Feeling Feisty

On any visit, I am never sure who will greet me.  Will Mom know who I am? Will she be happy? Confused? Quiet? Energetic?

On this day, the best word to describe Nana would be "feisty," but in  a happy way.  Nana was convinced that her family was all moving in this day.  She saw me as I entered the unit.

"Hey, you're here! Terrific.  Let's go see the Director, so we can get your room."  Hmmm... We walked into the Director's office, where the Activities Director was working on some paperwork.

"Nancy is here. Is her room ready?"  Michelle looked Nana in the eye and said, "It's just about done."  Nana smiled. "The rest of the family should be here soon.  Are you sure there is room for everyone?"
Michelle assured her that there would be plenty of room. "Oh good," says Nana. "I think you will get along with everyone.  We are a very merry bunch!"

We went to Nana's room to wait for the others.  I dropped my stuff, took off my coat, and left Mom to go get a key to her medicine box, which I refill at every visit.  When I came back, she was hanging my coat up in her roommate's closet.  "Your room will probably be smaller than mine, so I will keep your coat up here." Okey dokey.  Following the first rule of calming Alzheimer's patients, I went along with her plan.

"Next, we need to get you fitted with one of these," she says, looking down at her walker. I told her that I was OK for now, I didn't need a walker yet.  "Oh, yes you do.  It's a rule around here. EVERYBODY needs to have one."  She was quiet for a moment.

"I have an idea. Let's go ahead outside and walk around.  If anybody says anything, look innocent and say, 'I'm sorry-- I didn't know that was a rule."  She burst into giggles.

"Oh, please don't tell anyone that I am encouraging my daughter to be naughty." We laughed.

I walked with Nana for awhile, and we had a nice visit. By the time I left, Nana was no longer thinking about everyone moving in.  I said my goodbyes, grabbed my coat and headed to the car.

That's when I realised that she hid my sunglasses somewhere in her room. .....
That was two weeks ago, and nope-- they still haven't reappeared.

What is Left?

 

Driving to Nana's today, I was thinking about all the things that Alzheimers has taken from her or from other residents.  Many of her memories are gone. She is beginning to lose some of her physical abilities, needing a walker for balance, assistance in showering, wearing Depends, remembering when to eat (and whether she has eaten at all). I think of the others around her, who are no longer capable of speaking, or making meaningful sentences; I think of the ones confined to wheelchairs, or needing all of their food pulverized in a blender, and it sometimes makes me sad.  But then I walk into Compass.

 

 

"HI!!", says Betty, as she gives me a big hug.  "It is so good to see you again!"

 

Terry gives me a wide-open smile and a pat on the back, and a few others give me a wink and a smile.

 

I see Nana down the hallway, and I walk her way.  She is talking to Terry and a visitor, and they are all talking and laughing. "Jane, we all love you.  You are always so lovely."  Nana acknowledges the compliment, and comes back with a little self-deprecating humor, and they all laugh again. Nana sees me, and her face lights up.

 

"Heeeyyyyy, you're here! It's Nancy!!!"  I receive a huge hug.  "I have been thinking about you, and hoping you would stop by."  She turns to the others.  "This is my daughter. Can you tell?, " she says, as she presses her face next to mine. They all acknowledge that we look "just alike".  I am flattered (even if it means I look like an 83-year old ;). )

 

 

We sit down right outside the community room, as close as two people can sit on the couch. "Oh, that feels good-- I feel better already!," says Nana, as we cuddle up.  "Me too," I say, and I truly mean it.  We hold hands and she tells me how she is doing. She doesn't always make sense, and she often repeats the same sentences over again, but that doesn't matter.  I just feel so warm and happy sitting next to her, and I know that she feels the same.  As people walk into the community room, they greet us with a smile or a story, and everyone comments on how we look alike. Nana swells with pride. One resident looks at me and says, "Somebody is Blonde today!," and gives me a wink... haha!

 

 

I tell Nana that I must get going-- Eddie is coming to town for the night. " OH! Will he have time to visit?"

 

I explain that he is only in town for the night, with the basketball team, and she says that she is sorry that she won't see him, but happy to hear that he is doing so well. "Will you bring him a kiss for me?"

 

 

"Of course-- and a hug too."  She is very pleased.

 

 

As I was leaving, it occurred to me that Alzheimer's can't take everything.  It may rob a person of their memories, their dignity, their physical abilities-- but it can't steal their most important commodity.  It can't steal away their LOVE.  The smiles, the twinkles in their eyes, their ability to understand that they are loved--- this is what remains.

 

As Nana tells me every visit, we are truly blessed.



Whistle While You Work ;)

 A quick little story today, relayed to me by one of her caregivers (forgive me Mom, for sharing this one...;) )
  "I was helping your Mother shower the other day, and I was whistling a little tune while I worked.  Your Mom told me that I was a very good whistler-- I thanked her and continued to whistle.  As she was washing up, she passed a little gas.  'Oops,' she said, 'I think I just whistled back at you!' "
  Hee, hee, hee.

A Weekend for "The Girls"

I took last Saturday off to bring Nana for a mammogram.  The doctor and I are still a little concerned about Nana's weight loss, though it has now stabilized and she seems to be eating well (In fact, she has been asking the staff if she could choose from a menu now.... heehee.) So we thought we would just make sure that we weren't missing anything.
   After bringing Nana to the car, I asked her if she remembered what a mammogram was.  She said no.... I explained that it was a test for breast cancer, and it could be uncomfortable. "Ohhhh.... eww. Well, if it is important for my health, that's ok."
   We arrived at the center, and we were the only patients.  The techs looked a little nervous when they saw Nana arrive via a walker, but she smiled at everyone and made everyone feel at ease.  She entered the mammography area and was readied for the test.  After the first breast was imaged, Nana thanked the mammographer. "Hmm," she said, "I think that is the first time that anyone has thanked me for that." We laughed.  Nana said, "Well, I know that you are doing your best. And this is an important test."  I tried to "read" the mammography films, but of course, I didn't know what I was doing.  But the films looked the same on each side, so I will take that as a positive.
  After the appointment, we went to Lady Grace for a bra fitting-- the ones she was wearing these days looked about 25 years old, and she had mentioned that she needed some new ones.  We went to the back and the salesperson brought her some bras that looked "familiar", as well as some that would be a little more comfortable (ones with less support but no hooks to reach in the back.) She chose the ones that looked more familiar, as expected.
  After making our purchases, we headed back to the car. 
"Where will I be going now?"
I told her that I was taking back to her home.  She looked a bit concerned as she got into the car, but as we pulled into Compass' parking lot, she said, "I know this place-- I love it here!"
  We entered the memory support area, and Nana settled into a chair in the dining area, where the residents were having birthday cake.  I hung up Nana's coat and returned to say goodbye.  She turned to me and said thank you for the day, and told me she loved me.
  "And thank you, Nancy, for finding me such a wonderful, wonderful home." :)

Updates

Boy, sometimes I am terrible about keeping up with my blogposts... I guess I have a harder time writing when Nana isn't doing as well.  First off, don't worry-- she isn't fretful or in pain-- she just seems to be getting weaker, and it is hard to watch sometimes.
  Nana has lost a total of 14 pounds since moving 7 months ago, despite a good appetite and great attention by her caregivers.  (She is cute-- when I weigh her, she smiles and cheers when her weight has gone down-- I remind her that we don't want her to lose weight; but like most women, she still likes to see the scale go down..) We had the occupational therapist watch her eating habits and make sure that she wasn't losing any fine motor skills that would make eating more difficult-- she was fine with her eating utensils.  But she did note that she was easily distracted, so she eats in a quieter environment to help her stay on task.  The therapist also noticed that her gait was a bit unsteady, so we invited the physical therapist to take a look.  She now goes to "exercise class" twice a week, and she is now using a walker.
  Walkers in dementia units are pretty amusing.  First off, most residents forget that they have walkers, so part of each day is spent finding everyone's walker.  Secondly, residents frequently "borrow" each other's walkers-- this is particularly annoying to Nana ("My name is right on the FRONT.  If this is not your name, it is not your walker.  It is MINE.")  heehee.
  Yes,  Nana is progressing in this disease called Alzheimers.  But it still can't take away all the things that make her special.  She is still witty and fun, and she is still very kind.  And she still gives some of the greatest hugs in the world.  And before I leave each visit, she says Thank You and I Love You. This is enough.

Another hospital visit

     As we nurses know, never jinx yourself.  We were having a great, "issue-less" day at work yesterday, when one of us uttered those words aloud.  Two minutes later, one of our night nurses called out sick.  Two minutes after that, my cell phone started ringing.....
   Nana was complaining of chest pain. Not unusual, except this time she was also very shaky and weak, and she felt warm to the touch.  The ambulance had been called and she was on her way to Milford Hospital. Thanks to my fabulous coworkers, I was out the door in 15 minutes and on my way.
   Thanks to a good report from Nana's caregivers, everyone at the emergency room was aware of her strengths (a wonderful attitude) and her weaknesses (a terrible memory at baseline and chronic leukemia.) I was relieved to know that Nana was flirting with the EMT's when they put her on the stretcher...
  As always, Nana was very happy to see me, announcing to the medical staff, "This is my daughter Nancy.  Aren't I lucky to have her?" She smiled broadly, but her eyes were tired and she looked very weak.  Her temp was 103, her heart rate was a little high for her, but she continued to entertain all of those around her. Chest xray negative, urine test negative, blood cultures negative. She sipped some ginger ale and held my hand.
  The doctor came in and talked to us about her condition.  "She seems to be doing ok now. Temp is down, and all the tests that we have done so far have come back negative.  We could keep her overnite and order a few more tests that would be a little more invasive, or we could send her home and watch and wait from there."  Since one of the worst things that one can do is take an Alzheimer's patient out of her familiar environment, we voted to watch and wait.  We headed happily back to Compass, where Mom was greeted with hugs and squeezes.
  I went back to check on her this morning.  She slept through the nite, and she had no fever. I told her about our adventures the day before. " I was sick? I went to the HOSPITAL?"
  All is well that ends well.  And this ended well-- I got an extra hug as I walked out the door :)

A nice surprise

It has been a busy few weeks, and I haven't been in as often to see Nana. In fact, I needed to drop off some supplies and refill meds for the morning, so I needed to go over after work, at 8:30pm.
   Nighttime is not a fun time to visit an Alzheimer's unit.  People are especially confused at nite, and people tend to be more agitated.  One time I went, and my mother wanted me to break up a fight between two gentlemen.  Another time, Mom was so confused it made me cry.  So I avoid going over after dark whenever I can.
   I left work and prayed that Nana would be fast asleep when I arrived.  I opened the door to the unit, and I saw that most residents were awake.  Two were having a snack in the dining room. One woman was dressed in her raincoat, and she told me that she was just waiting for her ride. I said to one of the workers, "Is my Mom asleep?"
  "Oh no," he answered, "She is down with the group in the sunroom."  I braced myself for the sight.
She was sitting in a chair, in the group.  I walked over and rubbed her head. She turned, smiled and said, "That feels good. Oh-- I knew that would be you!!!"
  She mentioned that she hadn't seen me in awhile. "I knew you would be stopping by.  I just said today- 'I wonder when I will see Nancy, and here you are!"
   She knew my name! Even after 8pm! I was so excited.
  She told me that she missed me.  I told her where I had been-- at work, with my sister Anne and family at the beach, with a friend at the doctors. She said that she was happy that I was having fun with Anne, and said that she would be praying for my friend. I told her that I would be back on Monday to spend more time with her and she said that would be wonderful-- "But if something comes up, I understand-- you have a very busy life, and I don't want to be a burden."
   I told her that I was leaving, but if she needed me there was always one place she could find me.  I tapped her heart, then tapped mine.
  "Oh honey, I know that you are always there. That must be why I smile so much."
Me too, Mom.  Me too.