Sunday, February 1, 2015 

Forget all that peace stuff I said in my last post. I have had precious little sleep this week, about 2 hours a night. Then again, I might have fallen into an uneasy sleep somewhere during the night. But I could always hear mom. She goes to bed around 7:30 or 8:00 at night and spends most of the middle of the night roaming to the bathroom—2, 3, 4, 5 times. Each time, she slams the door as hard as she can. Even my worn out old towel atop the door is no longer doing the job. And she calls. She never remembers calling me when she gets up. She denies slamming the door. Mom has no memory of anything, ever.

I had been working on a newsletter, but I quit. I had to. No stomach for it on so little sleep. No desire for any kind of work, and yet I need the income. Tomorrow, my conference call with a long-time client who wants me to switch to a PC will determine if I have any steady work at all. And you know what, I don’t care! I will somehow pay the bills.

Tonight alone, while mom was awake and watching television, she took no less than 5 trips to the bathroom. While I have been home, she has taken at least 10 trips. Each time, she does what she can, but never enough. At night, she will spend time in the bathroom, necessitating that I sanitize the toilet, the sink, the floor, and the walls and woodwork and light switch plates on her march to and fro. It’s exhausting. I have had it! I am going to take some time off and put mom into a nearby nursing home for a week. I need time to play the piano, time to have a meal in peace, time to play with Valentino, time to calm down, time without wiping another wad of poop from my own mother, a night without cleaning the bathroom, an afternoon without cleaning the bathroom, a day without cleaning the bathroom, a day without washing poop off her nightgown and towels, a day without the smell of bleach and Lysol and getting up in the middle of the night to the smell of poop and waking up to the smell of poop. And I need a day without my own anger and impatience. I need a day without hearing her call my name, asking me to sleep with her, asking me for a tissue, asking me for water, asking me to turn a light on or off or to change the TV channel. I need a day, a week with some peace. If I don’t experience peace, I cannot give it to another. I have made my decision. She goes in for a week—if they will take her. The last home will not have mom back because she is no longer independent. Hoping the second home she visited will be amenable to her staying there for a few days.

Dear readers, you are witnessing a day in the life of a woman at her wit’s end.

Thursday, January 29, 2015 

Spoke with Nancy. On top of everything else—taking care of Eric, her daughter’s job being at stake because she has taken too many days off from work (dying mother-in-law, Eric, her own illnesses, and her children)—Abby was put down today. She had been suffering from glaucoma and required drops three times a day. Ever since Nancy went to NJ to be with Eric at hospital and rehab, Abby was not herself. She trembled. She hid in the yard. She messed in the house. Nancy figured she might have been abused in her absence. But on her return into the house this morning, Abby broke her leg. Turns out she had bone cancer and had probably been in pain all along. The vet said they could remove her leg and that she might live 3 months longer. But that would clearly have been a poor choice for a blind dog in pain. And it would have been difficult and expensive for Nancy, who is already knee deep in medical and other bills. Taking care of Eric is challenge enough.

I am in awe, however, of her daughter’s changing role. Elis had been working for a guide dog service and then a vet for very little money. She then decided to become a nurse and made it through against all odds. She works in a good hospital now, but might have to take a leave of absence. The gist of this account is that Elis is now equipped to help her mother care for her father, including rehabilitating him. The whole thing worked out. Nancy not only has a helper, but one who is able to partake wholly in the process. Elis taught Nancy how to move her father and change him. What a gift her nursing studies turned out to be, not only for others, but also for her own family.

Nancy cried today. I suspected grief over Abby and just about everything else piled up on top of her. We talked and I told her how she had inspired today’s talk at the nursing home. Nancy said that we need to forget about “Our Daily Bread” and concentrate on each moment instead. This led me to talk about Purpose, that is, why we are here and how we should behave in the process—with grace, of course, and in His Holy Grace. While You-Know-Who stalks the earth, we must do our part to bring others peace and healing and joy.

Wednesday, January 29, 2015 

Needed to take both computers to the shop. Needed help doing it because of the ice. So, I recruited Rob. But before I left, I told mom we were going to the store and would be right back. Here’s how it went:

Mom, Rob and I are going to the store. We’ll be right back.

Be sure to wear your coat and your shoes.

I will. Now, do you remember that we are going to the store.

Yes. Just put on a hat.

We’ll be right back. Can you remember that? We’re both going to the store.

OK. 

Here’s how the return went:

Where were you? No one was here. I was looking all over.

What did I say when we left? I told you we were going to the store.

Oh yeah.

Of course, mom did not remember a thing. But both computers are fine. Still having a problem with one client who says that my Ppt is not current and I need to work on a PC to be given the next job. And I have two Apple products. Never ends. We’ll see if I can hold on to this long-time client. Here’s hoping!

 

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

It took me a while, but I finally figured out (I hope, I think) how to stop mom from making the 5 to 6 marches to the toilet every evening. I march her myself in the morning before breakfast and make her sit until she does something productive. I march her midday before she goes to watch television. And when she does her first march to the toilet in the evening, I make her stay until she has finished her business. If it were not for Charlie and Betty and their continued supply of plastic bags, I don’t know what I would do. I would also like to acknowledge Costco and Sam’s Club for their boxes of surgical gloves, their huge supplies of paper towels, and their grand stores of baby wipes, without which I would not be announcing the projected success of my Sit, Stay! program, inspired by Valentino, who himself learned to sit and stay without half the kvetching my mother manages. Thank you Valentino! Thank you, all.