Needless to say, I was nervous going to Atria today.
But I girded my loins and headed off for lunch. Sadly, there was no
parking anywhere within 3 blocks, so I decided I didn't have
to have lunch; I would go later.
At 1;30, I tried again and managed to find a spot in the
parking lot. I had butterflies in my stomach, surprisingly, walking
down the hall, after her explosion yesterday. I was pretty sure she'd be OK<
but you never know with this damn disease. I saw her newspaper had been
taken in, so figured she was up. I let myself in. She was out of
bed and dressed, but down again, napping on the couch. The big
surprise was seeing a walker in her apartment. In the past she has resisted
even having it inside. I decided not to mention it.
Rather than waking her up, I had planned ahead and had
brought my book and just settled in to read until she woke up.
I guess I read for about 15 minutes when two aids knocked on
the door. Their shift was ending and they wanted to know if she wanted
to go to lunch (I thought it odd they hadn't asked her before, but whatever)
They got her up and sitting in the walker before she
actually saw me. Her face lit up and she said she was thrilled to see
me. "I haven't seen you in such a long time," she exclaimed, a big
smile on her face.
The four of us started for the dining room. and
unhesitatingly, she pushed the walker without a comment. The aids left
us in the dining room and I was helping her with the menu. She was
still glowing at "finally" seeing me. When she asked "how's Mom?" I
realized she didn't have a clue who I was. I asked her if she knew who
I was and then she looked confused. I finally told her who I was.
Then she kind of remembered. I asked if she knew who she was
and she said "Of course I do." I asked what her name was and she
didn't know. When I told her it was Mildred she made a face and said
that was a silly name. About that time, I remembered I had a little
digital tape recorder with me and I started it and put it on the table.
I've been meaning to tape a conversation for some time now. This was
the PERFECT day to do this. She never noticed it was there.
When I turned away to look at the menu for her and then
turned back, she had passed out again, her head resting on the table.
The server asked if I wanted him to call an aid and I told him no. I
got her awake again and, as usual, she awoke with a start and had to orient
herself as to where she was.
The strange thing was that she wasn't upset or anxious, but
it was as if most of her brain had been wiped almost clean. She didn't
remember anything. About anything. It didn't bother her, like it
usually does, but she asked a lot of questions and I kept filling her in on
parts of her life. Every so often she would marvel that the brain is
so strange that it won't let you remember things.
She never remembers that she has great grandchildren, but
today she didn't even remember grandchildren (and she always remembers
them). The names Tom, Ned and Jeri were familiar to her, but she
couldn't picture them. I found pictures in my cell phone, but that didn't
help.
All things considered, though, it was one of the most
pleasant lunches I've had with her in a long time.
At one point I missed Peach and Kathy so much. We were
talking about her siblings and she asked me if she had any. I told her
she had six sisters and three brothers. Then I started to name them.
Now, Marie is her second oldest sister and was married and out of the house
long before my mother was born. They never had much of a relationship
and my mother told me on several occasions over the years that she really
was always afraid of Marie. Even as a young woman, Marie was pretty large
and I can imagine that she was scary to little kids, especially since she
was an alcoholic and who knows what she was like when she came home drunk.
I started at the low end of the siblings and mentioned Marge
and Barb, the two sisters she was closest to throughout her life, and Paul
and Betsy...saying the names slowly to let her think about each one.
Then I mentioned Jim and Scotty and then Marie and Mel. When I got to
Marie's name, she waved and said "oh you can leave Marie out of the list."
She can't remember her own name but remembered that she never liked Marie!
I so much wanted to share that with Peach and Kathy who, along with my
mother, would be the only ones who would have realized how funny that really
was.
She had a bowl of soup and some ice cream and I got a really
good recording of our conversation, which I stopped when we left the dining
room. When she got up, I told her to get her walker, which she did
without complaint and pushed it all the way back to her apartment (I had to
show her where her apartment was). I think this "wiping the brain
clean" erased her memory of how much she hated walkers and when the aids got
her into hers, she just accepted it as the way things are now. It will
be interesting to see how things are tomorrow.
We sat and talked for awhile. I mentioned something
about my father and she said "I was married to him, wasn't I?" When I
told her that yes, she was she said "I really miss him." Then I told
her that no, she probably didn't miss him but missed her second
husband, Fred. She was a bit vague on Fred and couldn't picture him in
her mind (which made me sad, because she loved him so much).
She asked me several times if she had done anything in her
life and I enumerated things that she had done (she had no memory of my
sister, except, when hearing that she died many years ago, she said "that
must make you sad.")
I told her about her career with the Bank of America, which
she can't remember, and the years that she volunteered at Hospice of Marin
and how much she was loved by people. That seemed to make her happy.
Though she can't remember any of those things, she was glad to hear that she
had accomplished things in her life and that people liked her.
We sat and talked for half an hour more and I had this
notion, from watching her body language and listening to what she was
saying, that some of her old self was coming back again, so I felt
comfortable leaving her, but I promised that I would be back the next day.
As I was leaving, I realized that she had not ONCE mentioned
any pain!!! What's more, she wasn't moving as if she was in pain
either. Maybe the new medication is finally working.
Ned called and said he was going to visit her tomorrow and
was bringing a little watermelon he thought we could share, so I will meet
him there and we will have watermelon together...and I'll see what she's
like then. Every day is a new adventure, and who knows what her brain
is going to be doing tomorrow.
But I sure had a good day with her today, and best of all,
if she screams at me and throws me out again, I can come home and play our
conversation on tape and remember when we had a good visit together.
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