No bowls of milk. No waiting for a ride. No pacing. No fussing.
She is happy today....and THAT makes me happy.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
The Bowl of Milk
It happened again today. I went downstairs to the dining room and found Mom's place setting all arranged on the table: placemat, knife, fork, spoon, napkin, glass, bread plate, soupbowl. Nothing really odd about that, except that she was nowhere to be seen, and the soupbowl was totally FULL of milk. Milk. Right to the brim.
This happened twice last week, but the bowl was a small, dessert-type bowl. Both times, I just dumped the bowl and went about my day. Today, I thought I might approach the mystery.
Since I was busy fixing lunch for the two of us, I left the bowl in place. When she came down, I pointed it out and asked if she knew anything about it. She didn't. So I tried a different approach and asked if she had been wanting a bowl of cereal at midmorning. She didn't.
I suppose the muffin elf, who is still very busy here in the house, is thirsty but doesn't use a glass.
I think I am missing the message. Where is Hercule Poirot when you need him?
This happened twice last week, but the bowl was a small, dessert-type bowl. Both times, I just dumped the bowl and went about my day. Today, I thought I might approach the mystery.
Since I was busy fixing lunch for the two of us, I left the bowl in place. When she came down, I pointed it out and asked if she knew anything about it. She didn't. So I tried a different approach and asked if she had been wanting a bowl of cereal at midmorning. She didn't.
I suppose the muffin elf, who is still very busy here in the house, is thirsty but doesn't use a glass.
I think I am missing the message. Where is Hercule Poirot when you need him?
Friday, April 13, 2012
A Bath????????????? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What is it about little kids and little old ladies with AD? Is it *really* so awful to get clean?
Thursday, April 12, 2012
The Muffin Elf
Okay, I am catching up today, so two posts.
A confession: My mother is a Muffin Elf. She loves muffins. Cranberry-orange ones. She eats them...lots of them. Every day. About 4 of them, actually. In secret, most of the time, although we know she is doing it (we buy the muffins, after all). They just disappear from the box and she has no idea where they have gone. Ever. Sometimes, she shares with the wonderful woman who does respite care for us. Mostly, not.
Her other favorite food: Nutri-Grain bars. Several per day. A whole box, if she could.
Mind you, she is VERY thin. You would think that she would gain a lot, but she never does.
She still eats her dinner. For a while, she just pushed it around on her plate, but lately she is actually cleaning her plate.
We've noticed that she is is pretty indifferent to most foods, but loves things that are sweet. So, add a tiny touch of honey to her carrots and she eats them up; a dab of apricot jam on her ham sandwich and she will finish it, instead of eating two bites. Although the constant sweetening doesn't appeal to my husband or to me, she finds it irresistible and it helps her to get a better variety of foods down. She still hates vegetables, can't stand fruit (unless it is in jam) and is, at best, indifferent to most everything else. She only picks at meats, pasta is ignored. "I'm not hungry," she'll say, immediately followed with "Is there anything for dessert?"
Her doctor says it is probable that she can only taste sweet foods. And, if she eats at least something nutritious every day, that the muffins and bars are okay.
She admits only to eating a single muffin every day. But the muffins disappear. The bars disappear.
There must be an Elf.
A confession: My mother is a Muffin Elf. She loves muffins. Cranberry-orange ones. She eats them...lots of them. Every day. About 4 of them, actually. In secret, most of the time, although we know she is doing it (we buy the muffins, after all). They just disappear from the box and she has no idea where they have gone. Ever. Sometimes, she shares with the wonderful woman who does respite care for us. Mostly, not.
Her other favorite food: Nutri-Grain bars. Several per day. A whole box, if she could.
Mind you, she is VERY thin. You would think that she would gain a lot, but she never does.
She still eats her dinner. For a while, she just pushed it around on her plate, but lately she is actually cleaning her plate.
We've noticed that she is is pretty indifferent to most foods, but loves things that are sweet. So, add a tiny touch of honey to her carrots and she eats them up; a dab of apricot jam on her ham sandwich and she will finish it, instead of eating two bites. Although the constant sweetening doesn't appeal to my husband or to me, she finds it irresistible and it helps her to get a better variety of foods down. She still hates vegetables, can't stand fruit (unless it is in jam) and is, at best, indifferent to most everything else. She only picks at meats, pasta is ignored. "I'm not hungry," she'll say, immediately followed with "Is there anything for dessert?"
Her doctor says it is probable that she can only taste sweet foods. And, if she eats at least something nutritious every day, that the muffins and bars are okay.
She admits only to eating a single muffin every day. But the muffins disappear. The bars disappear.
There must be an Elf.
The "Ride" is undependable...
For the last several months, Mom has kept her suitcase and a small overnight bag packed and ready to go. She keeps a close watch on the driveway and door, expecting her ride to appear at any minute. The ride/driver is apparently a "cousin" of her mother's (which means he would be at least 110 years old). I don't know if he was a real person or not. I had never heard of him before she developed AD.
Of course, he never comes. In my effort to "go along" with all her notions, I've been just watching and seeing what she does. A week or so ago, she was again waiting and pacing back and forth in her impatience for him to arrive. After a few checks at the door (which we have now alarmed) I went to see what was up.
When I asked what was going on, she said she was waiting for her ride.
I "ummmm-ed" a bit, then I finally said that I didn't really expect him.
She bristled. "Why not? she demanded.
"Well...I've been thinking about this," I replied. "It seems that he's not very dependable about coming. One day, he told you 10 times; another even more, then Monday, it was a half-dozen, yesterday 9, and now this is the 14th time today. If he really meant to come, wouldn't he be here by now? He must be having a tough time getting here, at his age."
She actually thought about this for a while. Then, I almost fell over when she agreed.
She picked up her suitcase and went back to her room. The suitcase and overnight bag are still packed, in her room. But, she is not hanging out at the door at all hours of the day and night.
Going along may actually work.
Of course, he never comes. In my effort to "go along" with all her notions, I've been just watching and seeing what she does. A week or so ago, she was again waiting and pacing back and forth in her impatience for him to arrive. After a few checks at the door (which we have now alarmed) I went to see what was up.
When I asked what was going on, she said she was waiting for her ride.
I "ummmm-ed" a bit, then I finally said that I didn't really expect him.
She bristled. "Why not? she demanded.
"Well...I've been thinking about this," I replied. "It seems that he's not very dependable about coming. One day, he told you 10 times; another even more, then Monday, it was a half-dozen, yesterday 9, and now this is the 14th time today. If he really meant to come, wouldn't he be here by now? He must be having a tough time getting here, at his age."
She actually thought about this for a while. Then, I almost fell over when she agreed.
She picked up her suitcase and went back to her room. The suitcase and overnight bag are still packed, in her room. But, she is not hanging out at the door at all hours of the day and night.
Going along may actually work.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Night Watch
The portal strikes again.
Last night, after mom had gone to bed, my husband discovered a packed overnight bag in the entry hallway. Mom's. We figured she was planning her "escape" and put the suitcase out in the garage, to slow her escape if nothing else.
An hour or so later, her bedroom light began to go off and on.
(The design of our house is of a central conservatory, with sliding glass doors from the upstairs bedrooms leading to balconies within the conservatory. Since the ceiling is cathedral, the area above the glass doors is also glass, and though curtains cover the doors themselves, the glass above is not covered. Thus, lights in her room shine out through the conservatory, and into the area above our balcony doors, and we can see them easily.)
When the lights finally settled down, I heard stealthy creeping along the hallway.
(We leave our bedroom door slightly open, for the cat to come and go, and to keep an ear out for her wanderings.)
I got up and through the crack in the doorway, saw her standing at the top of the stairs, looking out the window above the front door. She was dressed and --for once -- wearing a coat.
Then:
Me: Do you need something, Mom?
Mom: No.
Me: Why are you standing here?
Mom: Waiting for my ride.
Me: Ride? In the middle of the night?
Mom: Friends are coming to pick me up. They just called and are on their way.
Me: Who are these friends?
Mom: People I know.
Me: Do I know them?
Mom: Yes, they have come here twice before. We had a picnic.
(Not true. One, she has never had visitors from Florida here, and two, I confess that I am NOT a picnic sort of person. I can't sit on the ground, have terrible allergies, am very pale and sun sensitive, and much prefer a screened porch. Picnic? Not in this lifetime.)
Me: Oh, what are their names?
Mom: Um................
Me: Where do they live?
Mom: Pensacola.
Me: Are they coming from Pensacola to pick you up, then?
Mom: Yes. They said they would be here in a few minutes. They just called.
Me: You do realize that Pensacola is a three-day drive from here, don't you? Do your friends know you are living in MA?
Mom: Yes, they were here before. I am going to spend the night with them.
Me: Well, we are having an ice storm. They may not know that. Perhaps we should call them back and tell them to pick a day with better weather.
Mom: Okay.
(At this point, I go and get her cell phone. No calls have been received since the 15th. When I point this out, she says it was on the "other" phone in her room. So, I go look, and yes, she does have a land line in her room. It has NO WIRES at all. The handset is not connected to the phone, the phone is not connected to the wall, except for electricity and thus a clock display. No calls.)
Me: Maybe you were dreaming?
Mom: NO! I WAS NOT DREAMING!
Me: Tell me more about these people.
Mom: Um................ (long pause)...........they were friends of Daddy's.
Me: Your father or mine?
Mom: Not MY father!
Me: My father, then. Hank. His age?
Mom: Um........... yes.
Me: If they were his friends, and the same age, they must be pretty old, then. Dad would be 90 now. It seems odd that folks that old would be planning such a long trip in the middle of the night.
Mom: No. they want me to visit, spend the night.
Me: You said you were going to spend the night with them. Does that mean you were going to Pensacola with them? Taking a trip? They are driving three days here to get you, then three days back to Pensacola for you to spend one night with them?
Mom: No.
Me: So, a longer visit, then? A week or so? Or to a hotel around here?
Mom: No.
Me. If I am understanding this correctly, you are planning to go off, in the middle of the night, without telling us, with people whose names you don't know, to some location you don't know, for some amount of time that is not clear, to spend the night with them?
Mom: I know them.
Me: Then what are their names. I am concerned for your safety.
Mom: Um........ (suddenly looking very sly) No.
Me: No what?
Mom: No names.
Me: Because you can't tell me?
Mom: No. (Now looking VERY sly)
Me: Or because you don't want to tell me?
Mom. Maybe.
Me: Now, if it takes them three days to get here, do you plan to sit here at the top of the stairs for all that time?
Mom: Yes.
Me. Well, since I can't let you go off with someone I can't remember, I guess I will just have to sit here with you.
(Now, I must tell you, I have read a lot of the advice about dealing with Alzheimer's patients and they all basically say to go along with everything they dream up. Go with the flow. I even made myself a wall hanging to remind myself of that mantra. But...I have a really tough time with it, and by this time (an hour or more into this scene, in the middle of the night) I am really losing my patience, my temper is flaring. I *want* to tell her that this is all a hallucination, part of a disease, all made up in her mind. I'm exasperated and completely out of patience. Deep breaths. Count to a thousand. We are keeping my husband awake and he has to get up and go to work in just a couple of hours. Not good.)
(Some time passes, I regain some composure.)
Me: Well, it seems that they are delayed in getting here. How long shall we wait before we give up and go to bed?
Mom: Half an hour.
Me. Okay, let me get my cell phone so we can keep track of the time.
Mom: Um.........
Me: Let's start the half hour now.
Mom: Okay.
(The half hour passes. I have given updates every ten minutes.)
Me: Well, then, the half hour is gone and they are not here. Perhaps they have given up. What shall we do next?
Mom: I guess, just go to bed.
(She gets up from the bench, teeters off to her room, and firmly shuts the door. Not *quite* a slam. Close. I go back to bed. She continues to put the lights off and on for about an hour. I stay sleepless for a much longer time. Morning comes. The suitcase, never mentioned, is still in the garage. After a while, I will empty it and quietly return her clothes to her with her clean laundry. We won't ever bring it up with her.)
Another day, another night, another adventure. Dear spirits, I'm tired.
Last night, after mom had gone to bed, my husband discovered a packed overnight bag in the entry hallway. Mom's. We figured she was planning her "escape" and put the suitcase out in the garage, to slow her escape if nothing else.
An hour or so later, her bedroom light began to go off and on.
(The design of our house is of a central conservatory, with sliding glass doors from the upstairs bedrooms leading to balconies within the conservatory. Since the ceiling is cathedral, the area above the glass doors is also glass, and though curtains cover the doors themselves, the glass above is not covered. Thus, lights in her room shine out through the conservatory, and into the area above our balcony doors, and we can see them easily.)
When the lights finally settled down, I heard stealthy creeping along the hallway.
(We leave our bedroom door slightly open, for the cat to come and go, and to keep an ear out for her wanderings.)
I got up and through the crack in the doorway, saw her standing at the top of the stairs, looking out the window above the front door. She was dressed and --for once -- wearing a coat.
Then:
Me: Do you need something, Mom?
Mom: No.
Me: Why are you standing here?
Mom: Waiting for my ride.
Me: Ride? In the middle of the night?
Mom: Friends are coming to pick me up. They just called and are on their way.
Me: Who are these friends?
Mom: People I know.
Me: Do I know them?
Mom: Yes, they have come here twice before. We had a picnic.
(Not true. One, she has never had visitors from Florida here, and two, I confess that I am NOT a picnic sort of person. I can't sit on the ground, have terrible allergies, am very pale and sun sensitive, and much prefer a screened porch. Picnic? Not in this lifetime.)
Me: Oh, what are their names?
Mom: Um................
Me: Where do they live?
Mom: Pensacola.
Me: Are they coming from Pensacola to pick you up, then?
Mom: Yes. They said they would be here in a few minutes. They just called.
Me: You do realize that Pensacola is a three-day drive from here, don't you? Do your friends know you are living in MA?
Mom: Yes, they were here before. I am going to spend the night with them.
Me: Well, we are having an ice storm. They may not know that. Perhaps we should call them back and tell them to pick a day with better weather.
Mom: Okay.
(At this point, I go and get her cell phone. No calls have been received since the 15th. When I point this out, she says it was on the "other" phone in her room. So, I go look, and yes, she does have a land line in her room. It has NO WIRES at all. The handset is not connected to the phone, the phone is not connected to the wall, except for electricity and thus a clock display. No calls.)
Me: Maybe you were dreaming?
Mom: NO! I WAS NOT DREAMING!
Me: Tell me more about these people.
Mom: Um................ (long pause)...........they were friends of Daddy's.
Me: Your father or mine?
Mom: Not MY father!
Me: My father, then. Hank. His age?
Mom: Um........... yes.
Me: If they were his friends, and the same age, they must be pretty old, then. Dad would be 90 now. It seems odd that folks that old would be planning such a long trip in the middle of the night.
Mom: No. they want me to visit, spend the night.
Me: You said you were going to spend the night with them. Does that mean you were going to Pensacola with them? Taking a trip? They are driving three days here to get you, then three days back to Pensacola for you to spend one night with them?
Mom: No.
Me: So, a longer visit, then? A week or so? Or to a hotel around here?
Mom: No.
Me. If I am understanding this correctly, you are planning to go off, in the middle of the night, without telling us, with people whose names you don't know, to some location you don't know, for some amount of time that is not clear, to spend the night with them?
Mom: I know them.
Me: Then what are their names. I am concerned for your safety.
Mom: Um........ (suddenly looking very sly) No.
Me: No what?
Mom: No names.
Me: Because you can't tell me?
Mom: No. (Now looking VERY sly)
Me: Or because you don't want to tell me?
Mom. Maybe.
Me: Now, if it takes them three days to get here, do you plan to sit here at the top of the stairs for all that time?
Mom: Yes.
Me. Well, since I can't let you go off with someone I can't remember, I guess I will just have to sit here with you.
(Now, I must tell you, I have read a lot of the advice about dealing with Alzheimer's patients and they all basically say to go along with everything they dream up. Go with the flow. I even made myself a wall hanging to remind myself of that mantra. But...I have a really tough time with it, and by this time (an hour or more into this scene, in the middle of the night) I am really losing my patience, my temper is flaring. I *want* to tell her that this is all a hallucination, part of a disease, all made up in her mind. I'm exasperated and completely out of patience. Deep breaths. Count to a thousand. We are keeping my husband awake and he has to get up and go to work in just a couple of hours. Not good.)
(Some time passes, I regain some composure.)
Me: Well, it seems that they are delayed in getting here. How long shall we wait before we give up and go to bed?
Mom: Half an hour.
Me. Okay, let me get my cell phone so we can keep track of the time.
Mom: Um.........
Me: Let's start the half hour now.
Mom: Okay.
(The half hour passes. I have given updates every ten minutes.)
Me: Well, then, the half hour is gone and they are not here. Perhaps they have given up. What shall we do next?
Mom: I guess, just go to bed.
(She gets up from the bench, teeters off to her room, and firmly shuts the door. Not *quite* a slam. Close. I go back to bed. She continues to put the lights off and on for about an hour. I stay sleepless for a much longer time. Morning comes. The suitcase, never mentioned, is still in the garage. After a while, I will empty it and quietly return her clothes to her with her clean laundry. We won't ever bring it up with her.)
Another day, another night, another adventure. Dear spirits, I'm tired.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
The boys in the Truck
First thing this morning, Mom appeared at my bedroom door with a request that I take her somewhere. Where? She did not know. But she HAD to go. Someone had passed away, a lady, and she had to go to comfort her boys. What is the lady's name? Doesn't know, can't remember. What are the boy's names? Doesn't know, can't remember. Last week, it was one of the boys who passed away and she needed to go see the lady. Apparently, reports of his death were incorrect.
How did she find out? Her TV (the portal). She says that since I can't take her to somewhere she can't help me find, she will contact the boys (through the portal, naturally) and have them pick her up. They have a big truck. I said okay, but when they came I wanted to meet with them to find out where she would be, and maybe I could give them a sympathy card for the loss of their mom.
It will never happen, of course. But I am slowly learning to "go along" with her hallucinations. Last week, I argued, and it did not go well. Everything I read about AD says "don't argue about anything" unless it is dangerous for her or others, so I am biting my tongue (IFI still have one?!!!!) and going along.
I suspect the entire thing is because I have a good friend whose husband passed away on New Year's day. When I told my DH, she was in the room and said that she felt very sad. That probably sparked the first hallucination -- of the boy's passing. Yesterday, we went to the funeral, and now it is all once again fresh in her mind.
When she left my room, I pointed out that she had not yet had her breakfast and that she certainly couldn't go off with an empty stomach. So she is eating now, and will probably forget the whole thing soon. I hope so.
Now, to just hope that a truckload of 50-year-old boys don't appear in my driveway...........
How did she find out? Her TV (the portal). She says that since I can't take her to somewhere she can't help me find, she will contact the boys (through the portal, naturally) and have them pick her up. They have a big truck. I said okay, but when they came I wanted to meet with them to find out where she would be, and maybe I could give them a sympathy card for the loss of their mom.
It will never happen, of course. But I am slowly learning to "go along" with her hallucinations. Last week, I argued, and it did not go well. Everything I read about AD says "don't argue about anything" unless it is dangerous for her or others, so I am biting my tongue (IFI still have one?!!!!) and going along.
I suspect the entire thing is because I have a good friend whose husband passed away on New Year's day. When I told my DH, she was in the room and said that she felt very sad. That probably sparked the first hallucination -- of the boy's passing. Yesterday, we went to the funeral, and now it is all once again fresh in her mind.
When she left my room, I pointed out that she had not yet had her breakfast and that she certainly couldn't go off with an empty stomach. So she is eating now, and will probably forget the whole thing soon. I hope so.
Now, to just hope that a truckload of 50-year-old boys don't appear in my driveway...........
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