Today Dad fell. He didn't call us. He said he wasn't near the call button. He was standing, bending over to reach his slippers. He fell but managed to fall into a sitting position and didn't hit any furniture on the way down. He was near the bed. He managed with Mom's help (which is an unknown component, due to her Alzheimer's) to stand. He says there isn't any pain specific to the fall. Still, he had been planning to go shopping with us this morning but chose to stay home instead.
He has dozed all morning, which he has for the last few days. We linked initially to the change in his medicines since he wasn't sleeping well (many interruptions in the night to urinate). He has been having nightmares and our thoughts are that these may be due to his anxiety about the impending separation from mom when we have to face our reality and put her in an assisted living/full care memory loss facility. However, yesterday was his first day of full on (4 times a day) routine of pain medicine - I forget which one, Star knows - so it could be his pain meds making him sleep?
Don't know.
Mom is regressing quickly. She can't stop picking at her body to the point of causing bleeding and small tears in her skin. Her nose, her arm and her fingernail beds are the most abused areas. She just doesn't realize it, even when she is causing herself pain. It is a constant battle to keep her hands quiet and relaxed. She insists that she doesn't do anything or isn't doing anything... and she hates the band aids. Sigh. Her attention and comprehension are virtually gone. Even direct, slow communication is labored because she cannot follow. Yet, yet. She contributes spontaneously and on point just when it seems she can't stick with the general topic. Then, she says something completely non-related. She didn't recognize the butter dish this morning as being related to the pancakes we were having. And she usually is liberal with her syrup but today put it on the pancakes one teaspoon at a time. Seriously. But she specifically complimented me on the pancakes (calling them correctly, pancakes) and had four 4 inch pancakes. Go figure. Funny things she says: we were driving on Marshall Drive and she started to giggle and then commented how funny it was that the street was called Marshmallow Drive. Which made me giggle.
Sadly, the biggest change is that she can no longer perform even the most basic hygiene tasks. Yes, she can stand in the shower and she appears to be using the shower soap and washing her hair. There is no guarantee that she is actually cleaning her body properly, however. We recently had proof that she is struggling with frequent daily tasks like washing her hands after the toilet. I saw her go to the sink, three days ago, after using the toilet and rather than turn on the water and use soap, she picked up a washcloth, wiped her hands on it, leaving clear fecal marks on it and then lift the cloth to her face. Of course, I intervened, but what about when I am not there? And she has open sores from all the picking at herself. And she wants to help set the table and serve the food and so on. She is having daily incontinence when she wakes and we are not sure if it is solely urinary incontinence. Star has seen a roll of toilet paper thrown away with very clear finger marks on it that were made with fecal matter. Is she cleaning herself with her fingers? We just don't know.
So what is really going on? Well, it is hard to say. Star and I are exhausted. She has been doing this in one fashion or another for three years. I am coming up on my one year. Granted, I came in just as they - mom and dad - began to go down the back side of this hill. Which is hard - like coming into the middle of a private conversation and trying to figure it all out without interfering in the conversation and without intruding. Yet, having been welcomed to participate in the conversation, also trying to contribute real meaning. Both of us are beginning to snap at each other. Oh, not in the scary way or in disrespect, but in the way that means we are out of listening patience and processing patience. Thankfully, we see it and are paying attention. There is no way to truly get respite from this burden (willingly and lovingly accepted by each of us) for a real rest. Real rejuvenation. All we can do is look to the day when it will be different. But that day doesn't have one or both parents in it. So, that day is also begrudged.
The house is in turmoil emotionally because we have all identified the line in the sand that was the point where we will have to put mom in a facility. So I feel guilt (not the bad person kind, but the despairing no where else to go kind) and pain and concern. Mom is not without her intelligence but she is without a means of using it. Which is hard. She is so alone in this journey and we miss her because she is gone and she misses us because she can't find us. And we are all in the same room.
I worry that I am letting Star down. That my coming into the household was supposed to somehow make the time with mom longer and better. I know that it has. I know it continues to and I know that it will do so while we wait for a bed to come available in a facility. But I still feel like I "should be a better friend". (I know, I know - you tell the feelings to get in line behind the thoughts!)
I am afraid that I am letting Tom down. That, as the demands of mom and dad aging increase, he'll feel more and more disconnected from our life together. I worry that resentment will quietly enter into our relationship.
I am not overly worried about these things, either. I mean, I have perspective and I know what I know. And we all work so diligently to be loving, appreciative and compassionate to each other and to ourselves. But that isn't what I am writing about. I am writing about the moments when time stands still and somehow it landed full stop on a fear instead of a hope. And inevitably, time resumes its course and balance is blessedly returned. But for just a second - it hurts.
Money is a factor in all this but that is another blog, another day.
For now we hope: that we can find a place with a relatively quick availability for mom. That will free up our energies to keep dad at home longer. And it secures our home for ourselves a little bit longer. We hope, pray and plead for the house in California to sell. Money in almost any amount will be considered liberating. We hope that we can find ways to keep dad at homw until he passes, which is his desire.
For now, it is the fourth of July and there is cherry pie for dessert tonight.
No comments:
Post a Comment