Trip to Kaisr

Atria wanted her to see her doctor because she is having more angry periods late in the afternoon and they were concerned that she might have a urinary tract infection.  I decided to make her a late morning appointment and then we would go to lunch (because they are also concerned that she is losing weight...she has lost 10 lbs since March).

Unlike our last trip to Kaiser, she was in relatively good spirits and kept up what was not exactly a lively conversation, but what passes for a conversation with her these days.  The only thing was that it was about 90% based on fantasy.  At the restaurant, for example, she wanted to know if her brother was going to be there and how she had not seen him in a long time.

She asked several times why she needed to see the doctor and each time I explained to her that they were concerned about some of the things she does when she's angry (she stole a walker and refused to give it back).  She insists she had never done those things because she doesn't remember them.

Sitting in the waiting room, while I was checking her in, she started talking to the man across the aisle from her, thinking he was her sister's husband and when I said something she asked if I was Barb.

The appointment went as expected -- other than listening to her heart, the doctor never touched her, my mother said everything's fine and we were told to let her know how the change in medication goes (fortunately, no labs were required this time).  At least the doctor agrees with me--Atria is worried because she is sleeping so much.  But she's 98 for Pete's sake!  It is of no concern to the doctor at all.

I took her to IHOP for lunch, because I knew she would eat something laden with calories (not, of course, because I wanted something rich and gooey).  We had the new Hawaiian rolls French toast, which I've been seeing advertised and which looked so good.  It also turned out to be the cheapest thing on the menu, if you didn't add any eggs or anything else with them.

It was one of those cases where things look a lot better than they taste.  I love Hawaiian rolls and thought how much better would they be slobbered with strawberries and topped with a big dollop of whipped cream. 

But they were a disappointment.  Regular ol' pancakes would have been better, IMO.  She did, however, eat the whole thing and so at least got a nice dose of fattening calories, which is good for her weight loss.

When they cleared away the plates, she put both her hands on the table and noticed that she was not wearing a ring--she usually wore two, but they have been gone for many months (I suspect Marge took them, but Marge is long gone now).  Then she picked up a spoon and said that at least she found one and told me to put it in my purse and take it to the car.  She wasn't convinced when I tried to explain that (a) it was not a ring and (b) if I took it, that would be stealing.

When the bill came, she insisted on paying, so I charged it to her credit card, though when I asked her if she wanted to sign the bill or if she wanted me to sign it she said "I don't know.  I wasn't even there."  So I signed it.

One of the things that dementia has done to her brain is that she is no longer able to follow something like "look at that pink car."  There was a pink car that was coming up to us as we stopped at stop sign and I pointed it out to her (there are so few things that I can say to her that I think she will understand).  I said "look at that pink car there" and pointed to the right.  She looked straight ahead and said "yeah."  I pointed out to her again that the car was on our right and was pulling ahead of us  She kept looking straight and never did see it.

On the ride down I tried to point out to her the famous "bird car" which I saw coming up on the right about a block ahead.

But she just can't process those directions fast enough and missed it.  On the way back, I drove down that street again, PARKED to take a photo and then, given sufficient time, she did finally see it, though was uninterested, so it was hardly worth it--except for me, getting the photo.

I dropped her back at Atria and she never looked back. I think before I got the car door closed, she had forgotten I was ever there. 

I have 2 days off now, since I don't go every day any more and Wednesday is her Alzheimers Buddy's day with her.  I'll be back on Thursday, when I have an appointment with the director of the memory unit to go over her "plan of treatment."  Whatever that means!

Honoring Mom

Ned was going to arrange things for a Mothers Day brunch with my mother, which is always difficult to do because of not knowing exactly when they are going to feed them lunch...and you can't call ahead to arrange things because if she actually answers the phone, by the time she hangs the phone up, she will have forgotten what you were calling about.

We got to Atria as she was finishing her lunch and we sat with her while she polished off a big strawberry dipped in some sort of pink frosting.

While we were sitting in the dining room, Tom called and he talked with me and with his grandmother, but his kids were busy with their other grandmother so I didn't get to talk with them.

Ned, who is one of the very good guys, had brought all the brunch food, so we took her out of the memory unit and down to a patio in the regular part of Atria, which she claimed never to have seen before.

There are some perks of dementia.  For one thing, you don't remember what your stomach has done and so though she had finished her lunch, she ate another one, which is fine because she hasn't been eating lately. . .

...and you get lots of points for giving her a card, which was brand new every time she picked it up to read it.

 It's also possible for someone with dementia to eat "just one" stuffed egg four different times!

We came home after brunch.  Ned had to get to work to help his friend Jon at the university's Whole Earth Festival and it was time for my after-brunch nap.  Sadly, while sleeping I missed a call from Jeri.

Walt offered to take me out to dinner, but Mothers Day is such a hard time to find a restaurant without a reservation, so I just planned to cook dinner here at home.

It was a quiet Mothers day but I felt loved and maybe my mother remembers that she is loved too.  If not maybe she'll find her card and read it again, for the first time.

Cloud of Pain

I don't remember the last time I had any sort of major pain.  I have been fortunate in that regard.  It probably was 2003, when I had my bike accident and dislocated my shoulder. But the thing I remember about that time is that when you are in that much pain, it's like you are living inside a cloud of pain, oblivious to everything around you. 

Looking at my mother today, that's all I could think of.  She was in this big cloud of pain and nothing outside the cloud registered with her.

Of course she was not wearing her splint.  They've taken to calling her "Houdini" for how quickly she can get out of it.

The wrist was much more swollen and discolored and every little thing that touched it, or came near it, caused her to cry out in pain.  I think if she could have taken a pill to end her life then and there she would have.

And of course she doesn't know why it hurts.  And she can't understand that the splint is to protect it so that she can't accidentally brush it against anything (she told me she didn't know anything about a splint and guessed she didn't have one).

I told one of the aids today that I have noticed a significant decline in her cognitive functioning recently and she agreed and said "sometimes it comes on suddenly."  At 98, that's not surprising.  I suspect that even after the wrist has healed, she will have taken another step down from which she probably won't recover.

Today was her appointment with the orthopedist and we had to check in an hour early so she could get an x-ray.  Of course I couldn't stay in the room with all the rays flying around, so I don't know how much the manipulation of her wrist to get four shots hurt her, but I suspect a lot.

Then back to ortho to wait for her to be called.  Her official appointment time was not until 2:50, so we had about 45 minutes to wait and after about 40 minutes, she had to go to the bathroom.  This was my first time with bathroom duty for her and getting the wheelchair into the ladies room was almost impossible and with her unable to understand such commands as "hold the bar while I move the wheelchair" made it even more difficult.  I finally got her to understand she should hold onto the metal bar while I moved the wheelchair out of the way, but then she couldn't understand that she had to lower her body to the toilet.  Trying to manipulate her I couldn't help at brush her wrist several times and each time she let out a mournful groan.

I suspect this is something I will get better at doing.

They finally called her back to a room and the certified physician's assistant came in. I have to admit I'd never met a medical person named "Sundance" before!  She was very sweet and very patient and said that it was a bad break, that they had aligned it well in the ER and that it had shifted a bit, with all the splint on/splint off-ing. 

Said that she couldn't put a cast on her herself, so she called the wonderful Arthur, who got her all decked out in a bright green cast.

She was already picking at it before he'd left the room, but he assures me that it is solid and she won't be able to remove it.

I'm not convinced and I'll be curious to see what I find when I check on her tomorrow.

We dropped her back at Atria and I decided to let the aid take her to her room.  She was totally lost and confused and didn't know why I was there and I told her I'd see her tomorrow. 

I came home to take my now-normal post-Atria nap.  Unless she tears the cast off between now and next week, she won't have to return to Ortho until next Friday.

I was back at Atria today and found her in the community room, no splint on. I got her back into her apartment and, with great pain, put her splint back on. The swelling in her wrist is worse, and it's more painful to try to slip the splint over her arm. I tried to impress upon her that it would not hurt if she would not keep taking the damn splint off! She said she understood and then, as I sat down, she started to remove it again. I know she can't remember and I just don't know what to do to help her.

I was back at Atria today and found her in the community room, no splint on.  I got her back into her apartment and, with great pain, put her splint back on.  The swelling in her wrist is worse, and it's more painful to try to slip the splint over her arm.  I tried to impress upon her that it would not hurt if she would not keep taking the damn splint off!  She said she understood and then, as I sat down, she started to remove it again.  I know she can't remember and I just don't know what to do to help her.

I don't know if the orthopedist is going to put her in a plaster cast (and don't know if she can remove that or not) but nobody can do anything until the swelling goes down...and it is more swollen and bruised now than it was 2 days ago.

I came home and, as usual, took a long post-Atria nap.  I seem to need that to come down after the frustration of visiting her these days.

This is how I ended yesterday's entry:

We finally got back to Atria and helped the aids get her settled in bed, though I will be interested to see how they found her this morning.

This is how I found her room.

And this is how I found her in the community room.

She was in pain and didn't understand why her arm hurt.  I've discovered that she not only has no short term memory, she also has selective hearing.  She doesn't want a broken wrist, so when you try to explain that her wrist is broken, she doesn't even hear you.

Since tomorrow is a holiday and it will be two days before Orthopedics will be open, I called the ER to find out what to do.  The Advice Nurse consulted with a doctor and said to bring her back to the ER.  And so instead of writing the article I was supposed to be writing, we were back at Atria and packing up a very reluctant mother to take her back to Kaiser.

We didn't have to wait TOO long in the cast room, but my mother was very irritated that people didn't come right away.  But we were there long enough for me to learn that my mother is really Adrian Monk (of the show Monk), who suffers from OCD.  It bothered her that the sheet on the gurney was untucked and she mentioned how much junk there was in the cast room.  (They think she may have fallen trying to pick something off the floor.  She is forever finding microscopic bits of something on the floor and leaning over the pick it up.  They keep warning her not to do that.  But of course she won't listen.)

The doctor and I talked about what we could do, since she can't have a plaster cast until the swelling goes down.  The doctor finally decided to try one of those splints that you have for carpal tunnel because even if she rips it off, it can easily be put back on again.

When we got that done, we drove back to Atria.  They had saved a plate of dinner for her and I sat with her for a bit (they brought her steak, a baked potato, and a roll, none of which she could eat with only one hand!).  I cut everything up for her and  then said I would be going home.  "Can't I go with you?" she asked.  When I told her that she lived at Atria, she was very frightened that I leave her alone in the place where she eats 3 meals a day because she didn't know anybody and didn't know what to do.  Walt and I ended up staying longer, but finally left and one of the aids promised to make sure she got back to her room all right.

Will she keep the splint on all night?  I don't have a clue.  But at least if/when she takes it off, it will be easy to put back on again.

Update:  They called me (and woke me up) at 6 a.m. to tell me she had removed the splint.  "Put it back on," I told them.

I was awakened by Walt poking me and holding out the telephone saying it was Kaiser calling.  It was about 11 p.m.

The doctor said that my mother had a fall and that she had broken -- I thought he said her rib, but it was actually her wrist.  The doctor said they would call when she was ready to go, but I knew she would be frightened, so we left right away and drove the 30 miles to the hospital.

My heart went out to her.  She was lying in the bed calling out, softly, "help me.  please help me."  She was happy to see me and the first thing she wanted me to do was to help her to sit up so she could help me.  But we wouldn't let her sit up because I thought she had a broken rib.  We had to fight to keep her down and explain to her over and over again where she was and why she was there.

The doctor finally came in with the supplies to put her in a cast while he sent Walt and me out to the waiting room, where we sat with barfing lady, a poor woman who had a barf bag and made horrible vomiting sounds every couple of minutes, as her bag slowly filled up.  It was lovely.  I was very happy when they finally took her into the back to examine her.

I was surprised to go back into the room and see my mother with a huge cast on her arm.  That's when I realized that she had broken her wrist.   

As I told Jeri this morning, my mother is a lovely woman who is very gracious and will do anything for anyone.  When she first saw me, she was scared in pain but the first thing she said was that she wanted to sit up so she could help me.  But when there is something wrong with her, she can be a real bitch.  She hates the look of the cast and the doctor said she had already torn it off once, so they had to strengthen it.  I had to keep her from trying to tear it off.  She still didn't know why she had to wear it or what had happened to her.

We finally got her into the car but first she complained of the cold, then of the discomfort of the car, and then the wait for Walt to pick up her meds at the pharmacy (many, many times), and all the while picking at the cast.  I got into the back sat with her to keep her from ripping at her cast.

We finally got back to Atria and helped the aids get her settled in bed, though I will be interested to see how they found her this morning.  It will probably take about six weeks for her to be in the cast.

I suspect it will be a long six weeks.

Sleeping Beauty

Another step down for my mother yesterday. I went to deliver Depends and bring her a box of chocolates. She was sleeping, so I just settled in and waited to see if she would wake up. When she did she was *totally* out of it, mumbling constantly but I couldn't understand anything she said. She went to the bathroom, then came back in, sat on the bed and mumbled some more, then climbed back into bed to go back to sleep. I somehow think she never really woke up at all.

When I could understand her mumbling, she was wondering where here sister Betsy was and where her mother was.  I think that she spends all of her waking time and dream time thinking of her family, whom she misses so much.

On the "good news" front, they found her glasses, which have been missing for a week.  They said they were "in her room," but nobody knows where.  I had searched the room pretty thoroughly, so I'm impressed that they found them.

Big Blob

As good and as "with it" as my mother was the last time I saw here was as vague and out of it as she was yesterday. She actually got angry with me because she thought I was just a "big blob" who was sitting on her daughter, hiding her and she wanted to see her daughter. When I told her *I* was her daughter, she said I was not, but she didn't know who I was. She finally got up and got into bed, so I left. Gawd, I hate dementia.

Klonopin

What a difference a little bit of Klonopin makes. She's more "normal" today than she has been in weeks.

Exciting Things

I took a piece of our big apple pie to my mother in the afternoon.  I was so pleased that I finally had something "exciting" to tell her about.  The first thing she asks me every time I come to visit is "so what have you been doing exciting that you haven't told me about?"

I told her about our trip, showed her the pictures from Apple Hill, tried to be entertaining (she kept asking me what country it was in) and told her I had brought her a piece of the apple pie we had bought.

When I finished and went back to the chair to sit down, she said "so what have you been doing exciting that you haven't told me about?"

Sigh.

She "found" the container with the pie in it several times while I was there and I'm 99% sure she will never eat it, but I feel good about including her in all the "excitement" anyway, even if she didn't have a clue what I was talking about.

I talked with one of the aids, with Jen, who runs the memory unit, and with her doctor and we have all decided it's time to put her on anti anxiety meds, so she will be starting low dose Prozac soon. 

Maybe she can finally forget that "something is wrong."

Something's Wrong

They called at 9 a.m. (I hadn't even finished my coffee) and said that my mother was very agitated and they needed me to calm her down.  So I took my coffee with me, skipped breakfast and went to Atria.  (I was pleased to find that her clothes were no longer on her bed or on the chair)

She was agitated and confused, but not really worse than she has been on a bad day before.  I think they were concerned because she wanted to call her mother--she always wants to call her mother.  (Isn't it time her family all return and take her home to live with them--she misses them so much!)

The spiel is the same "something's wrong and I can't figure out what it is." or "I know I'm supposed to be doing something but I don't know what it is."  I've heard this every time for the 4-1/2 years she's been at Atria. 

We were in the community room and she decided to go outside to see if she could figure it out there.  We walked the distance of the garden and then into the little sitting room, where she told me over and over and over and over that she didn't know what was wrong, that people were not doing what they were supposed to do but if she tried to do "it" they'd tell her to leave "it" alone.  When I asked what "it' was she couldn't remember.  All she knew was the people weren't doing their job and that they wouldn't let her help.

I distracted her by showing her pictures in my phone.  It always brings me to tears because I can show her 3 pictures of Lacie -- her great granddaughter -- in a row and at each picture she will ask who that "cute girl" is and when I say "It's your great granddaughter," she has no reaction except to say she's never met her.  I remember how excited she was when Brianna was born, 9 years ago, and now she has no connection with either her or her sister.

Finally she went out to the garden again and we walked down to the community room and I asked if she wanted to go in and watch TV again.  Only when we went in, they were doing cardio exercises, so I started doing them too (they are all done sitting down) and, seeing me participating, my mother did too, though never fully committing herself (instead of raising her arm all the way up, just half way up, etc.

After half an hour of exercise, the aide turned on Lawrence Welk (and I felt very old!).  My mother seemed to have settled down and I had work to do at home, so I left and told her I would see her tomorrow (which I probably won't).  I left without incident and there have been no further calls, so hold the good thought!

Laundry

I spent an hour and a half with her, having brought her a bag of Lindt chocolates (the red bag on the left).  Her laundry has been mounting on the guest chair and I suggested she move it to the bed (which was a command too complicated for her to understand, but she finally got it).

So the entire hour and a half she would turn to her right and ask what the red bag was or where the "garbage" (chocolate wrappers) had come from, so I would explain and then she'd look to her left and ask where all those clothes came from.  Her response to explanation was either that they didn't belong to her and she couldn't hang them up because the real owner would get angry with her or that "tomorrow" she was going to "take the day off" and deal with the clothes. 

At one point when I showed her a photo of herself WEARING one of the jackets she's never seen before she never even looked at the jacket because she was so upset at how SHE looked.  

I offered several time to hang the clothes up for her but she didn't want me to touch them because she had to sort through them and decide which ones she was going to throw away.

When I left Atria, I talked with one of the aides and suggested that they wait until she is at dinner and is not in her room and then hang the clothes up for her.  I suspect she has been telling them not to hang them up because she wants to do it herself.

When I left her room, I gathered up all the candy wrappers and put them in the now empty bag an she was upset that I hadn't asked her if she wanted to keep any of those stuff or not.

Halloween for Old Folks

This is the decoration outside the door to the Memory Care Unit at Atria:

I found macabre humor in the idea of skeletons hanging on this particular wing of Atria, where everyone is--let's be honest--waiting to die.

I did take exception to the scarecrow sitting in the chair across from this display.

She's sitting in the chair where I sit while waiting for someone to come and let me into the locked unit.  Harumph.

There are a few skeletons and pumpkins hanging along the halls, but I suspect nobody knows what day it is and has no concept of Halloween.  I know my mother didn't, when I went to see her yesterday.

I hadn't seen her in almost a week but fortunately she didn't realize that.  I told her about my fall and how my back hurt too much to walk the long walk down to the Memory Care unit (the back is fine now, by the way) and she was solicitous, which interrupted any feelings she might have had about my not being there in such a long time.

The visit was back to the usual discussion of age, how old she is, she can't be that old, etc. She asked me what I had been doing with "Mom" lately.  She misses her mother so much and occasionally thinks she sees her, though it's not in a hallucination sort of way, but more when she is asleep.  Of all the relatives who have gone before her, her mother is the one she most wants to see again.  She never mentions her father.

She talked about how many activities there were to do at Atria and smugly and proudly let me know that she never participated in ANY of them.  That always makes me sad, knowing how many opportunities she missed since she moved to Atria.  She wouldn't even go to the theater to see a movie, she was so uncomfortable, afraid she would do something wrong--and this was when she had it all together mentally!

I remember how involved she was in so many things when she lived alone.  Her calendar had an activity for every day of the week, it seemed.  Lunches, fashion shows, meetings, volunteer work.  But she lived in the mobile home park for a long time -- maybe 20 years? -- and never participated in any of the many activities there and refused to get to know her neighbors, so maybe this isn't so much a dementia/Alzheimers thing as it is a personality thing.  Still it seems a shame that she never took advantage of anything she was paying big bucks to have available to her!

A Good Day

Jeri called late this afternoon and at the conclusion of our conversation she said "you sound less stressed than usual."

I had not been to Atria in 4 days, so I decided to take my mother out to lunch. When I got to her apartment, she was dressed, but asleep on top of the covers of her bed.  I was in no hurry and we had no deadlines, so I just sat and read until she woke up.  She woke up more awake than anybody I've ever seen 10 seconds after they wake up!  When I suggested lunch, she said she was so tired and I asked if she preferred not to go, but she got into it and started to get excited about going out to lunch.  I gave her a choice of Chinese food or Denny's, and she chose Denny's.

On the way to Atria, I had passed one of my favorite trees, which has only half changed color so far, but I really thought it was cool looking.

So though Denny's was in the opposite direction, I drove around Davis so I could pass by this tree and she loved it.  I put on my 40s playlist and she sang every word to every song all the way to the restaurant.

At Denny's they are having new holiday meals, and so I decided to have cranberry-orange pancakes and she said she would too.  They came with eggs, hash browns and bacon.  My mother looked at the plate and I could see that she was overwhelmed by the amount of food.  I kept assuring her that she didn't have to eat it all.

By the end of the meal, she had eaten more than I had and was considering ordering a strawberry shake, but we decided not to get one.

On the way to Woodland, we had passed a place that is in the process of putting together their pumpkin patch.  Right now it's just a big empty field, but the pumpkin and the dinosaur attacking it were kind of interesting, so I got off the freeway and drove around so that we could see it closer and I could take a photo.

When we got back to Atria I took advantage of the front desk's offer to have someone come from the memory unit to take her back to her apartment so I didn't have to walk all the way to the back of the building.  I was very happy to turn her over to them, so I could get to the store to buy dinner fixings.

The whole day, including my afternoon nap, was just so pleasant that I'm not surprised I didn't sound stressed to Jeri.

Alice

I met Alice this week.

Alice is the UCD student who is partnered with my mother, to be her "buddy" and establish a relationship with her.  She will visit her every Wednesday, she tells me (a day of the week I don't have to feel guilty about staying home!)

She's a lovely girl, in her second year at the University.  I can't remember what she said is her major, but picked up on her brother, who is looking at UC Santa Barbara (where Jeri graduated) and Cal Poly (where Tom graduated).  I recommended both schools highly, Santa Barbara over Cal Poly because he thinks he might like to major in theater.

We tried to talk to include my mother who was lost, of course.  Turns out Alice is a theater fan and we both like the same shows, which really left my mother in the dust while we talked about shows and songs and her other brother who is doing theater in San Diego.

I guess Alice sat with us for about 45 minutes until time for her to leave.  I was so pleased to have her there because she got my mother talking animatedly, and when she left, the two of us had little to say to each other again.  

We were sitting at the end of the hall, the opposite end from where she lives and I made some comment about her apartment being at the other end of the hall.  I had to tell that to her about three times and she finally shook her head and said "Well, I'm going to have to think about that because I can't understand a word you're saying."

I think Alice will be good for her.

Here we go again

But at 10 this morning, I had a call from Atria letting me know my mother had been unresponsive when they tried to wake her up and they were sending her to the emergency room.  While the initial reaction is to wonder "is this the time?" in my heart of hearts I knew how it was going to happen, and I was not wrong

When I got to the ER, she was still unconscious and they were trying to wake her, to no avail.  Her eye lids were blinking very quickly, but her eyes never opened.  Everybody tried to wake her up, but unsuccessfully.

They cut her out of her shirt because she wasn't able to help them get her undressed.  They put on diapers, but first took a urine sample so they could test for a UTI.  She slept through it all.

The nurses left and I saw her eyes flicker, like they had been, but also to open a tiny bit, so I got up and talked to her and she started to come alive.  I asked if she knew who I was and she slowly nodded.

About then Ebonee came in to take blood.  She had about the very best dreadlocks that I've seen.  I'm sorry I didn't take a picture from the front because it was truly beautiful.

She had lots of blood to collect and fortunately she had a great sense of humor, so she got my mother chatting and laughing.  She was now coming back to whatever her normal is, which was a relief.

Then we played the hurry up and wait game, waiting for time for her to be taken for EKG, CT-scan, and chest x-ray.  

 

I think it is not an exaggeration to say I had to explain to her 100 times where we were and why we were there, after which she always said she didn't want to be in the hospital and why hadn't I told them to just leave her alone.  And then she would ask again where we were and why we were there.

They finally took her off for her various scans and after she returned we waited again ("where are we and why are we here?  I can't understand a thing you say...")

Finally the x-ray guy came back with the report that all was fine, so we waited for the doctor to give her the all-clear.  And waited and waited and waited.  He finally came and told me what I knew he would--they can find no sign of anything.  She has no UTI, her blood sugar was fine, there was no sign of stroke, lungs are clear, etc., etc., etc.  He mentioned her going home by ambulance, but I told him I would drive her.

So we waited and waited and waited for the nurse to disconnect her from all the machines.  She does not wait patiently and asked me many times what we were waiting for. I finally had to go and get someone, because they were waiting for the ambulance.  They got her dressed, and gave me a gown to replace the shirt they had to cut off, and while I went to get the car, they got her into a wheelchair and outside.

Naturally there was no parking to be had at Atria, so I parked illegally and told the girl at the desk that I was taking her to memory care and asked if I could borrow a wheelchair, since I didn't want to walk her through the building in a hospital gown.  

 

A woman we know in town whose mother just moved into Atria was happy to see me and started chatting, but I had my mother who kept trying to get out of the car, and the wheelchair that was not arriving and I was probably kind of rude to her and her mother.

Finally a new desk person called again for a wheelchair and then two of them came.  We got her into one and someone pushed her while I followed along behind as the beast of burden, carrying a bag with her stuff (mostly her sheets), pillow, doctor's orders, my cane and my purse.  

 

We got her to her apartment, which she has never seen before and didn't know where she is.  Most of the aides came to see her and I realized that though this was her fourth trip to the hospital, she had never had one of her spells in the memory unit so they were much more worried about her than I was (though one of these days she's going to surprise me and die during one of these "normal tests" trips to the ER)

I was going to leave her when they took her to the dining room to get some food, since she had not eaten anything yet, but she was terrified, said she had never been there before and didn't know anybody.  I tried to explain to her that someone would help her get back to her apartment, but she didn't know she had an apartment.

About then there was a blackout.  All electricity went out and an alarm started to ring and the aides were looking worried.  Automatic doors slammed shut.  Just what my mother needed!  It didn't last more than 5 minutes, but when it was over, all the aides were off somewhere discussing it, and nobody was around for me to ask to take my mother back to her apartment. She started crying and asked what she should do if the two of us got separated.

I finally found someone to take her back to her apartment and I got the heck out of there ASAP.  My patience had about reached its breaking point.  I told Walt she was worse than a toddler and I just had to get out of there.

And I do feel guilty about that.  But at least I left her in good hands.  I feel guilty that I forgot to kiss her goodbye and that guilt will probably bite me in the butt and she'll die tonight and I'll have to live with my last act being to ignore her when she felt alone, lost and frightened.

I am a bad person.

Bad Day

When I got to her apartment, she was in bed and seemed to be sound asleep.  I poured nuts into the bowl and then sat down for a bit to read and see if she woke up.  She woke up, actually, with a start, sat up and couldn't find me when I told her hello (she couldn't figure out she should look behind her).

It was one of her bad days.  I have seen her more agitated, so it wasn't as bad as it could be, but she said all of her insides were shaking, she didn't want to leave the apartment because she was afraid she'd do something wrong, and things just kept spinning around and around in her head.  (She's been saying this, off and on, for years, so it was nothing new.)

She said people would tell her to do one thing and then someone else would tell her to do something else and she didn't know what to do at all.  Well, of course, nobody was telling her to do anything, but in her head  they were.

She finally decided what she had to do was to sit and be quiet and see if she could get the shaking to stop.

I tried to get her to try some deep breathing, but didn't really think that would work.  She was able to follow the direction to take a long slow breath in and relax but she said that when she took the deep breath all the things whirling around in her head got worse.

I didn't want to leave her, but couldn't do anything to help her.  She finally decided that maybe if she got into bed and slept things would be better.  As it was after 4:30, I decided I would leave and let the aids know to check on her.

When I kissed her goodbye she asked when I would be back.  I didn't think she could handle "in 6 days" so I told her "a couple of days" and she got this look of panic on her face and asked what she was going to do without me.  Just the guilt I needed. 

I talked with one of the aids and then I sent an e-mail to Jen, the head of the memory care unit, to let her know how things were, that I would be gone for 6 days, that Ned would stop by to see her, and if need be, they could call my cell phone and I could be home in about 9 hours.

I'm hoping they won't need to call me.  And I can't even call HER because if she's still agitated, I don't want to make it worse.

Dammit.

Getting Lost

I went to Atria earlier in the day.  She was in the community room at a sing-along  She now greets me as if I am along lost relative whom she has not seen years.  She usually gives a gasp and then says "When did YOU get here?  I didn't know you were coming."  I think in that moment she thinks I'm one of her sisters, but as we talk she finally seems to know I'm her daughter (though at one point she asked me "What am I?  Your sister? your brother? your mother?"  

She complimented me on the shirt I was wearing, which has a design with zebras on it.  When I pointed that out she looked confused and when I said they were horses with stripes, she told me I was the smart one and she didn't know about things like that.

She went to the bathroom while I was there and got lost coming out of the room, taking the wrong door and ending up in the hallway, barefoot.  One of the aides brought her back, surprised to find me there. My mother had already forgotten that I was waiting for her.

But I stayed an hour and, all things considered, it was a decent visit  It's been a long time since she's had either an anxiety attack or has fainted and I'm very pleased about that.

The Long Goodbye

I went to Atria today.  My mother was thrilled because she hasn't seen me in a year.

Comments like this make me feel more comfortable going less and less often because to her it's either today or a year ago or a year from now. 

I couldn't find her when I got to the memory unit and one of the kind aides said she would go and find her for me.

To my amazement she was outside!!!!!!  This may be the first time she has gone out of the building on her own (of course, I don't know if someone took her outside or not).  Today was the first really comfortable day we've had (75⁰) and a really lovely day, so I'm glad she was able to get out and enjoy it.

When the aide brought her in to her apartment, she didn't know me, but quickly figured out who I was, but I don't know if she thought I was her daughter or her sister.  Possibly both during the hour I was there.  At one point she talked about Walt ("what's the name of that guy you're married to?") and our kids, but then at one point she said "Mom is doing pretty good these days, isn't she?" and she I looked perplexed she said "Mom.  Our Mother" so I think at that moment, she thought I was her sister.  She also asked how Peach's mother Marge was (Marge died many years ago).

Steve Schalchlin's friend wrote a song about Alzheimers called "The Long Goodbye" and that's what it is...watching little bits and pieces fade away slowly.

If there is anything to be thankful for it's that she hasn't a clue what is happening in the world.  In fact, when I told her abut the Mexico earthquake she asked "was she working at the time?"  I never expected her to understand about the earthquake, but sometimes it's good to have something other than her age, and the weather to talk about, even if she doesn't understand it.

Fulll Day

The phone woke me up shortly after 5. It was Atria saying my mother was in great pain in her right arm and they could not calm her down. I was at Atria by 5:30.

She was miserable and periodically screaming out in pain. She had a blood bruise on her arm and I said I would call Kaiser, which I did. They couldn't see her until 2 but we had an appointment with the social worker for her long term care insurance at 3 and she needed to see the doctor in the morning.

There was a lot of discussion and ultimately I took her to the emergency room.  Making a very long story short, the doctor found a tiny hairline fracture which they put a splint on.
 

This only took ~3 hrs. I was going to take her to breakfast but she wouldn't be able to use utensils so I just stopped at Starbucks for coffee and a muffin.

We got back to Atria and I left her and came home to sleep a little. I was totally exhausted. I woke up a couple of hours later when my guru called to let me know the computer was fixed, but I knew I didn't have time to get it.

Back to Atria. She was asleep and no sign of her splint which she had removed. I let her sleep until the insurance rep arrived.  I found her splint and put it back on her but she doesn't know what it's for and I'm sure she finally took it off again as soon as I left.

The exam took two hours and if there was any question of the company about her Alzheimers there is no longer any question!  The insurance woman could not have been nicer and it was heartbreaking to watch her trying to answer questions like "what is your name?"