Tuesday, March 3, 2015
On Sunday, mom complained of feeling ill, nauseated to be exact. She also indicated some chest pain, which is nothing to fool around with. So I called Barb, who came over immediately to minister to mom while I dealt with the EMTs. Mom becomes frightened easily when she is not feeling well and reacts rather dramatically. She did vomit and she did hold her chest, which I suspect was put to the test with her vomiting.
The EMTs were wonderful and adept at driving on ice and snow. I rode in front with the female driver who claimed to love snow so much, she wants to move to Alaska. I knew I would have to spend the night at the hospital as no one would go out on such a night to pick me up. I was prepared with a book (one of Jon Katz’s dog books), my filtered water, and my phone. Mom felt much better when we arrived at the hospital and demanded to go home. Nonetheless, we stayed in the ER until around 3:30 am, when we were finally given a room. Everyone was extremely solicitous, even at that hour. No sour face in the place. In the ER, I was offered a recliner, as I was in the room on the second floor. I decided, however, to sleep on a bench by the window and had a mild sense of how it might be to be homeless. The major difference being that I was sheltered and I was warm. (I slept in my parka.) I thought of my uncle who slept on the floor of a hotel in Tokyo among strangers during the last major earthquake. Now that must truly have been trying.
Mom was fine. She slept through most of the night, except when she was wheeled down to imaging for a CT scan or an ultrasound. All in all, she is fine. Mitral valve prolapse was the most significant finding, but not much can be done about that at her age. I understood from her exceptional nurse Kate that she was quite comfortable and was made to sit out by the nurses’ station, where she had company and where the nurses could keep an eye on her. Today, she was sitting out there, reading a magazine and talking to whoever walked by. Mom said she had a wonderful time and would be happy to come back.
Later in the car, she asked what I did during the holiday. When I asked which holiday, she responded as follows:
I know
You know what, mom?
Well, we did too.
Mom, what are you talking about? Which holiday?
It’s cold out.
Which holiday are you talking about, mom?
Did you go out? Be careful it’s cold.
Mom, you asked which holiday.
Oh
Which holiday? Christmas?
Oh yeah
Well, you were with me on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Oh yeah. It’s so cold out.
Mom is back in the kitchen and fretting about the “cat.” He must be cold. I feel sorry for him.
Don’t worry about the cat, mom. He doesn’t even exist.
Who owns him?
This, I could truthfully answer: No one, mom.
Oh
We are back in full swing. Mom is concerned about the cat (who doesn’t exit), her shoes (which she left at home), her cane (which she never uses), and the lights (which are too expensive to run and should be turned off—or “turned out” as she puts it).
Mom is back. Valentino is subdued. All is well with the world and mom had a wonderful time.
thecaregiversdiary 
Well, Sandy. Sounds like mom had a wonderful holiday at the hospital. With all that attention, I would say it was a wonderful trip for her! In the mean time you were crouched in your parka on the bench with Mother moon embracing you while you worried as to the outcome of diagnostics. Your blessing is that you were safe and out from under the elements. Another day in the life living with dementia.
Sounds like life has returned to “normal” and the cat continues to want to be her companion. I wonder why you insist on her seeing reality and frustrating yourself? My response would be to say to her “the holiday was fun” instead of picking her memory to see if she is on the same page as you. My response would be to tell her that the cat would be fine since he has a built in fur coat instead of you pointing out that he doesn’t exist. Mom is in a different world and I feel you are adding to your frustration by attempting to force the reality of things. My slant is… if she is not harming herself, play along with her reality which will allay her fears. Her reality is different then yours and will be with dementia. Sometimes I would also like to dwell in a land of imagination.
Thinking of you and praying for spring to come to you up north!
Martha
Thank you, Martha. Tough being a caregiver and working two jobs. Tough negotiating many things at once. But you know all about this. My mother is talkative and often asks the same question many. many, many times in a row. Sometimes I do well with it. Sometimes I fail. Just the way it is. Sometimes I go along with her. Sometimes I do not. She must put up with me as much as I put up with her. As my doctor told me, I will lose years of life because I am a caregiver. I know this to be true. Somedays I cannot even add 2 + 2. I have lost weight and am exhausted. But it’s where I am. So when I lose it, I allow myself that. I am also taking care of me. And if I do not answer her twentieth question about the light blinking on the phone or the cat on the fan, then she will just have to deal with it. As I see it, there is more than one person involved: Me, Rob, mom, and Valentino (my dog). We are all important in the equation.
Sandy, I feel for you, and know you are tested daily. My aunt had dementia, and my Uncle constantly told she was wrong, and always battling her with her flaws… her memory, or anything else, she had a different view of. I always felt so bad for her … she couldn’t help it.
You are human, and I surely am not judging you … no one knows unless they live it. I had my own trials with my mother … I could not have handled a situation like you are living. I had my mother living in assited living. Mom had a pension from the state, and qualified for VA benefits, since my dad served in the military during war time. it almost covered her monthly rent. Fortunately for me she has other money available to make up the difference which wasn’t much.
After losing Gary, I couldn’t start taking care of her. God was in my corner …
Sending Blessings and patience, Love,
Becky
ps if you are ever free for lunch, I would love to see you again.
Dearest Becky,
You’re on for lunch. I will call. Miss you. As for mom, she isn’t doing too well. Am posting a new one tomorrow. You’ll read that she has been in and out of the hospital 3 times in 2 weeks. And she fell while in respite care. Last time I send her anywhere, unless I have no other choice. She is complaining of pain in her groin (I think she pulled something, not sure what) and still has a bladder infection. Dr’s. appt. tomorrow. She had a bad reaction to the sulfa drug. You know how it goes. Glad your mom is receiving good care. As for you, you needed to get out and be on your own for a while. You needed to make up for lost living, even though you can never make up for your lost love. Sending love and hugs, Sandy