My mom doesn't know who I am any longer.
But sometimes she thinks I'm funny and tells me so.
Most of the time her words are jibberish, and I pretend I understand.
But on occassion, she is clear.
Yesterday she said, "You're the strong one". That was a surprise.
Was it what she intended to say, or just an accident?
In the past she has said things like, "You're a nice lady", or "You're pretty".
But, her last comment seemed so insightful.
I wish I knew what was going on inside her head.
I think I could do a better job of making her comfortable.
We saw the doctors this week. Their reports weren't good.
"Keep her comfortable", was the jist of it.
They did some testing and found she has no circulation below her knees due to atherosclerosis (as if Alzheimer's wasn't enough).
So that's why she's not walking much. The blood vessels and arteries are almost completely closed. "Hospice isn't far away", they told us.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Autumn brings change
She can no longer walk. As of last Friday, actually, she couldn't stand or put pressure on her feet. Its wierd. One day she's shuffling from the bedroom to the kitchen almost every 15 minutes. The next day, she can't hold herself up.
We tried using a walker that we had here at the house, but she could not hold herself up. So, my dad went and got a wheelchair.
It helped a little, but neither of us has much experience with transfering. I think I hurt my back trying to pick her up yesturday. She's like a bag of sand. Heavy, weighty. Now, Dad is touring care facilities. Looking for something suitable and affordable. He tells me the starting price is $4100/month and the prices goes up from there. The selling points they lace in their pitch such as: daily activities, brightly colored rooms, flat screen tvs, etc. really don't have much revelence in our case because she sleeps most of the time. We wake her to offer her water and food or to check on her bathroom needs. That's it. She has little interest in food, people or her surroundings. It's amazing how things have changed from a week ago. Shocking actually. And I'd really like to leave. Run away. Go surfing. Put my head in the frigid water and shock my ears with the sound of crashing waves. Yesterday, I actually visualized packing my van and driving away. I was going to tell my dad that I reached my threshold and can no longer deal. I was planning to drive to the beach house where I would be safely away from the pain of watching them both suffer. But, I'm still here. Trapped in a way. Because, how can I leave. She's my mom.
We tried using a walker that we had here at the house, but she could not hold herself up. So, my dad went and got a wheelchair.
It helped a little, but neither of us has much experience with transfering. I think I hurt my back trying to pick her up yesturday. She's like a bag of sand. Heavy, weighty. Now, Dad is touring care facilities. Looking for something suitable and affordable. He tells me the starting price is $4100/month and the prices goes up from there. The selling points they lace in their pitch such as: daily activities, brightly colored rooms, flat screen tvs, etc. really don't have much revelence in our case because she sleeps most of the time. We wake her to offer her water and food or to check on her bathroom needs. That's it. She has little interest in food, people or her surroundings. It's amazing how things have changed from a week ago. Shocking actually. And I'd really like to leave. Run away. Go surfing. Put my head in the frigid water and shock my ears with the sound of crashing waves. Yesterday, I actually visualized packing my van and driving away. I was going to tell my dad that I reached my threshold and can no longer deal. I was planning to drive to the beach house where I would be safely away from the pain of watching them both suffer. But, I'm still here. Trapped in a way. Because, how can I leave. She's my mom.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)