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 3^rd 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 2^nd 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.  :)

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.

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...

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.