Thursday, December 29, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
The Finalists
Nana went for visits at our two favorite facilities last week. On paper, they were quite even-- while one place had more freedoms, the other one had more warmth. One was large; one was small. We took Nana to both, hoping that one place would clearly outshine the other; or perhaps Dad would send us a message from heaven that made our choice extremely clear.
At the first facility, we walked in the door and were greeted by three very sweet, happy ladies- "Welcome!", they cheered as we walked in. They were taking the dog for a walk with a a guide and a group of other residents. Nana loves walks AND puppies, so this seemed like a good start. She joined the group, while I toured the facility. There was a class going on at the end of the hall-- a group was studying Italy, through photographs, games and short lectures. As we walked down the hallway, a woman walked slowly by with a walker. My guide called out to her by name. "Lena, how are you today?"
"I'm hungry."
My guide excused himself and walked Lena to the kitchen.
"What would you like to eat?"
"I like ice cream."
"Then let's get ice cream." (It is 10:30 am.... :) ) Ten points to this first place!
Upon returning to the unit, Nana joined the Italy class. The puppy joined us in the meeting room, resting her head on my lap. This pup is a real treasure, moving around the room and visiting with every member. (There is also a few birds and a guinea pig here. Nana definitely loved all the pets.)
Nana joined in on the Italy class, recognizing landmarks and sharing stories of her trip to Italy with my Dad.
I asked Nana what she thought of this place. She asked, "What is this place for?" I explained that it was a home that specialized in helping people with Alzheimers. They worked with the Boston University Alzheimers research program, and that she would live there if she would like. She was quiet for a minute or two.
"Can I afford it?"
"Yes you can," I said.
"Then I like it.", she answered. Quiet for a moment, she added, "God bless your father."
----------------------
Two days later, we went to the other facility. We were greeted by the head of the Cognitive Specialty Group, which works closely with the residents who are the highest functioning, planning special events and activities. Nana was invited to join the group for the afternoon, and she readily accepted. I left for a few hours and then returned.
When I arrived, Nana was sitting in the dining area, waiting for a snack. (There is no leaving when there is chocolate to be eaten!) I waited while Nana waited for her snack. Nana seemed pretty content, but a bit confused. She kept jumping from the table, asking me if I wanted to join her for a piece of cake. I declined, enjoying the ability to watch Nana's interactions from afar. I noticed that the group was mixed between two tables. At Nana's table, there were three other women. I introduced myself, and all three ladies stared blankly at me. One woman looked a little angry (which, of course, is not unusual with Alzheimers sufferers.) The other table, a group of three men and three women, were laughing and interacting with each other. After Nana finished her cake, she packed up her napkin, paper plate and cup, and stood to find a trash can. "AAACCKKK!," shrieked a woman on the other table, "Look at Jane-- she is throwing away her own trash!" She cackled again and slapped the hand of the fellow next to her, who then joined in the laughter. I was reminded of middle school, and the Queen Bees and wannabes...
"I think I'm ready to go, " Nana said. Me too. Nobody laughs at Nana. With her, yes. But at her? No way. She didn't ask any questions about the facility on the ride home.
----------------
The choice was easy, in the end. Both programs sounded great on paper. But one program outshone the other upon execution.
Plus my Father's Mom was named Lena. And Nana's favorite food is ice cream (thanks for the help, Dad.)
Compass Point in Hopkinton, here we come (once the bed is ready...)
At the first facility, we walked in the door and were greeted by three very sweet, happy ladies- "Welcome!", they cheered as we walked in. They were taking the dog for a walk with a a guide and a group of other residents. Nana loves walks AND puppies, so this seemed like a good start. She joined the group, while I toured the facility. There was a class going on at the end of the hall-- a group was studying Italy, through photographs, games and short lectures. As we walked down the hallway, a woman walked slowly by with a walker. My guide called out to her by name. "Lena, how are you today?"
"I'm hungry."
My guide excused himself and walked Lena to the kitchen.
"What would you like to eat?"
"I like ice cream."
"Then let's get ice cream." (It is 10:30 am.... :) ) Ten points to this first place!
Upon returning to the unit, Nana joined the Italy class. The puppy joined us in the meeting room, resting her head on my lap. This pup is a real treasure, moving around the room and visiting with every member. (There is also a few birds and a guinea pig here. Nana definitely loved all the pets.)
Nana joined in on the Italy class, recognizing landmarks and sharing stories of her trip to Italy with my Dad.
I asked Nana what she thought of this place. She asked, "What is this place for?" I explained that it was a home that specialized in helping people with Alzheimers. They worked with the Boston University Alzheimers research program, and that she would live there if she would like. She was quiet for a minute or two.
"Can I afford it?"
"Yes you can," I said.
"Then I like it.", she answered. Quiet for a moment, she added, "God bless your father."
----------------------
Two days later, we went to the other facility. We were greeted by the head of the Cognitive Specialty Group, which works closely with the residents who are the highest functioning, planning special events and activities. Nana was invited to join the group for the afternoon, and she readily accepted. I left for a few hours and then returned.
When I arrived, Nana was sitting in the dining area, waiting for a snack. (There is no leaving when there is chocolate to be eaten!) I waited while Nana waited for her snack. Nana seemed pretty content, but a bit confused. She kept jumping from the table, asking me if I wanted to join her for a piece of cake. I declined, enjoying the ability to watch Nana's interactions from afar. I noticed that the group was mixed between two tables. At Nana's table, there were three other women. I introduced myself, and all three ladies stared blankly at me. One woman looked a little angry (which, of course, is not unusual with Alzheimers sufferers.) The other table, a group of three men and three women, were laughing and interacting with each other. After Nana finished her cake, she packed up her napkin, paper plate and cup, and stood to find a trash can. "AAACCKKK!," shrieked a woman on the other table, "Look at Jane-- she is throwing away her own trash!" She cackled again and slapped the hand of the fellow next to her, who then joined in the laughter. I was reminded of middle school, and the Queen Bees and wannabes...
"I think I'm ready to go, " Nana said. Me too. Nobody laughs at Nana. With her, yes. But at her? No way. She didn't ask any questions about the facility on the ride home.
----------------
The choice was easy, in the end. Both programs sounded great on paper. But one program outshone the other upon execution.
Plus my Father's Mom was named Lena. And Nana's favorite food is ice cream (thanks for the help, Dad.)
Compass Point in Hopkinton, here we come (once the bed is ready...)
A Nite to Remember (not)
Lunch with Nana and friends today. A lovely gentleman walked in and pointed at Nana, with a twinkle in his eye. Nana smiled, winked, and pointed back at him.
"That was great fun last nite Jane. I enjoyed spending time with you."
"Me too!"
As the gentleman walked away, Nana said to me without breaking her smile, "I have no idea who that is, or what I did..."
(After a little investigating, I found out from her caregivers that there was a big Christmas party last nite, complete with a 16-piece swing band. Knowing Nana, she danced the nite away! :) )
"That was great fun last nite Jane. I enjoyed spending time with you."
"Me too!"
As the gentleman walked away, Nana said to me without breaking her smile, "I have no idea who that is, or what I did..."
(After a little investigating, I found out from her caregivers that there was a big Christmas party last nite, complete with a 16-piece swing band. Knowing Nana, she danced the nite away! :) )
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Moving On...
"I'm not happy. I need to move."
Nana has been saying this a lot lately. At first, I thought it was just because her best buddy had been failing lately, and she had become very bitter. But the more I watched her in her environment, I noticed the changes. She no longer participated in many activities in the assisted living area. I noticed also that there didn't seem to be as many activities that pertained to her. She seemed to spend more time wandering, and I was receiving reports from both staff and residents that she seemed more "lost" lately. I also noticed that her gait was not as strong-- she tends to list a bit to the right, and her posture is becoming poorer. She no longer remembered anyone visiting, and she just seemed lost in her own mixed-up mind. She needs more care.
Becky is home from college right now, so she was able to help me narrow down the choices for Alzheimers units. This has been very hard for me. I feel like I am taking away more freedoms from Nana, and that my Mom is disappearing more and more each day. But Becky reminded me that by keeping her safe and more engaged, I am actually giving her more freedom-- more peace of mind.
We have found two places that are strictly dedicated to Alzheimer's care, deeply compassionate and very up to date on the latest in Alzheimer care. We took one place off the list when the nurse director told us that no one could enter her facility unless they had a prescription for an anti-psychotic, "just in case..." That went against both the nurse in me and the future pharmacist in Becky. Another place looked lovely, but the residents looked completely disengaged. The two remaining facilities are just so wonderful that I am having trouble choosing. Both have offerred Nana beds. Now, we need to decide....
This week, Nana will visit each facility, at the same time of day. She will see where she will live, and she will meet residents and interact with them. Hopefully, the correct choice will become very clear. If it doesn't, I am following Becky's advice and looking for my Dad to send me a great, big, easy-to-decipher sign....
Nana has been saying this a lot lately. At first, I thought it was just because her best buddy had been failing lately, and she had become very bitter. But the more I watched her in her environment, I noticed the changes. She no longer participated in many activities in the assisted living area. I noticed also that there didn't seem to be as many activities that pertained to her. She seemed to spend more time wandering, and I was receiving reports from both staff and residents that she seemed more "lost" lately. I also noticed that her gait was not as strong-- she tends to list a bit to the right, and her posture is becoming poorer. She no longer remembered anyone visiting, and she just seemed lost in her own mixed-up mind. She needs more care.
Becky is home from college right now, so she was able to help me narrow down the choices for Alzheimers units. This has been very hard for me. I feel like I am taking away more freedoms from Nana, and that my Mom is disappearing more and more each day. But Becky reminded me that by keeping her safe and more engaged, I am actually giving her more freedom-- more peace of mind.
We have found two places that are strictly dedicated to Alzheimer's care, deeply compassionate and very up to date on the latest in Alzheimer care. We took one place off the list when the nurse director told us that no one could enter her facility unless they had a prescription for an anti-psychotic, "just in case..." That went against both the nurse in me and the future pharmacist in Becky. Another place looked lovely, but the residents looked completely disengaged. The two remaining facilities are just so wonderful that I am having trouble choosing. Both have offerred Nana beds. Now, we need to decide....
This week, Nana will visit each facility, at the same time of day. She will see where she will live, and she will meet residents and interact with them. Hopefully, the correct choice will become very clear. If it doesn't, I am following Becky's advice and looking for my Dad to send me a great, big, easy-to-decipher sign....
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Thanksgiving Week
Becky here checking in again.
Well, its official, Nana doesn’t know who I am. A vast contrast to being the only family member she could consistently identify when she lived in Indy. How do I know? We went over to visit a day last week and Mom asked Nana if she knew who I was. Her response “I am not sure I know which one you are because you have gotten so tall!” (while hugging me). Yes cousins, laugh all you want. Nana thought I, the family dwarf, had grown so much she didn’t recognize me. Her acting skills failed her here.
A few days later we returned to accompany Nana to the holiday celebration. I settled in to my role as one of Nana’s daughters and had a great meal of random conversation. The best topic had to be cancer. Nanas best friend tripped on the carpet on the way in, no major injuries but her shoulder hurt. She continued to complain and Mom went to fetch an icepack. Nana chimed in “if you think there is something wrong, you have to see a doctor. My Lou had cancer on his shoulder. Cancer will kill you and you need to make sure it isn’t cancer!”
Suppressing a laugh, I told Nana that she is in fact correct, Grampa had melanoma removed from his back but her friends pain was because she fell on her shoulder. “Oh, well cancer will still kill you, so be careful”. Thank you for the warning, Nana!
Thanksgiving Day was a whole different experience. After going to my uncles for a big meal, it was my job to go pick up Nana while Dad made her a small meal to have with us since the big crowds have become too much for her. I walked in to Southgate and up to Nana’s apartment. All the lights were on, bathroom fans were going, but no Nana. I checked the showers, bed, closets, still no Nana. I walked out to ask the nursing aides when they saw Nana, and they told me she was just in her apartment. Uhoh. I checked the other common areas of her floor to no avail and headed downstairs to check at the front desk. Nana had been down about an hour ago but she hasn’t seen her since then.
Minor panic begins to set in. I knew Nanas best friend was not there and Nana was MIA from all the places I could come up with. Did she go out a side door to take a walk? Did she leave with someone claiming to be her family? I couldn’t tell my Mom since she was in Boston and I didn’t want to put her in a panic too. Time to call in the troops. The nurse aides started checking door to door, maintenance went on a search at all buildings and I started driving around the neighborhood.
Forty five minutes later, I still didn’t have Nana. I went to sit up in her apartment and hope she returned. A few minutes later I heard dogs coming down the hall. Aha! She must be with the dogs. I looked out in the hall and there she was, walking down the hall with the aides who had a similar face of panic I had.
Me- Nana, Ive been looking with you for an hour!
Nana- You have? I was right here.
Lady with the dogs- You were? She told me she doesn’t have any family that spends the holidays with her. (My heart breaks a little that Nana feels this way)
Now that I had her, we switched shoes and headed to my house. Dinner was ready to go and we sat around the kitchen table. In the middle of dinner Nana asked to call her grandparents to check in for the holidays. Hmmmm I’m not really sure how I can reach them, how do I tell her they died a long time ago. Quick on his feet, Dad simply responded that those who needed to know knew she was there. Phew, good save.
Once it was desert time, Nana was in her element. She wanted apple pie with ice cream. I was sitting at the table with her talking to my aunt and noticed Nana had a spoon. Where did that come from? We only put out forks. Oh, she has the serving spoon from ice cream. I laughed to myself and continued talking to family. Another 5 minutes later I notice the ice cream is missing. Did dad put it away? Nope, there it is, ON NANA’s LAP. Little sneak was eating straight from the jar. Me- Nana, where did you get that ice cream tub? Nana- Hehehe, I don’t know where it came from! Take it from me so I don’t eat it all.
I took the ice cream to place it back in the freezer and got Nana ready to go. We returned to her apartment and she gave me a hug and said thank you for a great day, I love you. Then she asked me if I could take her back to my house, she didn’t want to live at Southgate.
Once Mom got home that night, the decision was made. Nana needed to move to a more secure unit that fit her needs. Memory care units, here we come!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Confused? I think not!
Becky and I went to see Nana today. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of her more lucid days. She didn't recognize Bex, and barely recognized me when we came through the door. But as we were leaving, she seemed to know a bit more.
I received my usual hug, kiss and thank-you. Today she added, "I am so glad I had you. And as I recall, you are one of the ones that never caused me any trouble."
"Boy, that shows just how confused she is today," whispered my loving daughter, "if she thinks that you weren't any trouble..."
Nice, Bex. Really nice.
I received my usual hug, kiss and thank-you. Today she added, "I am so glad I had you. And as I recall, you are one of the ones that never caused me any trouble."
"Boy, that shows just how confused she is today," whispered my loving daughter, "if she thinks that you weren't any trouble..."
Nice, Bex. Really nice.
"I'm not Dead Yet ;)"
Nana and I decided to take things of value out of her apartment after several pieces of jewelry were hidden and then she couldn't find them. I was going to see my siblings out in Indiana, and thought this was a good time to take the baubles and let the granddaughters pick out some jewelry. Nana absolutely agreed-- "I know they would probably rather have money, but that sounds great!"
I went over on Thursday to pick up the jewelry. Nana sat on her bed and watched me. "Now, don't take it all. I might be going somewhere special, and I want to have some jewelry just in case."
"Absolutely, Mom."
"You see, right now I don't have a beau. But things change quickly around here. Who knows who could be moving in right around the corner?"
Heeheehee. You go, Nana
I went over on Thursday to pick up the jewelry. Nana sat on her bed and watched me. "Now, don't take it all. I might be going somewhere special, and I want to have some jewelry just in case."
"Absolutely, Mom."
"You see, right now I don't have a beau. But things change quickly around here. Who knows who could be moving in right around the corner?"
Heeheehee. You go, Nana
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Minerva
When my great-grandmother's estate was being settled, there was only one thing that Nana wanted: Minerva. Minerva is an old marble bust of a cherub's face, which a collector believes was part of a building in NYC many years ago. Nana loved the innocent, playful face, and Minerva sat beside our fireplaces when we moved around the country.
After Nana moved to Southgate, Minerva was given a special place outside her apartment door, on a small table. Every month, we decorated her, and the other residents looked forward to seeing her monthly "outfits". As Nana learned her new environment, she often told people that she lived with Minerva, and they could find her home by looking for this landmark.
In the last two months, Nana has become very concerned that someone is going to steal Minerva.
"Will you take Minerva when I can't live here anymore?" has changed to, "Take Minerva to your home. Someone will steal her if she stays here." I have tried to ignore her pleas, saying, "Mom, Minerva is safe. No one will take her. And I will take her when and if you move."
Yesterday, Minerva was gone from her perch. "She was stolen last nite! Someone took her!" I found her inside her apartment, covered by a sheet. Minerva weighs 40 pounds.... who brought her into the apartment? I asked the staff, but no one moved her... I am pretty sure that Nana moved her by herself. This is pretty scary... Luckily she did not hurt herself. "You better take her home. Someone is now moving her, and next time they might steal her. She needs to stay with you. She needs to stay in the family."
I couldn't do it. I couldn't take Minerva out of the apartment. I moved her to a table in Nana's livingroom, and Nana seemed very satisfied. As I was leaving, I spoke to the receptionist about my dilemna.
"I think of Minerva as an extension of my Mom. She adores that statue. It has always reminded her of her childhood. I hate to take it away from her, even if she is asking me to do so."
"It seems you are having a harder time with this than your Mom is..."
She is right. That cherubic smile is an extension of my mother's own positive spirit. I have this irrational fear that if I remove Minerva, I will remove some of Nana's beautiful spirit. But if the statue is causing her distress, or if she hurts herself moving that statue, I am not doing Nana any favors.
I have decided that if Minerva is moved again, or if she asks me to take her again, I will. I will place her in my livingroom during the winter, and take her to our family's summer cottage in the summer. That cherubic face can be shared with all her grandchildren as they spend time at the beach-- perhaps it will feel as if Nana is close to them as they enjoy a place that holds so many happy memories within its walls.
After Nana moved to Southgate, Minerva was given a special place outside her apartment door, on a small table. Every month, we decorated her, and the other residents looked forward to seeing her monthly "outfits". As Nana learned her new environment, she often told people that she lived with Minerva, and they could find her home by looking for this landmark.
In the last two months, Nana has become very concerned that someone is going to steal Minerva.
"Will you take Minerva when I can't live here anymore?" has changed to, "Take Minerva to your home. Someone will steal her if she stays here." I have tried to ignore her pleas, saying, "Mom, Minerva is safe. No one will take her. And I will take her when and if you move."
Yesterday, Minerva was gone from her perch. "She was stolen last nite! Someone took her!" I found her inside her apartment, covered by a sheet. Minerva weighs 40 pounds.... who brought her into the apartment? I asked the staff, but no one moved her... I am pretty sure that Nana moved her by herself. This is pretty scary... Luckily she did not hurt herself. "You better take her home. Someone is now moving her, and next time they might steal her. She needs to stay with you. She needs to stay in the family."
I couldn't do it. I couldn't take Minerva out of the apartment. I moved her to a table in Nana's livingroom, and Nana seemed very satisfied. As I was leaving, I spoke to the receptionist about my dilemna.
"I think of Minerva as an extension of my Mom. She adores that statue. It has always reminded her of her childhood. I hate to take it away from her, even if she is asking me to do so."
"It seems you are having a harder time with this than your Mom is..."
She is right. That cherubic smile is an extension of my mother's own positive spirit. I have this irrational fear that if I remove Minerva, I will remove some of Nana's beautiful spirit. But if the statue is causing her distress, or if she hurts herself moving that statue, I am not doing Nana any favors.
I have decided that if Minerva is moved again, or if she asks me to take her again, I will. I will place her in my livingroom during the winter, and take her to our family's summer cottage in the summer. That cherubic face can be shared with all her grandchildren as they spend time at the beach-- perhaps it will feel as if Nana is close to them as they enjoy a place that holds so many happy memories within its walls.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Do you believe in Fairies?
Today, I went with the Southgate residents to see Peter Pan at the Hanover Theater. And as a sidenote, I must mention that at 59 years old, Cathy Rigby is still an incredible Peter Pan!
I got to Southgate early to make sure that Nana had some lunch, and we boarded the bus shortly after we ate. As we entered the bus, there was a full chorus of "Hi Jane!" Ever the prom queen, she smiled and waved to everyone.
As we entered the theater, Nana grabbed my hand and said, "This way I can make sure I don't get lost." Great idea! We took our seats, and Nana looked around. She started telling people about the wonderful history of the Hanover Theatre, and pointed out the seats that she sat in last time she was here. (She had never been there before.. As for the history, that was also a figment of her imagination.) As she sat in the theatre, she quietly listened to the conversations around her. The people behind us were discussing the weather. " We just had rain last nite," he said, to which Nana piped up, "My name is Jane! Are you talking about me?" Oy.
Once the show started, we settled in and Nana seemed to really enjoy the show. She enjoyed all the singing, and she loved the dancing. "You would have been dancing up there if you had the chance, right?," she said to me. She was right. As for Nana, given the chance, she probably would have chosen to fly on the wires instead :).
At intermission, she was ready to leave, but since we came on the bus, she decided to stay. I took her to the bathroom, which was packed with children and grandparents. She went in one stall, I went in the other. I watched her shoes, just to make sure she didn't disappear on me. Sure enough, she popped up and went right out the door of the bathroom, forgetting to stop and wash her hands. I bolted out of the stall, scaring a poor kindergardner, and reached her in the hallway. "Oh, Hi! I was just looking for you!" I gave her a squirt of Purell and we headed back to our seats. During the second set, I knew that she was still watching because when Peter Pan asked if we believed in fairies, she clapped enthusiastically. We watched the rest of the production, and Nana turned and said, "I'm glad we stayed. This was really good."
We returned to Southgate, and Nana planned to take a nap, once she visited with her friend Effie. As I was leaving, she gave me a big hug and kiss. "I am so lucky that I have you." I feel the same way, Mom.
I got to Southgate early to make sure that Nana had some lunch, and we boarded the bus shortly after we ate. As we entered the bus, there was a full chorus of "Hi Jane!" Ever the prom queen, she smiled and waved to everyone.
As we entered the theater, Nana grabbed my hand and said, "This way I can make sure I don't get lost." Great idea! We took our seats, and Nana looked around. She started telling people about the wonderful history of the Hanover Theatre, and pointed out the seats that she sat in last time she was here. (She had never been there before.. As for the history, that was also a figment of her imagination.) As she sat in the theatre, she quietly listened to the conversations around her. The people behind us were discussing the weather. " We just had rain last nite," he said, to which Nana piped up, "My name is Jane! Are you talking about me?" Oy.
Once the show started, we settled in and Nana seemed to really enjoy the show. She enjoyed all the singing, and she loved the dancing. "You would have been dancing up there if you had the chance, right?," she said to me. She was right. As for Nana, given the chance, she probably would have chosen to fly on the wires instead :).
At intermission, she was ready to leave, but since we came on the bus, she decided to stay. I took her to the bathroom, which was packed with children and grandparents. She went in one stall, I went in the other. I watched her shoes, just to make sure she didn't disappear on me. Sure enough, she popped up and went right out the door of the bathroom, forgetting to stop and wash her hands. I bolted out of the stall, scaring a poor kindergardner, and reached her in the hallway. "Oh, Hi! I was just looking for you!" I gave her a squirt of Purell and we headed back to our seats. During the second set, I knew that she was still watching because when Peter Pan asked if we believed in fairies, she clapped enthusiastically. We watched the rest of the production, and Nana turned and said, "I'm glad we stayed. This was really good."
We returned to Southgate, and Nana planned to take a nap, once she visited with her friend Effie. As I was leaving, she gave me a big hug and kiss. "I am so lucky that I have you." I feel the same way, Mom.
Monday, October 17, 2011
I owe Nancy C an apology.... once I stop giggling...
Nana is, unfortunately, becoming more confused. She has taken to dropping in on neighbors, and she has become obsessed with picking up notes and papers. This morning, Jane C told me a funny story.
Jane's parents live next door to Nana. Nana likes to wander in and say hello occasionally (often she is unaware that she is in the wrong apartment...) It seems that she brought home a note with some phone numbers on it, thinking that it was hers. Jane has a sister named Nancy, and her name and number were on this note.
The next nite, Nancy C received a phone call. At 2am.
"Hi Nancy!"
"Who is this?"
"It's your mother!" Nancy recognized my mother's voice, and was kind enough to tell her that she had reached the wrong Nancy....
Thank you for your patience, Nancy C. May I show the same patience if a little old lady calls me at 2am...
Jane's parents live next door to Nana. Nana likes to wander in and say hello occasionally (often she is unaware that she is in the wrong apartment...) It seems that she brought home a note with some phone numbers on it, thinking that it was hers. Jane has a sister named Nancy, and her name and number were on this note.
The next nite, Nancy C received a phone call. At 2am.
"Hi Nancy!"
"Who is this?"
"It's your mother!" Nancy recognized my mother's voice, and was kind enough to tell her that she had reached the wrong Nancy....
Thank you for your patience, Nancy C. May I show the same patience if a little old lady calls me at 2am...
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Field Trip
Often, my mother's assisted living facility books tickets to shows around the Boston area, providing a bus to get there and back. Nana is OK to go, as long as she has a "companion", so I volunteered to go along. I was hoping for the Foliage tour and lunch in New Hampshire; but her first choice was the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Watch out Yo Yo Ma, here we come!
We were due to leave at 8:45 am, and headed out with seven other orchestra fans. Traffic was particularly heavy, due to the weather. "Boy, this traffic is awful. I would hate to drive in this every day." I agreed. Five minutes later: "Boy, this traffic is awful. I would hate to drive in this every day." Oy. This is going to be a long trip.
Twenty minutes later, she begins looking around frantically, patting all her pockets. "I've lost my wallet!"
" I have it, Mom. It's in my purse."
"Oh, thank goodness."
90 minutes and two wrong turns later, we arrived at Symphony Hall... thirty minutes late. Seats were limited, and by this time, there were only single seats spread out around the hall. Nana grabbed my hand, and we both looked desperately at the man who would be seating us. After a few phone calls, we were sent upstairs to find seats together. At first, Nana sat at a seat two down from the doorway, and I stood out of the way outside but in sight. Within minutes, I see the woman sitting next to Nana is laughing, and Nana is smiling. Two seats opened up, and Nana moved next to me after saying goodbye to everyone in her row.
Nana really enjoyed the music. She listened with rapt attention for the first fifteen minutes, and then started looking around frantically. "I have your wallet," I said. "Oh, thank goodness!" Back to the music.
Rustle, rustle. Nana is looking again. I lean over and whisper, "I have your wallet." She breaks out in giggles. "Oh, that's right!" I am reminded of the many times growing up, when one of us would get the giggles in church... "Shhhh...", I said with a smile. She smiled back and put a finger to her lips. She listened to the rest of the concert without breaking concentration.
We drove back to her home, and she became more confused as the day wore on. She asked me if I needed lunch, and asked if she could offer to buy everyone lunch back at her home. She then worried that "all of my brothers must be hungry" since we weren't at home to feed them. (Um, I have one brother, he lives in Wisconsin, and he is very capable of making himself a sandwich...) I tried my best to keep her oriented through lunch, and she did a pretty good job.
Was this a long day? Yeah, I could definitely use a nap. Travelling at Nana speed is a challenge, like a marathon. Move steadily, and keep your patience. If you go off track, take a few breaths and get back in the race.
We were due to leave at 8:45 am, and headed out with seven other orchestra fans. Traffic was particularly heavy, due to the weather. "Boy, this traffic is awful. I would hate to drive in this every day." I agreed. Five minutes later: "Boy, this traffic is awful. I would hate to drive in this every day." Oy. This is going to be a long trip.
Twenty minutes later, she begins looking around frantically, patting all her pockets. "I've lost my wallet!"
" I have it, Mom. It's in my purse."
"Oh, thank goodness."
90 minutes and two wrong turns later, we arrived at Symphony Hall... thirty minutes late. Seats were limited, and by this time, there were only single seats spread out around the hall. Nana grabbed my hand, and we both looked desperately at the man who would be seating us. After a few phone calls, we were sent upstairs to find seats together. At first, Nana sat at a seat two down from the doorway, and I stood out of the way outside but in sight. Within minutes, I see the woman sitting next to Nana is laughing, and Nana is smiling. Two seats opened up, and Nana moved next to me after saying goodbye to everyone in her row.
Nana really enjoyed the music. She listened with rapt attention for the first fifteen minutes, and then started looking around frantically. "I have your wallet," I said. "Oh, thank goodness!" Back to the music.
Rustle, rustle. Nana is looking again. I lean over and whisper, "I have your wallet." She breaks out in giggles. "Oh, that's right!" I am reminded of the many times growing up, when one of us would get the giggles in church... "Shhhh...", I said with a smile. She smiled back and put a finger to her lips. She listened to the rest of the concert without breaking concentration.
We drove back to her home, and she became more confused as the day wore on. She asked me if I needed lunch, and asked if she could offer to buy everyone lunch back at her home. She then worried that "all of my brothers must be hungry" since we weren't at home to feed them. (Um, I have one brother, he lives in Wisconsin, and he is very capable of making himself a sandwich...) I tried my best to keep her oriented through lunch, and she did a pretty good job.
Was this a long day? Yeah, I could definitely use a nap. Travelling at Nana speed is a challenge, like a marathon. Move steadily, and keep your patience. If you go off track, take a few breaths and get back in the race.
Monday, September 26, 2011
New Company
During the summer, Tom and I left the area and we needed someone to take care of Nana's needs: fill the prescription boxes, check in and make sure she was doing OK. I turned to Michelle, one of Ed's best friends and a nursing student at UMass Dartmouth. Not only did she do a great job, but Nana loved the extra attention-- when asked if Michelle was one of her granddaughters, she answered, "No, but the day that I adopted her as one of my own was one of the happiest days of my life"... :)
So when Nana showed some distress in the midafternoons, calling my cell phone 6+ times a day, I turned to hiring another young friend for her. I visited my nurse friends at the local high school and asked for recommendations for an after-school companion for her: someone fun, caring, and willing to walk/bowl/play pool for a couple of hours twice a week. After listening to my request, one of the nurses suggested that her son might be interested. We met, and Sam started last week.
What a score! He is terrific-- so terrific that Nana actually remembered his visit the next day and told the activities director all about him- "Such a nice man, and he was hired just for me!" And the number of phone calls last week? Three. All week. SCORE!!!
So when Nana showed some distress in the midafternoons, calling my cell phone 6+ times a day, I turned to hiring another young friend for her. I visited my nurse friends at the local high school and asked for recommendations for an after-school companion for her: someone fun, caring, and willing to walk/bowl/play pool for a couple of hours twice a week. After listening to my request, one of the nurses suggested that her son might be interested. We met, and Sam started last week.
What a score! He is terrific-- so terrific that Nana actually remembered his visit the next day and told the activities director all about him- "Such a nice man, and he was hired just for me!" And the number of phone calls last week? Three. All week. SCORE!!!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Becky's "Adventures"
Nana surprises me every time I see her with her newest adventure as she refers to it. As many of my friends know, every time I go to see her it is guaranteed that I have some story about my day. Here are some of my favorites:
The keys: Nana cannot keep track of keys. Now she hides them throughout her apartment, usually in pants pockets, on drawstrings, inseam, wherever she can hide it from the robbers. Before we moved her out of Indy one of the tasks I had was to empty her safety deposit box. Nana told me that she had all the keys for me when I arrived, I just needed to know which one to use. I walked in to her apartment and found a cookie sheet covered in tin foil with every key she found in her apartment individually taped to the sheet along with a few paper clips. Nana- “Look how I found my keys!”
Why she needs a phone in her bedroom: Nana is a flirt. Even if she doesn’t know, she always has a new “beau” as she calls them. Despite being in her 80s with no memory, she is one hot ticket! One night I went to visit Nana with Elyse and she disconnected her phone in the living room. I found it in her room and asked why it was there. She said that she needed to have a phone in her room. Who needs a phone in their room at night? Unless its for an alarm, no one needs it. I asked why she needed it- “I get phone calls at night!” From who? “All the tall, dark, handsome men that see me and want my number”
Santa: Nana looooves to go out in public any time we are willing to take her (its quite an undertaking!) Every Christmas Eve we go to Oconnors Pub where Nana is guaranteed to get some form of beer, as if she wasn’t already loopy! On our way out of the restaurant, there was a man wearing a red tshirt with a grey beard. He was a bit heavy, but not Santa size. Nana spotted him, reached out, patted his tummy and said “Merry Christmas Santa!” His wife burst out laughing and we ran out as fast as we could.
Kisses for all! This summer Nana upped her flirt to a new level. She has always been loving to her family with lots of hugs, but this summer she has decided it is time to share the love. While there with Anne and Leigh Nana stopped all of the residents, including a poor woman in a wheel chair, telling them how lucky they are and giving a big kiss. To top it all off, we got on the elevator and 2 unassuming workers were already there. Nana looked straight at one of the men and said, “Well, aren’t you going to kiss me?” I really want her in a mask come flu season…
Freckled: In addition to the great doctor stories Mom said below she also was asked about her race. After much thinking, she responded- Freckled! I think Nana just created a new race but looking at our family it certainly fits!
Every visit with Nana has certainly become an adventure, one that puts a smile on my face every time whether she is flashing a pearl ring in my face as an “ugly, cheap thing”, kissing the workers or asking for money to buy new underwear. I can't wait to hear her latest when I am home again in November!
Bex
Friday, September 9, 2011
Busy Summer
Is it really September? Time flies so fast, and I can't believe that it has taken me this long to write about Nana. Thanks so much to everyone who thinks of her regularly and checks this blog. I love to think that I can pass Nana's spirit to so many people. Her short term memory keeps getting worse; but she still manages to touch those around her. I will try to keep more up-to-date. And I will spend this weekend updating you on this Summer's adventures...
We went to the MD in July, and like always, she got a great report. Weight steady, despite many ice creams, and heart rate and blood pressure were stellar. No growth in her blood cells, so her chronic leukemia is also in check. Her only problem was with the memory test...
Doctor: "OK Jane, I'm going to ask you a few questions. Are you ready?"
Nana: "Sure. I hope I'm not going to be graded on my answers!"
Dr: "What month is it?"
N: "Well, I know it's not December." We all smiled at each other.
N: "Because that was last month. It must be January!" Oh boy.
Dr: And what season is it?
Nana looked at her clothes: a summery top and some capris.
N: Um, Winter? Yes, winter. Winter is in January."
Dr: Ok. So where are we right now?
N: What do you mean?
Dr: Where do you live?
N: New York!
Dr: City?
N: New York City!
Oy. At least she didnt say she was a Yankees fan.....
We have adjusted her meds and she is doing a little better with her short term memory. She was able to recount much of her visit with John (her son, my brother) and his family, while she doesn't remember many of her other visits this summer. But day to day, she remains in a happy place. And that is wonderful. Even if it is in New York.... :)
We went to the MD in July, and like always, she got a great report. Weight steady, despite many ice creams, and heart rate and blood pressure were stellar. No growth in her blood cells, so her chronic leukemia is also in check. Her only problem was with the memory test...
Doctor: "OK Jane, I'm going to ask you a few questions. Are you ready?"
Nana: "Sure. I hope I'm not going to be graded on my answers!"
Dr: "What month is it?"
N: "Well, I know it's not December." We all smiled at each other.
N: "Because that was last month. It must be January!" Oh boy.
Dr: And what season is it?
Nana looked at her clothes: a summery top and some capris.
N: Um, Winter? Yes, winter. Winter is in January."
Dr: Ok. So where are we right now?
N: What do you mean?
Dr: Where do you live?
N: New York!
Dr: City?
N: New York City!
Oy. At least she didnt say she was a Yankees fan.....
We have adjusted her meds and she is doing a little better with her short term memory. She was able to recount much of her visit with John (her son, my brother) and his family, while she doesn't remember many of her other visits this summer. But day to day, she remains in a happy place. And that is wonderful. Even if it is in New York.... :)
Monday, June 6, 2011
Another Evening in the ER...
Mom has two favorite expressions right now. The first is "I'm dizzy." This means, "My brain feels scrambled and I am having trouble understanding anything right now." Giving her a job, or just a sense of direction, such as sending her down to lunch or taking a walk with her, usually cures this.
Her second expression is "I have chest pain." This means, "I am feeling very anxious right now." Reassurance, a quick check of vital signs, and a Tylenol usually take care of this. The attendants in assisted living know these tricks, and they are usually quite successful.
Last nite, they reassured her and sent her down to dinner. Nana sat down, looked around the room and said to the manager of the Cafe, "I can't eat. I'm dizzy and I have chest pain." The manager immediately called 911. (No blame to the manager. When someone says something so ominous, that is the correct strategy 95% of the time!)
I was walking the dog on the beach at the time, planning out my next 24 hours... Clean the cottage, go through the fridge, take out the trash and recyclables, start packing for our trip, and then head home around noon on Monday and go see Mom.....when I received the call that she was on her way to the ER. Sigh... Stuff the wet, stinky dog in the back seat of the van, and off to Worcester....
On the way home, I tried calling the hospital to give them a heads up-- Mom sounds very articulate, but she is alert and oriented to self only. But she will charm the crap out of you and you won't even realize that she doesn't know what she is talking about. But Mom is so good at this game that no one calls me back. I arrive at the hospital 90 minutes later, and she is sitting up, smiling at everyone. Hooked up to monitors, her heartrate is 60, oxygenation is 100%, and her blood pressure is 110/60. The doctor comes in when he sees me arrive and says, "She seems ok-- just a few anomalies in her bloodwork." Yea, that would be her leukemia. He looked at me, surprised, and said, "Well that answers a lot of my questions." I then defined her two favorite expressions: "I'm dizzy" and "I'm having chest pain." He remarked,"And that answers my other questions." He smiled, and said that just to be cautious we would need to stay for another 4 hours. I settled in for a bit of a wait.
After the first hour, we looked out in the hallway to see one of my Mom's friends from her assisted living residence. "Rose!" I called and she smiled and waved. She was with her niece, and she had come in with arm pain. Oy. The ER was full, so Rose sat outside Mom's room and the ladies visited. Rose's niece and I decided that if they could have served us a little wine and cheese, this wouldn't be half bad....
We got back at around 11:30pm, and I tucked Mom into bed. I think she enjoyed her little escapade (her only complaint? "There aren't many men around here. Do the men go to another hospital?") Thank goodness that there weren't, or she might have dizziness and chest pain again tonite...
So, a little flip in my schedule (I will be heading back to the beach this morning to finish my chores down there, and I will leave for work from there tomorrow... after I check in with Mom this am...) All's well that ends well...
Her second expression is "I have chest pain." This means, "I am feeling very anxious right now." Reassurance, a quick check of vital signs, and a Tylenol usually take care of this. The attendants in assisted living know these tricks, and they are usually quite successful.
Last nite, they reassured her and sent her down to dinner. Nana sat down, looked around the room and said to the manager of the Cafe, "I can't eat. I'm dizzy and I have chest pain." The manager immediately called 911. (No blame to the manager. When someone says something so ominous, that is the correct strategy 95% of the time!)
I was walking the dog on the beach at the time, planning out my next 24 hours... Clean the cottage, go through the fridge, take out the trash and recyclables, start packing for our trip, and then head home around noon on Monday and go see Mom.....when I received the call that she was on her way to the ER. Sigh... Stuff the wet, stinky dog in the back seat of the van, and off to Worcester....
On the way home, I tried calling the hospital to give them a heads up-- Mom sounds very articulate, but she is alert and oriented to self only. But she will charm the crap out of you and you won't even realize that she doesn't know what she is talking about. But Mom is so good at this game that no one calls me back. I arrive at the hospital 90 minutes later, and she is sitting up, smiling at everyone. Hooked up to monitors, her heartrate is 60, oxygenation is 100%, and her blood pressure is 110/60. The doctor comes in when he sees me arrive and says, "She seems ok-- just a few anomalies in her bloodwork." Yea, that would be her leukemia. He looked at me, surprised, and said, "Well that answers a lot of my questions." I then defined her two favorite expressions: "I'm dizzy" and "I'm having chest pain." He remarked,"And that answers my other questions." He smiled, and said that just to be cautious we would need to stay for another 4 hours. I settled in for a bit of a wait.
After the first hour, we looked out in the hallway to see one of my Mom's friends from her assisted living residence. "Rose!" I called and she smiled and waved. She was with her niece, and she had come in with arm pain. Oy. The ER was full, so Rose sat outside Mom's room and the ladies visited. Rose's niece and I decided that if they could have served us a little wine and cheese, this wouldn't be half bad....
We got back at around 11:30pm, and I tucked Mom into bed. I think she enjoyed her little escapade (her only complaint? "There aren't many men around here. Do the men go to another hospital?") Thank goodness that there weren't, or she might have dizziness and chest pain again tonite...
So, a little flip in my schedule (I will be heading back to the beach this morning to finish my chores down there, and I will leave for work from there tomorrow... after I check in with Mom this am...) All's well that ends well...
Sunday, June 5, 2011
One more overdue post
Sorry to post so many updates on the same day.... I lost my "password" and got a little behind. (OK, I forgot my password. Like most children of Alzheimers patients, I hate to admit to a faulty memory..)
Mom's grandson Ben is getting married in July to the lovely Anna, a woman that I know Nana will adore. Unfortunately, this wedding is in Greenville SC, a distance that is just too far for her. I know her limitations, but I wasn't sure if she would understand our reluctance to have her travel to the wedding.
The invitation arrived, and Nana opened the envelope. She looked at me and said, "Oh. I would LOVE to be there." She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Will there be family there at the wedding?" I assured her that all the aunts and uncles planned to make the trip with their families. She was relieved by this news. "Then I think that I should stay home. I might be ok, but I also might make a scene, and if I did, I would feel terrible. The attention should always remain on Ben and Anna."
That's my Mom.
Mom's grandson Ben is getting married in July to the lovely Anna, a woman that I know Nana will adore. Unfortunately, this wedding is in Greenville SC, a distance that is just too far for her. I know her limitations, but I wasn't sure if she would understand our reluctance to have her travel to the wedding.
The invitation arrived, and Nana opened the envelope. She looked at me and said, "Oh. I would LOVE to be there." She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Will there be family there at the wedding?" I assured her that all the aunts and uncles planned to make the trip with their families. She was relieved by this news. "Then I think that I should stay home. I might be ok, but I also might make a scene, and if I did, I would feel terrible. The attention should always remain on Ben and Anna."
That's my Mom.
A bit of Confabulation
I was helping Mom change into a new shirt after her breakfast a few weeks ago (Pancakes and strawberries can make quite a stain), when I noticed a spot on her right shoulder that I had never noticed before. I made an appointment with the dermatologist, and she reluctantly decided to remove some tissue for biopsy. Surprisingly, the biopsy showed melanoma in situ (in other words, early melanoma which has not spread.) She was scheduled for surgery, and the site was removed. For two weeks, a visiting nurse came to change the dressing, and then the stitches were removed.
Having a visiting nurse is not something that she minds. At all. She loves visitors, and enjoys sharing stories. Of course, sometimes these stories get a little convoluted. Sometimes, they are just plain wrong. So, I wasn't too surprised when the nurse asked me outside of Mom's earshot, "Um, this is kind of personal, but.. Did your sister die recently?" Uh, no; all present and accounted for. "Your Mom told me that her daughter Mary died at a young age. But then later in the visit, she looked at another family photo and said, "Wait, there's Mary. She's still alive, and lives down the street, I think." Well, she's healthy. But Virginia is a bit of a distance from Massachusetts.
She has also been killing off my father at an earlier and earlier age. Dad died 12 years ago, 2 days before his 70th birthday. She has been informing everyone that he died at age 43. Hmmm...
But like most of her mixed up stories, there is some truth to them. Dad had a sister Mary Claire, who died when she was 13, and her passing haunted my father and his parents. She was probably thinking of her when she said that her daughter Mary was gone. And as for Dad, they were married for 45 years, a number close to 43-- I think that is why she uses that number as his lifespan.
Stitches are out, but the doc says that she needs a little more work-- the melanoma extended beyond the margins that he removed (it is still "in situ". There is just a few more cells to remove...) We will do that in July. And Mom will once again be able to have a visiting nurse to talk with. I'm looking forward to more fractured family history lessons!
Having a visiting nurse is not something that she minds. At all. She loves visitors, and enjoys sharing stories. Of course, sometimes these stories get a little convoluted. Sometimes, they are just plain wrong. So, I wasn't too surprised when the nurse asked me outside of Mom's earshot, "Um, this is kind of personal, but.. Did your sister die recently?" Uh, no; all present and accounted for. "Your Mom told me that her daughter Mary died at a young age. But then later in the visit, she looked at another family photo and said, "Wait, there's Mary. She's still alive, and lives down the street, I think." Well, she's healthy. But Virginia is a bit of a distance from Massachusetts.
She has also been killing off my father at an earlier and earlier age. Dad died 12 years ago, 2 days before his 70th birthday. She has been informing everyone that he died at age 43. Hmmm...
But like most of her mixed up stories, there is some truth to them. Dad had a sister Mary Claire, who died when she was 13, and her passing haunted my father and his parents. She was probably thinking of her when she said that her daughter Mary was gone. And as for Dad, they were married for 45 years, a number close to 43-- I think that is why she uses that number as his lifespan.
Stitches are out, but the doc says that she needs a little more work-- the melanoma extended beyond the margins that he removed (it is still "in situ". There is just a few more cells to remove...) We will do that in July. And Mom will once again be able to have a visiting nurse to talk with. I'm looking forward to more fractured family history lessons!
Who are you?
It was the Thursday before Memorial Day-- time to take the winter wear out of Nana's closet and bring in the bright, summery clothes for the season ahead. I arrived at 8:30 am with a laundry basket and a large bag of her clothing, timing my visit for when she was usually at church. (I figured that I would get all the clothes in and out of her closet while she was occupied, so that I wouldn't get too much "help"-- haha.)
"Oh, hello." She was sitting in her bedroom, tying her shoes.
"Hi Mom. I have all your summer clothes. Just thought I would switch out your closet and get you ready for Summer."
"Really? It's Summertime?"
"Almost. This is Memorial Day weekend."
"Wow. I didn't know that! Good idea."
"Why don't you go downstairs and have breakfast, and then afterwards, we can go for a walk. I will get your closet done while you are gone."
"That would be lovely. Thank you."
Hmmm.... No suggestion that I join her for breakfast and then she would "help" me? No kiss?
That's when it hit me. She doesn't know who I am. She thinks that I have been hired to take care of her closets! I have always known that this day would come, but it still hurt a bit.
I dragged all her winter clothes out of the closets and stuffed them in the back of our van. I then coordinated all her summer clothes, hopefully making it easier for her to put together an outfit. After about an hour and a half, I heard the front door open. Mom turned towards the bedroom and spotted me coming out of her closet. She threw her arms wide and smiled.
"Nancy, you're here! I'm so glad to see you!"
I got a big hug and kiss. My Mom was back.
"Oh, hello." She was sitting in her bedroom, tying her shoes.
"Hi Mom. I have all your summer clothes. Just thought I would switch out your closet and get you ready for Summer."
"Really? It's Summertime?"
"Almost. This is Memorial Day weekend."
"Wow. I didn't know that! Good idea."
"Why don't you go downstairs and have breakfast, and then afterwards, we can go for a walk. I will get your closet done while you are gone."
"That would be lovely. Thank you."
Hmmm.... No suggestion that I join her for breakfast and then she would "help" me? No kiss?
That's when it hit me. She doesn't know who I am. She thinks that I have been hired to take care of her closets! I have always known that this day would come, but it still hurt a bit.
I dragged all her winter clothes out of the closets and stuffed them in the back of our van. I then coordinated all her summer clothes, hopefully making it easier for her to put together an outfit. After about an hour and a half, I heard the front door open. Mom turned towards the bedroom and spotted me coming out of her closet. She threw her arms wide and smiled.
"Nancy, you're here! I'm so glad to see you!"
I got a big hug and kiss. My Mom was back.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Living in the Present
Thursday morning, and I am trying to fit a day's worth of chores into the morning hours. My list (yes, I write a list so that I don't forget anything) included walking the dog, stopping by Town Hall, post office, CVS, working out at the gym, filling Nana's pill box and showering, all before leaving for a work meeting at 2pm... I even mapped out my chores, so I spent as little time and gas as possible. I hit the CVS, town hall and post office before arriving at Nana's.
All was quiet when I arrived at her apartment. "Good," I thought, "I will just slip in, fill her pills and slip right out." I went into the kitchen, unlocked her medicine cabinet and filled her weekly pill boxes. I then peeked in her rooms, just in case she was there, before I headed to the community room to say hello. I found her lying across her bed, resting. She opened one eye.
"Hi!," she said, smiling but not moving. "I'm being a lazy lug today." I got a sudden urge to join her. I took off my coat and joined her on the other side of the bed. "Wow," I said, "This is pretty great!" She laughed. We laid on the bed and discussed the merits of taking a little time off every once in a while. After 20 minutes, I got up and said that it was time for me to get back to my list. She said that she was going to be lazy a little while longer. I gave her a kiss and crawled out of the bed. "Good bye-- Love you, Mom!" "Oh Honey, I love you too!"
Those were the most productive and precious 20 minutes that I spent all day.
All was quiet when I arrived at her apartment. "Good," I thought, "I will just slip in, fill her pills and slip right out." I went into the kitchen, unlocked her medicine cabinet and filled her weekly pill boxes. I then peeked in her rooms, just in case she was there, before I headed to the community room to say hello. I found her lying across her bed, resting. She opened one eye.
"Hi!," she said, smiling but not moving. "I'm being a lazy lug today." I got a sudden urge to join her. I took off my coat and joined her on the other side of the bed. "Wow," I said, "This is pretty great!" She laughed. We laid on the bed and discussed the merits of taking a little time off every once in a while. After 20 minutes, I got up and said that it was time for me to get back to my list. She said that she was going to be lazy a little while longer. I gave her a kiss and crawled out of the bed. "Good bye-- Love you, Mom!" "Oh Honey, I love you too!"
Those were the most productive and precious 20 minutes that I spent all day.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
A Visit from the Slade Brigade
Mary, Allen and the five youngest Slades came out this past weekend to see Nana. I was a little nervous-- How would she do? Would she remember her family? Would the visit bring joy or anxiety?
I arrived at her apartment 30 minutes before Mary and Company. We figured that I could go through the "family picture book" and familiarize her with the Slades prior to their arrival. Mom was very excited that they were coming, and we were going through the last of the pics as they arrived. She gave everyone hugs, and told them how much they had grown. She did a great job keeping up with the conversations, and enjoyed bowling and having everyone for lunch. At one point during lunch she said,"I have an announcement to make." We all turned towards her and she said," I don't know if you know this, but I have Alzheimers disease." We looked at each other and then said,"Yup, we know." "Thank Goodness!," she said, "I was afraid you would notice I forgot things and think I was crazy!"
The next day, we came back in the afternoon and stayed through dinner. We went bowling together, and Nana was the high scorer (Candlepin bowling is the great equalizer...) We celebrated her birthday and David's at dinner, and had another wonderful visit. Mary left the next morning.
Nana called Sunday, complaining of heart pain. I headed over to see how she was doing, curious to see what she would tell me about her weekend. I gave her some Mylanta, which got rid of the pain, and asked her if she had a fun weekend. She said, "Did I?" I told her that the Slades were in town for the weekend. "How nice. And how are they doing?" I reviewed all our weekend adventures, including the results of our family bowling competition. "I won?," she exclaimed," Now, that is certainly something I wish I remembered!"
As Mary reminded me, we are no longer creating memories for Mom. When we visit, we are creating happy moments; and this weekend, she had plenty of those. Thanks for our memories, Nana.
I arrived at her apartment 30 minutes before Mary and Company. We figured that I could go through the "family picture book" and familiarize her with the Slades prior to their arrival. Mom was very excited that they were coming, and we were going through the last of the pics as they arrived. She gave everyone hugs, and told them how much they had grown. She did a great job keeping up with the conversations, and enjoyed bowling and having everyone for lunch. At one point during lunch she said,"I have an announcement to make." We all turned towards her and she said," I don't know if you know this, but I have Alzheimers disease." We looked at each other and then said,"Yup, we know." "Thank Goodness!," she said, "I was afraid you would notice I forgot things and think I was crazy!"
The next day, we came back in the afternoon and stayed through dinner. We went bowling together, and Nana was the high scorer (Candlepin bowling is the great equalizer...) We celebrated her birthday and David's at dinner, and had another wonderful visit. Mary left the next morning.
Nana called Sunday, complaining of heart pain. I headed over to see how she was doing, curious to see what she would tell me about her weekend. I gave her some Mylanta, which got rid of the pain, and asked her if she had a fun weekend. She said, "Did I?" I told her that the Slades were in town for the weekend. "How nice. And how are they doing?" I reviewed all our weekend adventures, including the results of our family bowling competition. "I won?," she exclaimed," Now, that is certainly something I wish I remembered!"
As Mary reminded me, we are no longer creating memories for Mom. When we visit, we are creating happy moments; and this weekend, she had plenty of those. Thanks for our memories, Nana.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Obsessions
Every few months, Mom has a new obsession. Not unusual with Alzheimers patients, there is often a bit of paranoia tied in... As memories fade, people often believe that others are stealing from them in other ways. I try to convince her that this is not true; and for a while, she believes me... But inevitably, she will go back to her way of thinking.
One of her first obsessions was that someone was stealing her bananas. "I bring them home, and then when I am ready to eat them, they are gone. Someone is breaking into my apartment and stealing my bananas." Despite our best efforts, Tom and I could not convince her that she was eating them herself. She began hiding bananas everywhere in her home. We'd walk into a room and smell the distinct smell of overripe bananas; and then the hunt would begin. We found them in desk drawers, closets, the dishwasher, kitchen cabinets. They would be dessicated and brown-- but Mom would insist that she knew the banana was there the whole time. I haven't smelled any bananas since Christmastime; she has moved onto a new obsession.
Maxipads. Once again, she is sure that someone is stealing them because there are less and less in the bag every day. "That's because you are using them, Mom." "Well yes-- but so is someone else!" Yesterday, I found eight packages, unopened in various areas of the apartment-- the closets, cabinets, desk drawers, behind the extra bed, in an attache case... everywhere but the bathroom ("But people will find them there!") I even found a group of jackets with a pad in each pocket... sigh. I designated a drawer in her dresser as the maxipad drawer-- I will see how many of them have been moved when I return tomorrow.
The store owner in the assisted living facility asked me if she should continue to allow Mom to purchase these pads.. "She must have 20 boxes in her apartment!" I told her to tell her that she has a drawer full in her room upstairs, but if she insists, sell them to her. It's a small price for peace of mind.
One of her first obsessions was that someone was stealing her bananas. "I bring them home, and then when I am ready to eat them, they are gone. Someone is breaking into my apartment and stealing my bananas." Despite our best efforts, Tom and I could not convince her that she was eating them herself. She began hiding bananas everywhere in her home. We'd walk into a room and smell the distinct smell of overripe bananas; and then the hunt would begin. We found them in desk drawers, closets, the dishwasher, kitchen cabinets. They would be dessicated and brown-- but Mom would insist that she knew the banana was there the whole time. I haven't smelled any bananas since Christmastime; she has moved onto a new obsession.
Maxipads. Once again, she is sure that someone is stealing them because there are less and less in the bag every day. "That's because you are using them, Mom." "Well yes-- but so is someone else!" Yesterday, I found eight packages, unopened in various areas of the apartment-- the closets, cabinets, desk drawers, behind the extra bed, in an attache case... everywhere but the bathroom ("But people will find them there!") I even found a group of jackets with a pad in each pocket... sigh. I designated a drawer in her dresser as the maxipad drawer-- I will see how many of them have been moved when I return tomorrow.
The store owner in the assisted living facility asked me if she should continue to allow Mom to purchase these pads.. "She must have 20 boxes in her apartment!" I told her to tell her that she has a drawer full in her room upstairs, but if she insists, sell them to her. It's a small price for peace of mind.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Birthdays
Birthdays were always special in our house. The birthday celebrant would pick their favorite meal, and Mom would make their favorite cake from scratch. My favorite entree would change through the years, but my favorite cake was Chocolate Chip Chiffon. Mom would fold in egg whites to make it extra fluffy, and she would shave the bittersweet chocolate with the large grater. Even when I was in college, Mom would send that cake, baked in a loaf pan and sent in a shoe box, with a ziploc baggie of buttercream frosting and a plastic knife, along with the requisite number of pink candles-- and it always managed to arrive on March 5, right on time.This March 5, I was at work. One of my coworkers asked if my Mom remembered my birthday. "Nope," I said," I don't think that she will remember." Just then, my phone rang and the name "Nana" lit up the screen.
"Hi Mom. How are you?"
"Hi Nancy. I'm a bit confused. Are you coming over to take me to the doctors today?"
"Nope. Today is Saturday, March 5. Your appointment is on Monday March 7" (Yes, I thought I would see if the date of my birth would trigger a memory...)
"Oh, I get so confused sometimes."
"Yup."
"OK, see you tomorrow!"
"Monday, Mom-- two days from now."
"Oops. Heehee. I keep forgetting."
"See you Monday. Love you Mom."
"Oh, Honey. I love you too. I don't know what I would do without you."
And I don't know what I will do without her. Or her cake :).
"Hi Mom. How are you?"
"Hi Nancy. I'm a bit confused. Are you coming over to take me to the doctors today?"
"Nope. Today is Saturday, March 5. Your appointment is on Monday March 7" (Yes, I thought I would see if the date of my birth would trigger a memory...)
"Oh, I get so confused sometimes."
"Yup."
"OK, see you tomorrow!"
"Monday, Mom-- two days from now."
"Oops. Heehee. I keep forgetting."
"See you Monday. Love you Mom."
"Oh, Honey. I love you too. I don't know what I would do without you."
And I don't know what I will do without her. Or her cake :).
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Memory gone, but brilliance remains :)
As I probably mentioned in an earlier blog, I purchased a "keyfinder" from Brookstone, which has been a godsend. A remote control is locked up in Mom's medicine cabinet, accessible by key for the staff. Her keys have a "fob" that rings when the remote button is pushed. My visits often start with the pushing of the "keyfinder" button.
I walked into her bedroom and pushed the button. I heard a ring behind me, near her front hall. I moved to the hall and pressed the button again. The ringing went off outside of her apartment. Hidden under the feather boa draped across Minerva, her marble statue, was the key FOB. She took it apart so that no one else could find her keys! After a search, I found her keys inside the pants she wore the nite before.... We both got a good laugh out of that one.....
I walked into her bedroom and pushed the button. I heard a ring behind me, near her front hall. I moved to the hall and pressed the button again. The ringing went off outside of her apartment. Hidden under the feather boa draped across Minerva, her marble statue, was the key FOB. She took it apart so that no one else could find her keys! After a search, I found her keys inside the pants she wore the nite before.... We both got a good laugh out of that one.....
Fall #2
My phone rang just as I was readying to turn it off in the movie theater. It was the Nursing Director, and she was notifying me that Mom had just fallen. "She seems fine. Vital signs are stable, and she is walking OK. She says that she hit her head, so we are putting ice on it." She reassured me that Mom was OK, and Mom also said that she was all right, just "a little shook up." I gave the Director Tom's cell phone, notified Tom, and stayed for the movie with my 7 year old neighbor. Tom went to see Mom after work and stayed for dinner; we came over after the movie.
Head injuries are tough. One of the signs you look for is confusion; that is also a hallmark of Alzheimer's. She was definitely more confused when we saw her; but it was also nighttime, a time that we don't usually see her. I took the staff's word that she was "her usual nighttime self" and headed home-- I would come back this morning and reassess.
Mom was sitting at breakfast when I arrived, her usual happy self. She has a rather lovely purple bruise on her left temple, but is otherwise fine. Her gait has returned to normal, and she is still her happy self, thank Goodness!
Head injuries are tough. One of the signs you look for is confusion; that is also a hallmark of Alzheimer's. She was definitely more confused when we saw her; but it was also nighttime, a time that we don't usually see her. I took the staff's word that she was "her usual nighttime self" and headed home-- I would come back this morning and reassess.
Mom was sitting at breakfast when I arrived, her usual happy self. She has a rather lovely purple bruise on her left temple, but is otherwise fine. Her gait has returned to normal, and she is still her happy self, thank Goodness!
Friday, February 18, 2011
Changing Roles
I went to visit Nana today, and I now realize that we have officially changed roles. The Nursing Director pulled me aside, with a big grin on her face.
"I was downstairs around dinnertime last nite, and I looked over to see your Mom, and she wasn't wearing any pants. I then realized that she was in her bathing suit, so I sent one of the CNAs down to get her. She told her that she was in her swimsuit because she didn't want to miss swim class, 'because my daughter bawled me out for skipping class yesterday.' " Yes, she is now using one of my favorite teenage expressions...
Looking on the bright side, she did remember our discussion about how important exercising was to keep her Alzheimers at bay.....
"I was downstairs around dinnertime last nite, and I looked over to see your Mom, and she wasn't wearing any pants. I then realized that she was in her bathing suit, so I sent one of the CNAs down to get her. She told her that she was in her swimsuit because she didn't want to miss swim class, 'because my daughter bawled me out for skipping class yesterday.' " Yes, she is now using one of my favorite teenage expressions...
Looking on the bright side, she did remember our discussion about how important exercising was to keep her Alzheimers at bay.....
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Some Favorite Phone Conversations... :)
And now for a little levity: some of my favorite NanaPap messages:
1. Ring. "HI Mom"
"Hi Nancy, it's your Mom. Quick question: I know that I have leukemia, but what's that other thing?"
"Alzheimers"
"Oh, that's right-- Alzheimers-- I keep forgetting!"
2. Ring. "Hi Mom"
"Hi Nancy, it's your Mom. Could you help me out? I'm lost. I don't know where I am."
"You are in your apartment."
"I am? How can you be sure?"
"Because you are calling me from your house phone."
Silence for a moment. Giggle. "You're right! Thanks hon." click.
3. Voicemail message:
"Hi Nancy. This is Jane Papineau. I just wanted to let you know that I am getting a bit confused, so I have decided that I am moving in with my daughter Nancy. I think you have her number, but if you don't, you can call here and they can give it to you. She lives just a few miles down the road, so you should be able to find me." (Husband Tom, listening to this message... "Oh no she's not!" :))
heeheeheehee
1. Ring. "HI Mom"
"Hi Nancy, it's your Mom. Quick question: I know that I have leukemia, but what's that other thing?"
"Alzheimers"
"Oh, that's right-- Alzheimers-- I keep forgetting!"
2. Ring. "Hi Mom"
"Hi Nancy, it's your Mom. Could you help me out? I'm lost. I don't know where I am."
"You are in your apartment."
"I am? How can you be sure?"
"Because you are calling me from your house phone."
Silence for a moment. Giggle. "You're right! Thanks hon." click.
3. Voicemail message:
"Hi Nancy. This is Jane Papineau. I just wanted to let you know that I am getting a bit confused, so I have decided that I am moving in with my daughter Nancy. I think you have her number, but if you don't, you can call here and they can give it to you. She lives just a few miles down the road, so you should be able to find me." (Husband Tom, listening to this message... "Oh no she's not!" :))
heeheeheehee
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Memories vs Moments
A second visit to Nana this week, and a second call, one hour after I left. "Did you stop by today? I can't remember."
Now, this does make me wonder, should I even stop by? She doesn't even remember! And, the answer is YES. She still has so much to teach me.
When I walk in the door, Nana's face lights up. We go for a walk, or share a meal, or clean up some problem that has been bothering her.
This week, we wrote a letter to a young high school student. Nana is part of a Senior-to-Student pen pal program with the Special Needs program at SHS, and we wrote her introductory letter. I asked questions, and she described her childhood. Most, I had heard before, some of the info was new.... and whether the new info is true or false is up for debate with my siblings.. haha! But her closing line was very cool:
"In life, you often need to choose whether to laugh or cry. I choose laughter."
So, right now, I realize that I am not giving Mom happy new memories. I am giving her happy moments. But she is still giving me, and so many other people, great memories; and great life lessons. Now, go find something to laugh about! :)
Now, this does make me wonder, should I even stop by? She doesn't even remember! And, the answer is YES. She still has so much to teach me.
When I walk in the door, Nana's face lights up. We go for a walk, or share a meal, or clean up some problem that has been bothering her.
This week, we wrote a letter to a young high school student. Nana is part of a Senior-to-Student pen pal program with the Special Needs program at SHS, and we wrote her introductory letter. I asked questions, and she described her childhood. Most, I had heard before, some of the info was new.... and whether the new info is true or false is up for debate with my siblings.. haha! But her closing line was very cool:
"In life, you often need to choose whether to laugh or cry. I choose laughter."
So, right now, I realize that I am not giving Mom happy new memories. I am giving her happy moments. But she is still giving me, and so many other people, great memories; and great life lessons. Now, go find something to laugh about! :)
Thursday, February 3, 2011
A Day of Phone Calls
9am: RING. Uhoh-- Nana calling during Mass time, she is not having a good morning.
"Hi Mom-- How are you?"
" I'm feeling a little punk."
(We review symptoms, and agree a little tea and toast will make things better.)
9:10am: RING.
"Hi Mom"
"Hi Nance-- I'm feeling a little punk"
"Have you called for tea and toast?"
"Oh, yeah, they are bringing it in right now"
"OK, eat up and I will see you at 11:30"
"All right, I will see you then."
I arrive at 11:30, and she is dressed and feeling better. We head downstairs to the "Bistro", where we have lunch with two of her friends. We talk about the snowy weather, and the ladies reminisce about the big storms they faced when they were younger. I mention one of our childhood neighbors, and Nana shares stories about the great times we had, needing no help in straightening out the facts (yay!) I left at 1pm, feeling pretty good about how she was doing.
Thirty minutes later, the phone rang.
"Nancy, did I call you this morning?"
"Yup, and then we had lunch. Remember?"
"We DID? I don't remember that!" I reviewed what we ate, and who we spoke to, and she said she remembered.... but I am not sure that's true... But when we hung up, she sounded more upbeat. I left my phone at home and ran a few errands.
Returning to the house, I check my phone. Four missed calls. The phone rings again. The next call is the most painful.
"Hi Nance-- Could you make me a doctor's appointment? My Alzheimers is getting worse today, so I think I need some new medicine to fix it."
"Mom, you are on all the medicines. They haven't come up with a medicine that fixes this yet."
"So, I'm just going to get worse, until I just fade away?"
"The scientists are working hard for a cure; but right now, they don't have an answer. I'm sorry."
"Oh....." Silence. "Well, Fish."
I agree, Mom. FISH.
"Hi Mom-- How are you?"
" I'm feeling a little punk."
(We review symptoms, and agree a little tea and toast will make things better.)
9:10am: RING.
"Hi Mom"
"Hi Nance-- I'm feeling a little punk"
"Have you called for tea and toast?"
"Oh, yeah, they are bringing it in right now"
"OK, eat up and I will see you at 11:30"
"All right, I will see you then."
I arrive at 11:30, and she is dressed and feeling better. We head downstairs to the "Bistro", where we have lunch with two of her friends. We talk about the snowy weather, and the ladies reminisce about the big storms they faced when they were younger. I mention one of our childhood neighbors, and Nana shares stories about the great times we had, needing no help in straightening out the facts (yay!) I left at 1pm, feeling pretty good about how she was doing.
Thirty minutes later, the phone rang.
"Nancy, did I call you this morning?"
"Yup, and then we had lunch. Remember?"
"We DID? I don't remember that!" I reviewed what we ate, and who we spoke to, and she said she remembered.... but I am not sure that's true... But when we hung up, she sounded more upbeat. I left my phone at home and ran a few errands.
Returning to the house, I check my phone. Four missed calls. The phone rings again. The next call is the most painful.
"Hi Nance-- Could you make me a doctor's appointment? My Alzheimers is getting worse today, so I think I need some new medicine to fix it."
"Mom, you are on all the medicines. They haven't come up with a medicine that fixes this yet."
"So, I'm just going to get worse, until I just fade away?"
"The scientists are working hard for a cure; but right now, they don't have an answer. I'm sorry."
"Oh....." Silence. "Well, Fish."
I agree, Mom. FISH.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Becky's Perspective
Time for the granddaughter perspective. Well, really, most of the time I am her daughter but at least I am family. Nana was the ideal grandmother to have growing up. Every summer we would head down to Keowee Key to visit her and Grandpa and have to be pulled away wanting to stay longer. In the bunch of 19 grandkids I am 3rd and the oldest girl (this makes me the favorite!) Nana would take us hiking, blueberry picking, swimming, shopping, anywhere we asked. Some of my fondest memories are from special trips I got to have for my week with Nana, Grandpa and their dachshund Gabe. Going in to 2nd grade I flew all by myself to go see them for a week before my family came for a week too. Who wants camp when you get to go plan a whole week of whatever you want to do and be doted on by your grandparents? Certainly not me. A few years later I got to spend a week with just my brother in South Carolina. What a nice sister I was, accompanying a younger brother who did not want to fly by himself just to spend a week of being spoiled with two, yes TWO freezers full of cookies.
After Grandpa passed away Nana kept the house for a few years and we still visited every summer. Once she moved to Indianapolis she started visiting us more in Massachusetts and her visits during my yearly musicals was always a highlight of the year even if I had to give up my bedroom for a few days. When I started looking at colleges I knew pharmacy was where I was headed and simply checked off the states I had family in. Butler University came up in my search just a few miles from Nana and I liked it on the website but really loved it when I realized this meant I would have an excuse to visit Nana that summer. Mom and I traveled out that June and I guess the rest is history- I am still here 6 years later even though I had to bring her back to Massachusetts with me last year. I need to thank her more for getting me here even if she thought Dad wasn’t going to let me go so far from home.
Once I moved to Indy Nana was my escape to reality to see faces outside of 18-22 for a few hours and food that didn’t come from trays at a cafeteria. She would pick me up every few weeks to join her for church and dinner or to visit other family members throughout the Midwest. A few years into my stay at Butler she started forgetting where Butler was or called me by other names but it never phased me. She just hasn’t been here in a while, she has a large family of course she doesn’t know my name. Its hard not to blame yourself sometimes- what if I realized sooner and got her help from a doctor? Could we have stopped this before it got so far?
I know why we denied it for so long and didn’t catch on. Nana is a brilliant woman. Nana is a terrific actress. She is just now starting to lose that but she can still fool people. Here is a typical conversation:
Hi Nana!
Hi (no name). How are you?
How are the kids/ how is the family/ how is school?
All generic questions. You give her information and she builds off it. She truly doesn’t know the answers but when you tell her things it leads her to the next part. Tah dah! She caught you! Just ask my best friend that I reintroduced to Nana one night and Nana smiled and said “I remember you!” She fell for it… for 5 minutes until Nana asked who she was.
I have plenty of Nana stories to share over the next I hope years as she makes us laugh and cry. I promise some of my favorites later in the week. No matter what memory she loses she certainly has not lost her sense of humor!
Sunday's Visit
We stopped by to see Nana yesterday, after a call where she mentioned that she had an itchy red rash around her neck. This had happened about a year ago as well, and it was a contact dermatitis-- she was using dishsoap that advertised that doing dishes with this product would leave you with soft hands... as a lotion.
She greeted us at her door with open arms-- she still recognizes us on most days, and she loves when my husband Tom comes along (she often mentions that she misses seeing more men in her life...) I checked out her skin, and agreed with my assessment that Nana was having an allergic reaction to some skin product.
"Ok, Mom, let's check out your bathroom. I want to see what products you are using on your skin." We walked into her bathroom, and there was quite an array of products spread across her vanity: liquid soaps, toners, lotions, lip balms, deodorants, cleaners... I brought a trash bag, a marker and some adhesive labels to mark the products properly, as well as some cortisone cream for the itchy rash. I asked her to show me what she uses on her skin.
"Well, a doctor here told me to use this orange bottle of lotion on my skin." Jackpot. The orange bottle was Softsoap. "Mom, that is not lotion, that is soap. That is causing your skin to dry out." "Ohhhh! What should I use instead? I know that you told me to use this cream here before, but a DOCTOR suggested the orange bottle."
Sigh. I marked the soap with a big sticker that said "SOAP". Lotions were marked with the word "Lotion" as well as the part of her body she should put it on (at her request.) I threw out the toners and half-empty tubs around the sink. I then noticed the Glade air freshener. "When do you use this, Mom?"
"Oh," she said, "That's my underarm deodorant". That's what I thought. A big sticker was slapped on that bad boy, and it was placed behind the toilet. I took the Secret deodorant spray and put a "Deodorant" sticker on it. Problem solved, for the moment. :)
She greeted us at her door with open arms-- she still recognizes us on most days, and she loves when my husband Tom comes along (she often mentions that she misses seeing more men in her life...) I checked out her skin, and agreed with my assessment that Nana was having an allergic reaction to some skin product.
"Ok, Mom, let's check out your bathroom. I want to see what products you are using on your skin." We walked into her bathroom, and there was quite an array of products spread across her vanity: liquid soaps, toners, lotions, lip balms, deodorants, cleaners... I brought a trash bag, a marker and some adhesive labels to mark the products properly, as well as some cortisone cream for the itchy rash. I asked her to show me what she uses on her skin.
"Well, a doctor here told me to use this orange bottle of lotion on my skin." Jackpot. The orange bottle was Softsoap. "Mom, that is not lotion, that is soap. That is causing your skin to dry out." "Ohhhh! What should I use instead? I know that you told me to use this cream here before, but a DOCTOR suggested the orange bottle."
Sigh. I marked the soap with a big sticker that said "SOAP". Lotions were marked with the word "Lotion" as well as the part of her body she should put it on (at her request.) I threw out the toners and half-empty tubs around the sink. I then noticed the Glade air freshener. "When do you use this, Mom?"
"Oh," she said, "That's my underarm deodorant". That's what I thought. A big sticker was slapped on that bad boy, and it was placed behind the toilet. I took the Secret deodorant spray and put a "Deodorant" sticker on it. Problem solved, for the moment. :)
Phone Calls
Depending on the day, I receive a few phone calls from Nana. Sometimes, they make me laugh, sometimes I want to cry. Other days, I just stare at the phone and let the call go to my answering machine-- I just don't have it in me to be patient, and I never want her to hear me sound annoyed with her-- she can't help calling; she is scared of what is going on in her brain. On those days, I listen to the message a little later and then go visit if necessary.
Nana has decided that I am more than one person-- I am her daughter, Nancy, as well as a very nice nurse who stops in to see her, also named Nancy. She has not noticed that we have the same phone number, so I often receive two phone calls in a row:
Ring. "Hi Nancy, it's your Mom. I think I need to see a doctor. My Alzheimers is getting worse. Could you make an appointment for me? If you can't drive me, that's ok-- I can ask someone here to help."
Ring. "Hi, Nancy? This is Jane, Jane Papineau. I am not feeling too well, my Alzheimers is really acting up. My daughter is making me an appointment, but if she can't drive me, could you give me a ride? Thank you so much."
Sometimes, the calls are a little rough. Two months ago, her calls revolved around what was happening to her. " I know that there is no cure for Alzheimers. Is this just going to keep getting worse until I don't remember anything at all?"
"Yes, I think so Mom."
"So, I will forget everything about me, and forget how to dress or walk or eat? And then I'll just fade away? Is it painful?"
"From what I read, it isn't painful. But yes, you will forget how to do most things. But from what I also read, although you may have trouble communicating, we will always know you love us, and you will always know that we love you."
"Ohhhhhh.... well that's all that matters. It sounds like this be more painful for you than me. Sorry about that." These calls make me cry.
Nana has decided that I am more than one person-- I am her daughter, Nancy, as well as a very nice nurse who stops in to see her, also named Nancy. She has not noticed that we have the same phone number, so I often receive two phone calls in a row:
Ring. "Hi Nancy, it's your Mom. I think I need to see a doctor. My Alzheimers is getting worse. Could you make an appointment for me? If you can't drive me, that's ok-- I can ask someone here to help."
Ring. "Hi, Nancy? This is Jane, Jane Papineau. I am not feeling too well, my Alzheimers is really acting up. My daughter is making me an appointment, but if she can't drive me, could you give me a ride? Thank you so much."
Sometimes, the calls are a little rough. Two months ago, her calls revolved around what was happening to her. " I know that there is no cure for Alzheimers. Is this just going to keep getting worse until I don't remember anything at all?"
"Yes, I think so Mom."
"So, I will forget everything about me, and forget how to dress or walk or eat? And then I'll just fade away? Is it painful?"
"From what I read, it isn't painful. But yes, you will forget how to do most things. But from what I also read, although you may have trouble communicating, we will always know you love us, and you will always know that we love you."
"Ohhhhhh.... well that's all that matters. It sounds like this be more painful for you than me. Sorry about that." These calls make me cry.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
A Little Background on Nana
Nana Pap has always been my idol. She grew up outside NYC, and the Depression was in full swing (she was born in 1929.) Like so many, her father lost his job during this time. Her mother was a seamstress and quite a character-- we never met our grandfather, and wondered how Mom turned out so normal "My father was my rock"... She enjoyed her high school years, as part of a group called "The Big 10 and Mazzie"-- many of these friends are still with her, and she has many strong memories of this time. After high school, she went to Wellesley College on a minority scholarship (she was Catholic), and she majored in Chemistry. Her first job was in a chemical lab in NJ, and she met the love of her life there. After marrying, she quit work and waited for her first child, who arrived five long years later. She had another 4 children in the next five years, and her favorite vocation, motherhood, was started.
Nana Pap was the mother that everyone wished they had. She was the queen of volunteering-- class Mom, President of the PTA, CCD Mom, and Head of the CCD program-- when it came to volunteering, she didn't know how to say "No"... something all of her children have also had trouble doing...haha. She made meals from scratch, including homemade desserts every day.... Big meal on Sunday, then some sort of casserole from Sunday's leftovers later in the week. She didn't get mad very often-- her favorite swear word was "Fish!" If she was really angry, she would yell, "FISHES"....
She has always found great strength through her Catholic faith, and if I didn't mention this, I would be in deep trouble. The other person I should definitely mention is her husband, Lou, who was her partner in the greatest sense of the word. If I comment on how lucky I am to have her as a mother, or if anyone compliments anything about her or her children, she always states, "Oh, that's because of my husband. He was the greatest!" Their love was the greatest-- a real "team". Dad once mentioned that he was sorry that he didn't make it to more of our ball games and musicals. Funny, but I didn't really think that he wasn't there, because wherever one of my parents was, I always thought that they were both represented. They were a united front. OK, enough background. I will concentrate on her latest travails in the next postings...
Nana Pap was the mother that everyone wished they had. She was the queen of volunteering-- class Mom, President of the PTA, CCD Mom, and Head of the CCD program-- when it came to volunteering, she didn't know how to say "No"... something all of her children have also had trouble doing...haha. She made meals from scratch, including homemade desserts every day.... Big meal on Sunday, then some sort of casserole from Sunday's leftovers later in the week. She didn't get mad very often-- her favorite swear word was "Fish!" If she was really angry, she would yell, "FISHES"....
She has always found great strength through her Catholic faith, and if I didn't mention this, I would be in deep trouble. The other person I should definitely mention is her husband, Lou, who was her partner in the greatest sense of the word. If I comment on how lucky I am to have her as a mother, or if anyone compliments anything about her or her children, she always states, "Oh, that's because of my husband. He was the greatest!" Their love was the greatest-- a real "team". Dad once mentioned that he was sorry that he didn't make it to more of our ball games and musicals. Funny, but I didn't really think that he wasn't there, because wherever one of my parents was, I always thought that they were both represented. They were a united front. OK, enough background. I will concentrate on her latest travails in the next postings...
Raising Nana Pap
Thanksgiving, 2009, my mother, well known as "Nana Pap", moved to my hometown, five miles from my home. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, and Mom, my sibs and I knew that she needed more care than she could receive in an independent living situation. She gave us a list of what she wanted in her new home:
* Close to one of her children
* Two bedrooms, so everyone could visit
* Catholic Mass available
* Lots of fun activities
We all hunted, and I was lucky enough to find something that fit the bill. I am so happy that she is close; I am also a bit terrified-- she deserves the best. Can I give her that?
I often tell "Nana stories". They are often quite funny-- the Alzheimers mind is pretty weird. I told Mom that I often share her comments and exploits with friends and family, and the stories make people laugh. "Oh," she said, "Thank goodness! I have always liked making people laugh!" We have many conversations about why she has Alzheimers. We have decided that "God has a Plan". "I don't have to like it, but I know He has a reason. I will definitely have some questions for Him one day...", she says. I hope to use this site to describe some of her exploits, both funny and thought provoking.
* Close to one of her children
* Two bedrooms, so everyone could visit
* Catholic Mass available
* Lots of fun activities
We all hunted, and I was lucky enough to find something that fit the bill. I am so happy that she is close; I am also a bit terrified-- she deserves the best. Can I give her that?
I often tell "Nana stories". They are often quite funny-- the Alzheimers mind is pretty weird. I told Mom that I often share her comments and exploits with friends and family, and the stories make people laugh. "Oh," she said, "Thank goodness! I have always liked making people laugh!" We have many conversations about why she has Alzheimers. We have decided that "God has a Plan". "I don't have to like it, but I know He has a reason. I will definitely have some questions for Him one day...", she says. I hope to use this site to describe some of her exploits, both funny and thought provoking.
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