I went to Atria for the first dose of medicine around 10:30, but it was after 11:30 before my mother woke up. I had brought my Kindle and sat there reading "Still Alice," kind of a surreal experience, as it is about a woman with Alzheimers. I saw the movie a long time ago with my friend Lisa and I enjoyed it (if you can "enjoy" a movie like that) but the book was so much better. The movie shows Alice as she begins to deteriorate from this awful disease, but the book gets inside her head and you not only see what happens to her, you experience it from inside her head. Reading things like this always helps me understand what is going on inside my mother's head.
She woke up in a silly mood and we laughed a lot. Her wound is looking much better and today will be her last day of the antibiotics. She still doesn't remember that it's there and doesn't remember why she doesn't have her glasses, but I think I will bring them back to her today, as well as her lipstick. If she decides to rub lipstick on the wound now it won't make a difference, except cosmetically. Tomorrow she has her last follow-up with the nurse.
At noon, she remembered it was time for lunch (she had only been awake half an hour, so had no breakfast) and I walked her down to the dining room and left her at a table with some people she knew, so I was sure that she would actually have lunch.
She was sleeping when I got back to Atria and I read for a bit longer, though she woke up about 10 minutes after I got there. In the afternoon she was groggy and then got into "all this crap" mode waving her hands at the cabinet on which she has all of the family photos and saying repeatedly "how did I get all this crap?" with a disgusted look on her face. I reminded her each time that those were photos of people she loved and she would remember that she regularly sits in her chair an talks to them and then a few minutes later she would wave her hand at them and ask about what she should do with all this crap again.
When it was 6 p.m., I walked her back to the dining room. On the way out, she saw the food I had bought for her on the stove and said "look at all that crap. I should just throw it all away."
I know one thing for certain. When I get to the state where my mother is now, and I am convinced I will get there eventually, I definitely won't be worried about "all the crap" in my living area, since "all the crap" has been my life.