ruth who just sit and stare at their food and occasionally take a few sips of chocolate flavored Boost.  A couple days I even suggested we visit in the morning and then leave before lunch…Monday before scheduled storms arrived, and today so she could go to the monthly bingo happening at one of the local banks. She liked the idea.  She thought I would join her at bingo, but I gently told her it’s not my thing…that I would hang out at the library and pick her up after bingo.  Actually, after I escorted her to the bingo room, I headed over to Jewel and bought a couple bottles of wine.  There will be wine with some sloppy Joe sandwiches this evening…and she’ll probably join me.  We’re eating mostly her type of menu items and I’m craving salad greens other than iceberg lettuce….but at least I talked her into letting me add some raw red cabbage which she strongly dislikes.

I do wish she would be willing to talk with her doctor about her mood swings and feelings.  She can get so quickly bent out of shape about minor things like only seeing one undershirt in Dad’s laundry.  Then she’ll go on a tirade and cry about not knowing where all his tee shirts are going and she’ll insist we get another pack…and when we go to put the new pack away the next day, there in a drawer are 500 tee shirts. Well, almost.  I remind her that she does his laundry every single day…so how many dirty tee shirts would she expect to find?  She just puffs up and shrugs her shoulders to acknowledge my point.

Mom seems to be doing fine with driving.  Her neighbor helps her get her car in and out of her tiny garage.  I think she gets a little lost now and then because she talks about so many green trees that some places don’t look familiar right away…until she finally sees a place that looks familiar.  No accidents.  No more escorts by the local sheriff department.  The short term memory loss is there (What day is it?  I need to get the mail…no Mom, you already picked it up.  I need to go to the bank for some money…no Mom, you cashed a check yesterday; you have money in your drawer.  Today is garbage day…no Mom…yesterday was garbage day.  Dad’s birthday is tomorrow…no Mom…his birthday is next Wed. July 1.  I need to get more ketchup…no Mom…you have five jars at home.  I do??  Yep…I guess you plan to make a lot of sloppy joe sandwiches.)….but despite such lapses, she is managing ok and, most of all, wants to manage things by herself.  I’ll continue to stay in the background and assist as needed.  I still fear being yelled at if I offer advice or suggestions she does not want to hear.

Today we ordered a birthday cake for Dad.  Will pick it up next Wed. and bring it over to his unit at Victory Lakes in the afternoon after lunch is served.

Gail is one of the caretaker staff.  He greets everyone with “God’s blessings to you,” and is very committed to the Franciscan Sisters’ mission statement of care. He’s also a history and news nerd, and a talented pianist.  I think he plays the organ for one or two area churches.  He owns an historic home in Waukegan and showed me photos from Thanksgiving dinner.  What I saw was a home seeped in historic details…and he loves maintaining its authenticity.

I think there are few people who believe it is their calling to do the kind of work he does.  He truly believes that.  He’s a good soul.

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Parental Journal 13 from Planet Elderly: The Sheriff Incident

Posted on July 31, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

Fri. May 22, 2015 7:30 a.m.

Have enjoyed a couple of weeks in mid-MO…but not enough time to see everyone, especially some grandchildren.

I was back in Columbia for two days when I called Mom.  She claimed to have “no money.”  I reminded her of where her bank books were…then she was less agitated.  Not good, I thought.  We have reviewed and drilled on basic money information many times when I was up there.  I’m concerned about her memory issues.  I was hoping I would not have that conversation while in MO…but it happened.

Yesterday I returned to Columbia from Linn, MO….ready to go food shopping for a weekend visit with two grandchildren Fri. and Sat.  when Victory Lakes called ….”about your mother.”  Apparently she was escorted to Victory Lakes by a Lake County Sheriff.  Story:  she was at a CVS pharmacy and asked for help because she was disoriented and confused.  They called the sheriff’s department and she told him she needed to visit her husband…so she was taken there.   Victory Lakes called me because they said she was agitated…had complained of a headache and knee pain…insisted on being brought to her car…but they did not believe she should drive.  I gave them neighbor Kevin’s phone number and he helped to get her home.  Before he arrived, the social worker spoke with Mom about everyone’s concern.  Mom promised to get checked out.

So Kevin got her home and then they went to the ER.  After I stopped in Springfield for the night, I returned a call from her.  She said everything was fine. (She had called Steve earlier in the day to tell him to tell me that I should not drive up…but as soon as I heard from Victory Lakes, I packed the car and took off…not really knowing what was going on. )  I told her I was in Springfield and that I had cancelled weekend visits with grandchildren, a dental visit Tues. and an annual medical exam Wed. because people are concerned about her confusion and wellbeing…so I’ll come up and hang out a while.   She seemed fine with that.

Had a restful night’s sleep at a Fairfield Inn Marriot…lovely room.  Nice dinner last night at Baker’s Square restaurant.  Now writing a bit and listening to CNN.  Waiting for morning traffic to subside and then I’ll be on the road again.

Thursday, June 18, 2015 late morning

The visit with my mom was a bit contentious. She clearly did not want me there.  When she first saw me her words were:  “Oh.  Hi.”  We had some difficult discussions the first day or so…talked about stuff we should have talked about decades ago.  For me it cleared the air, but for her it just added to her stress.  At least she knows why I never wanted to move “back home” after college and live close to my parents all these years…but she also knows I appreciate all she struggled with in order to provide for me.  I also learned that she was abused as a young girl and when I was quite young, she worried that the same person would abuse me.  He didn’t.  The visit was short, emotional and murky.

Have enjoyed some time in Missouri with family and friends…worked on some projects on Steve’s property…completed all my rescheduled dental/medical appointments…and now I’m getting ready to return to IL.  Plan to be with my dad for Father’s Day and for his 93rd birthday July 1.  Then I’ll return to MO.  Dermatologist discovered another area of basal cell skin cancer…so that will be removed July 6th.  Been through it before, so I know the drill.

Recent phone conversations with Mom have been interesting.  She keeps reminding me that she enjoys living alone in peace and quiet….she doesn’t want anyone cluttering up her refrigerator…she’s confused about banking/bill stuff, so I’ll assist with that when she asks me…often says “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” but refuses to speak with a counselor or to see a doctor about continual leg pain….told me she has had to glue her $2 shoes because she doesn’t have time to go shopping for shoes.  I offered to do Dad’s laundry when I come up so she can have a few hours to shop for shoes, but she said she will not have me doing his laundry.  I asked if she’ll let me do some cooking.  “I’ll think about it,” she said.  She’s quite lucid most of the time, but paranoid and defensive at other times.  She’ll still complain that she doesn’t see the pension checks even though I have explained many, many times that they are automatically deposited.  She was angry about that the other day and said she was going to go talk to the folks at Bank of America.  Not sure she went.  She’s also convinced that Dad calls places and has things done.  I just shake my head.  He can’t hear.  He can’t use a phone.  He can’t complete enough sentences to have a conversation.  But Mom insists.  “You don’t know him.  I do.  He probably has someone helping him.”  I simply sigh.

I’ll make it a two-day trip to get up there…start tomorrow and arrive Saturday.  In anticipation of the visit I am not sleeping well…but hoping that while I’m there I can remain somewhat patient and keep my mouth shut.

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Parental Journal 12 from Planet Elderly: Pals in Unit C

Posted on July 30, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

Fri. May 8, 2015 – 2 p.m.

Winding down a 7-week stay with my Mom. Monday I leave to go visit MO for what I hope will be about 6 weeks.

I’m going to kinda miss some of my “pals” in Unit C. First off, there’s Wanda. Wanda sits with a baby doll on her lap and frowns at people; however, she can, at times, engage in companionship. Both Mom and I have been honored guests at the chair next to her at her insistence. Wanda hates to have her blood pressure taken and yells as if being tortured. Getting her to take medicine is also quite a chore. She’s given supplemental drinks throughout the day because she barely eats anything. She barely drinks those either.
One time when I sat next to Wanda, she had her hand draped over mine while holding on to her baby doll with her other hand.

When Wanda invited Mom to sit with her recently, Mom went right over and started talking about the baby. Wanda asked Mom if she had a baby, and Mom pointed to my dad. “That’s my baby,” she said. “REALLY???” Wanda replied.

Then there’s a married couple, Joe and Jan. Jan used to be a teacher. They don’t share a room, but they are across the hall from one another. Joe is in a wheelchair and is quite hard of hearing. Jan is up and about all the time; never in a wheel chair, but she sits next to Joe and they have these conversations with each other…conversations they can barely hear. They sit together at a round table for their meals.  It’s kind of sweet watching them. He often reaches for her hand, and she fusses over him.

Last Saturday when we visited, Jan was walking around with a white cloth cleaning. It was Saturday, after all, and that was probably the weekly cleaning day in her life. I mean, she was really workin’ it…dusting this…wiping down that…totally in charge and not just slouching along. She was on a mission! Her own version of a white tornado!

Jan loves her purse, also. It’s kind of worn and tattered, but it’s never out of sight. If Jan is busy with something, Joe keeps it close to him. I was kind of curious as to what’s in the purse when she opened it the other day and started shuffling through bits of paper. It looked like scrap paper…or old lists…and she pulled a few out, studied them carefully, showed them to Joe…he nodded his head…then she tore up a couple and he agreed it was a good thing to do…and so forth.

Recently an aide came to take Joe’s blood pressure and Jan had questions for her.
“Where are we?”
“You’re at Victory Lakes,” the aide replied.
“Well, I don’t live here. How long are we staying?”
“Oh…you’re living here now, Joan. This is your new home.”
“Does my family know we’re here?”
“Yes, they do.”
“I don’t understand how we got here. Who made these arrangements?”
“Your children arranged for you and Joe to move here where you will be comfortable and safe.”
“Well, I was perfectly comfortable before.”
“Ok…done with Joe’s blood pressure. It looks good. Why don’t you wheel him over to your table because it’s almost time for lunch.”
“Oh. Okay.”

When Joan is in a good mood she walks with sort of a “bee bop” rhythm…smiling…heading over to Joe who looks up and smiles. She watches over him carefully and lovingly. At least they are somewhat in each other’s world most of the time.

I’ve created a my two mile walk about three blocks from where my Mom lives. It’s sort of a public park/beach/fishing area.  I usually see geese, but also saw a blue heron the other day. Beautiful. Of course, one has to side step the various droppings of geese poop along the path.

I’m ready to return to MO and recharge my battery. I’ve had a bit of an apprenticeship here on Planet Elderly, and a close up look at the country of dementia. It has all very much affected my thoughts about living and aging for whatever time I might have left.
I’ve written to a few friends saying that this has been the LONGEST week, but that’s because I am so looking forward to being in Missouri and slipping back into my own life for a while.

Sat. May 9, 2015 4 p.m.

When we walked into the facility late this morning to see Dad, there was music coming from one of the common areas. A mother/daughter act was providing entertainment and engaging residents in sing along with Elvis hits…as well as others. The daughter works for a cruise line. She sings and plays saxophone. Some of the residents were really rockin’ it…as best they could. Lots of smiles on the faces of Elvis fans.

I saw Joe and Jan after the performance and I asked Jan, “Did you enjoy the show?” Her response: “I have no idea.” Ah….life with dementia. At least she’s honest.

Dad’s doing ok. Unlike others, he has a great appetite and eats well. Like others, he does not like to take his medicine. Sometimes he gets a little mouthy about taking it, but in general they think he’s a sweet guy.

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, so I will do my very best to be a good shoulder/ear for Mom when she needs one…without explaining anything unless she asks me to. That seems to be her preference.  She’s been talking about wanting some pj’s, so I bought her some nice ones when I was in Normal, IL for a weekend with Steve. Will also take her out to dinner…and she’s been told three times that I am paying for the dinner, not her.

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Parental Journal 11 from Planet Elderly: A Frisky Day for Dad

Posted on July 29, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

April 30, 2014 5:30 a.m.

Into a fairly regular routine with its good days and bad days. When Mom gets snappy or angry about a question or suggestion, I just go into quiet mode. There’s no point in trying to explain when she is excited. She’ll just start yelling. She’s under a lot of stress and has always been easily excitable. It doesn’t take long for her to apologize, and when she does I say something like, “I understand. This is a difficult time for you.” Yesterday she got mad and told me to go home if I didn’t want to be there. No one wants to “be there” in this situation, but it is what it is. I told her to calm down and then I sat down while she cried. Eventually she calmed down enough and we had a good talk. It was almost like a mini counseling session because she talked about all the things she’s worried about. I just listened. I didn’t reassure or explain. She just needed an opportunity to verbalize what’s eating away at her inside.

Dad sleeps a lot and is on oxygen. Mom was told that the staff will stop giving him the medicine he gets that stimulates his appetite, so we’ll see how he does on his own. If he doesn’t eat, Mom will be quite upset. The medicine to reduce swelling in his legs is working well.

The Director of Social Services, Peggy, gave me two booklets that explain memory loss and Alzheimer’s. We were chatting recently and I mentioned that my Mom didn’t really understand Dad’s condition. The booklets have sat around for a few days. I, of course, read through them right away. Yesterday Mom looked at one. Both were set on the couch where I keep some of my electronic stuff, so I’m not sure she read the second one. My main source of information has been the book The 36-Hour Day, highly recommended on Amazon and by me. I mention it all the time to folks I meet at Victory Lakes.

Speaking of folks I meet, there is Gail. He’s in his 50’s I think and is a very dedicated “caretaker.” He assists the staff with getting residents in and out of chairs and beds…dressing…toileting…feeding, etc. His first words to anyone he meets for the first time is, “God’s blessings to you!” He’s a devout Christian…but not tolerant of evangelists we’ve seen on the TV screen Sunday mornings. He considers his work a calling and takes a personal interest in all the residents. I’d be interested in knowing more about his “story”…his life…because he is quite intelligent. We often discuss news events. Yesterday he showed me photos of his dining room table which was set for Easter dinner. He lives in a house once owned by his grandparents. It’s in a historic area of Waukegan and he has kept the Victorian look to a “T.” The pictures showed a very ornate and beautiful dining room. He’s quite proud of the house and his efforts to maintain historic integrity. He’s also an organist and pianist at church. There’s an old piano in the TV area, and one day he was sitting there playing a Barry Manilow tune. Of course, I stood by and hummed along. It was fun. Unit C at The Village at Victory Lakes is fortunate to have Gail on board. He’s a skilled caretaker who has a committed work ethic based on his faith.

Afternoon:

Well, hallelujah! We received two original copies of a letter from Dr. D. based on the draft I gave to his assistant, Jose . It states that dad is 92 and due to his medical condition, he cannot make decisions for himself, and it states that Dr. D. has been treating him for 17 years. Mission accomplished!

Dad was “frisky” today. It’s the first time I could use that word. When we arrived he was alert and looking around. We were told that there was a bit of trouble in the morning when he said he was going to hit someone. He’s not an eager medicine taker. Most there are not. It’s quite a challenge for the nursing staff at times.

Mom was beside herself with joy when she asked Dad, “Do you know who I am?” It took a bit, but he managed to say “Pearl.” Then he told her that she’s a good kid…smiled at her…wiggled his left index finger… winked…and then chuckled. Well, we all laughed.

A regular visitor came by this morning, as well. I’ve seen her before. She looks quite elderly and frail. She carries a purse on one shoulder and drags a small overnight case on wheels behind her. It’s her oxygen. She goes over to each resident and blesses each one. If the resident is awake, she introduces herself and asks how they are doing. Whether they respond or not, she gently tells them that she wishes them well and will keep them in her prayers. So she stopped by Dad and took his hand. He couldn’t hear her, but he was wide eyed as she conveyed her usual message. After she moved on to the next resident, Dad said, “Say…she’s a nice looking girl.” Of course, I practically roared , and my mom spoke up to remind Dad that she is the only one he’s supposed to say that to. Then I wondered: Is Dad going to be one of those dementia fellas who hits on ladies? Let’s hope not. At least he can’t walk by himself and chase anyone.

So…it was nice seeing Dad more animated today—much better than sleeping upright in a chair and not responding to Mom’s pleas to open his eyes and talk to her.

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Parental Journal 10 from Planet Elderly: Some Days Are Like Walking on Eggshells

Posted on July 27, 2015 by Jenny Mummert

Parental Journal 10

Fri. April 17, 2015 5 a.m.

After a few good nights’ sleep, I woke at 2…finally came downstairs and made some coffee around 3:30. What woke me up was the realization that I think I missed my granddaughter Laura’s birthday. Did not have it written down in my 2015 planner. I think it’s the 16th. Sent a text to her mom.

Mom did a solo trip to see Dad yesterday and as part of her trip, she filled up with gas and took some shredded documents to a recycling place. I typed directions to and from Victory Lakes, in case she needs them. So far, she’s doing fine.

While she was gone, I made an apple pie and some chicken enchiladas for our mid-day meal. It was her first taste of enchiladas and she liked it. We went back to see Dad in the afternoon and brought him a piece of pie. He was in bed…not sleeping…and Mom fed him the whole piece.

Mom knows full well that Dad needs to be where he is. She just continues to be riddled with guilt. I wonder if she might agree to go to a support group meeting in the future.

I’ve convinced her to accept my TV and DVD player. Will bring it back after my next visit to MO…which I hope will be right after Mother’s Day.

We spent a little time purging the other night. Dad compulsively clipped and saved recipes, specifically pie, bread, and cookie recipes. It was kind of nice looking through them. Before pitching them, I wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything important stuffed in the pile.

She gave me hand crocheted booties, mine when I was born. I was quite touched. They are beautiful and I want to get them framed. She also gave me the nightgown and robe from her wedding night. It’s probably a size 4…but I took it because she wanted me to have it.

Planning to meet my sweet man, Steve, next weekend in Normal, IL. Of course, plans could change with both our parental situations, but it would be nice to have some time together and walk around Illinois State University, my old stomping grounds.

Created a checklist for Mom in large font: When to pay each month’s condo association fee and when to pay quarterly taxes. She mentioned the other night needing to write down what is due when. There is a place where she can put a check mark and that will be her notation that she made the payment. With luck, she’ll actually put a check mark after each payment. Regular utilities are all set to be automatically paid each month. Medical expenses and expenses related to Dad’s care are the only other payments to make. She prefers working with cash for miscellaneous expenses like gas, food, medicine, etc., so she’s doing fine writing checks to give herself cash. Also, people at the bank can assist her. They know her and watch out for her. I don’t think she’s ready or willing for me to offer to take care of all the bill payments. Maybe down the road.

Mom says she doesn’t want to buy a new car because she’s not sure how long she’ll be driving. Good point. She is also thinking quite a bit about where she will be living in the future. On some level, the idea of a simple apartment appeals to her…no homeowner responsibilities. She has friends transitioning to that arrangement so she thinks about it a bit. At the same time, she talks about how easy her place is to manage and keep clean. Every now and then I remind her that down the road, my preference is to have her close to me in Missouri. That’s an option she’s considering, but as long as Dad is with us, she’s staying put and that’s understandable.

Sat. April 18, 2015 – afternoon

We visited a forest preserve today after spending time with Dad. I wanted to take a closer look at it because it has walking trails and some small fishing ponds. It’s nice; about a mile west on 120. I’m having strong needs to be near trees and water. This helped a bit, but it’s so congested here…traffic, traffic, traffic…even this far out…and TRAINS…long ones…that tie up traffic.  It drives me nuts.

Forsythia is blooming and daffodils. It seems so late compared to mid-Missouri, but it’s nice seeing trees getting full buds and weeping willows starting to green out.

Mom vacuumed today. And yesterday. And the day before. It’s a compulsion.  She prefers to vacuum every day and I grit my teeth. I suppose we’re all compulsive about some things now and then. Vacuuming is her labor of love…also mopping floors and doing laundry, which includes ironing. It’s how she was raised. I remember that she had me cleaning bathrooms with strong Lysol and Comet when I was 7, and we cleaned house – thoroughly – every week for years. I was so happy to go away to college and be free from weekly chores done on Saturdays when all my friends were outside playing.  I remember always having the feeling of wanting to break free.

Mon. April 20, 2015 7:30 a.m.

Mom has been restless the past couple nights. I’ve slept pretty well. She came down this morning and said, “Is it okay if I go back up to bed? I’m not feeling well.” She was having pain in her abdomen. She also mentioned having a funny feeling in her stomach a day or so ago. Tomorrow she has a physical, and I’ll encourage her to mention her discomfort to the doctor. Not that she will, of course, especially if there is no longer any discomfort. I wonder when her last colonoscopy was. My concern is that she eats more than I do and does not gain weight; plus, she feels hungry about every 3 or 4 hours. Also, for a few days she has complained of leg pain in her right leg.  It comes and goes.  Sounds like sciatic nerve.

Tues. April 21, 2015 – 3:30 p.m.

Mom had her doctor’s appointment. It was short and the doctor asked her nothing in terms of assessing her cognitive functioning. He said she looked thinner, so he agreed to weigh her: 89.5 lbs. He listened to her breathe, he checked her pulse, and he asked her if she had any questions for him. She did not. He gave her an authorization for a blood work up; said he the blood test would also include a thyroid check.

I left a draft letter with Jose, Dr. D’s office assistant. Efforts to get the lawyer to contact the doctor to write a letter certifying that Dad can no longer manage his affairs have been ignored. So I drafted a general letter and I hope Dr. D. will read it and agree to provide two original copies on his office stationery. We’ll see. I need to call the lawyer’s office again and get a little snarky: “So…” I’ll say to the receptionist. “It’s been three weeks since we made a request for something quite simple…any idea how long we’ll have to continue to wait?????”

Mom is back to saying she’d rather have Dad at home than to sit around “there.” She hates visiting…going back and forth…him not speaking much…and then having to watch and listen to the other residents. It’s very upsetting for her.  She would like to break free.

Dad was a little bright eyed after lunch, so I said, “Dad, did you have a good lunch?” His reply…”Oh, is it time for lunch?”

Mom vacuumed twice today. The second time she said there was a little black thing on the carpet. I sat on the stairs and grumbled to myself, ”This is nuts.”

She’s positively giddy about going to bingo tomorrow. Other than grocery shopping, it’s the only thing she lets herself do that doesn’t involve housework, laundry, or Dad. She expects me to play and even asked, “Do you and your friends go to bingo?” I was blunt enough to say, “No, Mom…we don’t feel we’re old enough for that yet.”

Will she agree to call a friend and go out to lunch or dinner? No

Will she let me take her to a movie? No

Can I convince her to wear another pair of knee hi nylons because her toes are sticking out of the holes in the old ones? No

Can I convince her to buy a new pair of shoes because the $2 shoes she got on special at a Garden Fresh grocery store last year are wearing out? No

How about buying a pair of Sketchers to replace the 40-year-old bowling shoes she sometimes uses in place of the $2 shoes? No

Things we always make sure we have on hand: Beefsteak rye bread, cream cheese, bananas, Hershey’s chocolate syrup and ice cream.

We brought a bag of nice chocolates to the staff in section C today. They were thrilled.

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