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.
Monday, April 18, 2011
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.
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