Wednesday, June 11, 2014 

Poured this morning. Glad I took the photo of the roses before the onslaught. Didn’t manage to get mom to stand in front of them yet. But they should perk up some when/if the sun comes out. 

Mom is in the kitchen now, beating the bejeezus out of the Cheerios. Sounds like construction work out there. I am in my office, eating my own breakfast, away from the hammering spoon, even thought I know mom would love to have company. I feel some guilt about this, but the noise is intolerable. Add to that her slurping. I know. I know. I should be more tolerant. But I remove myself from some forms of stress when I see no other recourse. 

I have already showered mom and dressed her. We are ready for our foray to the podiatrist. Am hoping to stop off at a garden center and persuade her to join me. Most of the time, she prefers to sit in the car. And today, because it’s so overcast, she might prefer not to venture out. Mom has become very skittish about going out altogether. We shall see what our venture will bring today. Last time, we stopped for pizza at Fiori’s. That was fun, but a bit too early. I think I need to make the appointments later in the day so we can enjoy a nice lunch out. Wind is picking up again. Looking gray out there. Not boding well. 

Rob just joined mom in the kitchen. It’s 0930, and mom who is usually up much later teases Rob when she can: Good afternoon, Rob. Vestiges of the old mom remain. Rob and mom spar for a bit. She enjoys it.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Deadlines all over the place, a sinus headache from the mold (been raining), mom in diapers, and a dog in diapers. I finally put diapers on Lucy, too. She’s been having accidents like the one she had on Sunday and then Monday morning. Getting tiring, but I have more patience with Lucy than with my mother. Mom is on the toilet again: fourth time in about 15 minutes. That’s the way it goes. But to prevent incontinence, many trips to the bathroom is the order of the day. Lead her to the bathroom, don the gloves, clean her, change her, have her wash her hands, remove the gloves, and then wash your own hands and the bathroom fixtures. I keep washing my hands, but it’s tough getting rid of the smell or feeling as if you are clean. I am still dealing with the mat to the living room carpet from Lucy’s accident on Sunday. Finally cleared the Oriental of any smells (hosed it down). Had to do the same to the mat. It’s still drying out on the porch. 

Arborists came by today to chip fallen branches, stake a tree, and trim another. One of them took home a beautiful bouquet of roses and salvia for his wife. I gave him a vase for the occasion and snipped some lovely roses and buds. Was nice to be away from my desk and away from the bathroom or down on my knees sniffing a carpet or a mat for residual urine. 

Here is a photo of my hybrid musk roses, Class of 2014! 

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

This morning’s conversation in the bathroom. (And in case dear reader has forgotten, I am her daughter Sandy): 

Good morning, mom.
Close the door, will you?
What time did you get up?
6:00 a.m.
Why so early?
That’s when I always get up. Now, wash your hands.
Where’s Rob?
He’s in the kitchen.
Did you have breakfast yet?
Yes, I did, and I walked the pups and fed them, too.

This is usually the extent of our conversations. I changed mom, had her wash her hands, and explained that I was returning to my office. Mom went into the kitchen, where her cereal bowl was awaiting her. Rob was preparing her toast and coffee. Her first question to him: Where’s Sandy?

Sigh! She doesn’t recall that I was with her in the bathroom not a minute before.

Saturday, May 30, 2014 

My day started early. Betty and I walked the pups at 0600. Had to be at market by 0700, leaving mom to Rob. Apparently it was a tough morning for him. He goes to bed very late and was also up by 0600. No naps for him. Mom kept calling me. As much as she explained that I was at market, it made little difference to her. 

A while ago, I changed and fed her and opened windows in her room (much to her dismay: Ohh, it’s so cold! And of course, it isn’t cold. At the moment, it’s 77 degrees. 

We are off to the symphony this evening and have hired a sitter for the evening. Have a sitter coming next week on Saturday for the wedding shower we will hold on my back porch. Should be fun. Have already vacuumed up as many spider webs as I could find, bought new chair cushions, steamed the tile floors, and oiled the wooden furniture. All that’s left to be done on my part is to clean the garden beds after all the storms, mulch, buy some balloons and a large ribbon for the gift grill, turn on the icemaker, and set up the badminton net. Come to think of it, I might need to buy more badminton rackets. Food will be provided by the bride’s mother and maid of honor. Am looking forward to the occasion. It’s almost like having a family of my own. I love living here. I love my neighbors and my friends. 

Mom will be with her caregiver Ruth. Our only challenge will be having one bathroom. But I think we will survive. 

Mom is watching TV right now and occasionally laughing at something. Yesterday, she laughed hard at a Liberty Mutual advertisement that wasn’t funny at all. I think she is often delighted just to be able to read through the script on the captions for the hearing impaired and laughs in response.

Heard some horror stories at market today. In particular, one woman is taking care of her failing husband, her autistic daughter, and her ungrateful and bad humored in-laws. She looked tired and worn. She says she will have to work for the rest of her life. I quite understand. Same club I belong to. But the big difference here is that mom is good natured and very grateful. I, too, am grateful that she isn’t demanding and mean. Mom can be testy, but on the whole, she has a sweet nature. I am grateful, too, even though there are times I wish she would stop calling me and bothering me in mid-edit. Disturbances during work are particularly annoying. But it’s part of having an elderly demented woman and a rambunctious dog in your home. Wouldn’t do without them. I know things can get worse and she can become more dependent and more demanding. But for now, I am grateful that I can manage most of the time. 

Ruth just arrived. She will stay with mom while Rob and attend the last concert of the season. Of course, mom has no idea who Ruth is and that she is staying with her. Mom asks where Ruth lives and responds as usual, Oh yeah! Business as usual.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014 

Another very long day. Mom has been making trips to the bathroom since 0500. I am officially exhausted. We have been through quite a few diapers and one shower, with the usual caveat, Don’t touch my hair. Bathroom duty is my least favorite thing in the world. But she is comfortable and happy. 

I have plenty of editing to do, and now and again, mom will call.

Sandy!
What mom?
Oh, let’s see. I don’t remember. What did I want you for? [Mom fudges and seeks for something.] Oh, uh, where is my sister Rose?
In a nursing home in New Jersey.
Really? Does she have to be there?
Yes, mom. She can’t walk.
But they can help her walk again. Can’t they?
No mom.

We had plenty of cleanup after yesterday’s storm. Branches of every size and shape—as ever! Just one of those things. Took a walk tonight and saw one of the many cars severely damaged by last week’s hail storm. Quite a wreck: side view mirrors and trim destroyed, windows and body destroyed. I was lucky that only my hosta and some other plants suffered. The roots are still strong. There is always hope. 

As with mom. She is strong. I am not sure what there is to hope for, except for a good life in the hereafter.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

What a morning! I was in the bathroom, when Valentino started to vomit. So I ran and threw the only towel available onto the Oriental runner in the hallway. It was a white towel, naturally. And his vomit was bright yellow. He vomited again outside on the stone patio. No problem there, except that when Lucy peed on the carpet on the porch, I had planned to hose the carpet down and lay it there. No matter. Hose the stones. 

After we walked the pups, Betty and I moved the carpet outside bearing yesterday’s scent. I washed it down with vinegar water, soap, and baking soda, then we laid it over the picnic table to dry. 

Back into the house, and my day was off to an early start. There was mom. In the bathroom already, and it’s only 0800. After she brushed her teeth (a 5-minute ritual), I sent her back to bed. I am off to shower and go to the hospital to give Reiki to oncology patients, and then off to NJ to have my tooth checked. I might have chipped a filling with an unpopped piece of popcorn two weeks ago. 

Long day ahead of me, and Val is already upset because we left him yesterday. (Of course, Aunt Betty was here twice to let them out and check up on them. We were only gone for 5 hours, but that’s a long time in dog-hours!) And mom will be left here with Rob. Oh, tomorrow! Longwood Gardens. I need to find a sitter for mom, or Rob will have two very long days to deal with. On to the phones! 

Later— 

Schedule revised. Stayed home from the hospital. Not feeling well. Canceled the trip to NJ to the dentist. Rain forecast and my tooth is OK. (The filling appears to be intact.) And Mary is unable to go to Longwood Gardens tomorrow. She has some knee damage and must undergo surgery. Is this Mercury in Retrograde? 

Never mind. I am home and can relax and recuperate. Was also available for a conference call and am now revising a 195-page document that was FINAL, but will now be MORE FINAL!  

While I was at it this morning, I cleaned the back porch; hosed down the area rug that Lucy soiled; vacuumed; steamed the tiles; replaced the chair mats (they were getting old) with brighter, more summery ones; and cleaned the patio somewhat (could not put out weed killer because of impending rain). Two weeks from the wedding shower. Need to get things in order. Each time I went back into the house, mom would ask Is it cold out? Windows are opened, breeze is pleasant, and she asks, Is it cold out? I was able to keep her bedroom windows wide open until the storm. 

Storm was violent. Branches down, as usual. Cable out: thus, no email, television, or phones. Sorry I went with the cable company for the phones. But at least I have my cell phone. Mom is in bed, having been to the bathroom around 5 or 6 times in one hour. What else is there for her to do? She has asked me several times to Fix that, meaning the television. But she is happy. Her windows are closed and she is back in darkness and warmth, covered by her down comforter. It’s a bit too early for bed, so I imagine she will be up all night. I hope Rob will get some sleep. She is wont to call and he usually hears her. 

Memorial Day, May 26, 2014 

Have had flags for years. Today, I am flying one of the big ones. Need to go to Loews to buy a clip for it. We are headed for Pottstown, where Captain B. will have his flag flying high and always at the ready. 

Mom says she knows where Pottstown is. It isn’t far from here, is it?

No, mom. It’s 30 minute away.
Pottown is nice. I remember always seeing the sign for Pottstown.
So, you remembering seeing the sign when you drove?
Yeah (weak smile).
Mom, you never drove near Pottstown at all.
Oh yeah. What are you doing?
Making lemon squares.
Oh yeah?
Yes, do you remember when you used to bake?
Oh yeah (weaksmile—always a dead giveaway).
Sure, mom. You never baked a cookie in your entire life. 

Rob started to laugh so hard, I followed, with tears streaming down my face. He said we should record our “conversations” and send them to Fire Sign Theater. I couldn’t do the judgin’ cause I didn’t know the Latin! 

Well, at least mom is showered and has had her cereal. All we have to do is load her into the car later, as she regales us with, I remember this, all the way down. If only she did. 

Rob started laughing as he recalled an incident with his father, who complained to his brother (Rob’s uncle) that we had gotten his towels wet. The response was priceless and delivered only as Ken could deliver it: But Crawford, that’s what they’re for!”

I reminded Rob that his father wasn’t demented. No, he said, irascible!
Curmudgeonly!
Cantankerous!
Contumacious!

We were halted by mom, who asked, Where did you buy this? Referring to a small container of Lancôme face cream, which I left on the kitchen counter for her.

At the store.
Really? How much did you pay for it? (That’s another favorite question for which she rarely seeks an answer.)
A lot.
Oh yeah?

Sigh! Went to Loews for the grommets. The American flag is now flying high—well, sort of. It’s over by the fence, but I still have the mounting bracket and will someday have someone mount it onto the house for me! God bless America and all the men and women who fought for us.

Sunday, May 25, 2014 

Allergies posing problems this week. I think the hailstorms stirred up the already plentiful tree pollen and mold. Still, I managed to do some gardening. I try to do everything before mom wakes up. Planted the new daylilies from White Flower Farm. Will have golden orange petals, 5” wide, with a chartreuse throat. Can’t wait. Tried to move an azalea. No luck. Moved one of the Strawberry Vanilla hydrangeas. (I love the name. Good enough to eat!) Cut back the cherry laurel than threatened to hinder view of the windowbox. And potted some begonias formerly destined for same windowbox. Mulched the limelight hydrangea tree than is threatening to return to bush form. Tough winter for hydrangeas. Mine have survived but all had to be drastically cut back. Am still mourning the loss of my hostas. Am hoping they will grow quickly and resume their lovely forms.

Valentino is barking again. Someone passing by—man, woman, dog, child, cat. He’s a challenge. It’s either Val or mom. He barks. She calls. Distractions aplenty in this household.

Apparently, mom woke Rob last night at 0430. He said she called me, but when he went to her room, she was asleep. And she, of course, has no memory of the incident. Rob is a saint. He is often the first to hear mom and usually the first to respond. We keep a supply of juices for mom—cranberry and grape. Rob makes sure her glass is full. When I asked mom if she would like cranberry juice—which we have been giving her for nearly a year now—she said, I’ve never had that before. Everything is new to her. Everyday is an adventure into the unknown. I wonder if after a while it does become frightening. I am told people with dementia and Alzheimer’s actually do retain pockets of memory, which, though often unaccessible, can be accessed from time to time, but only briefly. I see little evidence of mom accessing memories. She holds on to the questions she knows and practices them daily. Questions—her mainstay and her link to others. She can ask, but the answers you give will not make sense, nor will she listen to them, even if she can hear them. It’s a one-sided existence. Her point of view, her ever-contracting view.

Mom is not interested in many things. When she asked where Rob was, I told her that he was outside mowing the lawn and led her to the window. But she said, That’s OK. I don’t want to look. I directed her attention to the flowering fringe tree. Do you see the tree with the white flowers? Her response: Oh yeah. It’s nice. Let’s go. It’s almost as if she is trapped and afraid I might ask her a question that will reveal her inability to see and understand a flowering tree or to see Rob mowing the lawn and understand that he is actually mowing a lawn. If she did see Rob, she would only ask, Is that Rob? What’s he doing? I would explain that he is mowing the lawn, and she would give me her usual response, Oh yeah?

There is little that captures her attention. No sunset, however beautiful (and we do have some doozies here), no storm, however powerful (she missed the hail storms entirely). Last year, she was enamored of the large lavender-colored dahlias. I wonder if they will excite her this year, or if we will mourn the loss of yet another point of interest. The hospital where I work gave me a huge pointsettia at Christmastime. Mom’s sole interest was in my throwing the plant away. She reminded me frequently, When are you getting rid of that? For Mother’s Day, my brother sent her 2 dozen pink roses. I had to put them in two vases. Quite lovely. But again, Throw these away or Rob, move these. Put them someplace else.

I am a purger, but my mother is ruthless. She is no lover of flowers, plants, shrubs, the earth. She remains terrified of bugs. She would never countenance a trip to the farm to buy grass-fed beef or organic raw milk or plants for the garden. We were always extremely different. So far as she was concerned, I lived on a different planet. But my planet was one I greatly preferred. Mom’s very narrow world has closed in even tighter. Perhaps having less to lose is an advantage. I myself would rather have known and lost, than never have known at all.