February Mom Is More Difficult and I'm Soooo Tired

2/3/2012

I have several questions and puzzling observations that only females at the age of motherhood or adulthood can understand. I know in theory why animals (mostly the females) eat their young and that males kill the young if they want to mate and the young postpone that activity. There are other reasons but those are not the object of my writing. After taking care of mom for over three years and especially  now that she has very depressing needs I'm convinced more females need to eat their young so that in the ensuing years the offspring does not have to endure their decline. It would be a good thing (as Martha Stewart says) if mom only hallucinated seeing Riley, Suzy, and birds. She is seeing two things, persons maybe, at her window.  I had to wash the sheets, the two mattress covers, pjs, underwear, etc. starting at 7 am. She is dry, fed, warm and the bell ringing has begun. Initially there were four things she wanted, but could only remember two. "Why do my hands hurt? Sometimes they hurt and other times they do not." Arthritis. "What is over by the window that I want?" Is it the juice, water, stuffed frog, candy or your oxygen machine? "No." Do you want the window shades up or down? "No." Do you want the water? "No" and spits it out.

Dang! I can handle dealing with the pee and the shit, but I urp when it comes to spit. Spit, it's the horrid stuff that things with testicles barf out of their mouths. They get out of the car, spit, they leave a building, spit, and when they stand around talking to each other, they spit. What is with this spit thing? How come I have never seen a female spit? The only time a female spits is when the thing with testicles urges her on with too much alcohol and she overflows. Sorry I digress.

How do the mothers of our species deal with babies that refuse food, cry, pee and shit? How come we don't eat more of them? Since I have a being that has digressed to the baby stage all you future mothers and ex mothers (is there such a thing?) have my total respect. I respected and admired you before, but now faced with all this pee and shit and washing of sheets, plus the drying and folding and then starting all over again, I give you a crown. I'm exhausted trying to figure out what she wants. She has rung the bell 7 times (I'm not counting) and when I get there she doesn't remember why she rang it! This sounds exactly like when a baby cries. How the hell do you get it to quit?  It's dry and fed what more does it want? Hold it? Yeah, like I'm going to pick up a squirming, spiting, arm waving, 80 pound being that isn't satisfied with anything I try? I'm sorry. I'm calling mom a being because "she" isn't there. I'm not going to insult the past her by calling the present her, mom. This is some sort of alien being that is inhabiting what is left of her body.

To all of you that have children or plan to have children, I give you my blessings and best wishes. To all of you that still have parents and relatives that may need you in the future, I give you my sympathy. This is the damn hardest thing to watch, do and endure.

If I lost a train of thought or digressed, I had to answer to 5 bell ringing episodes before I could finish this revelation. She is now at the point that she rings it less than 5 minutes after I leave the room. This is going to be a long, long day.

2/11/2012

I stopped writing for a bit because I realized that I was not going to post the truth anymore. So I will wait until I'm asked before giving this part of mom and myself away. It's like in all communication and art some people get it and others don't and it's gotten too hard to explain.

Taking care of one's parent especially one's mother is hell. There is no other way to describe it. I'm sure other caregivers don't feel the way I do. This is hard work. There is nothing more painful than watching your parent devolve unless it is taking care of your parent as she devolves. There comes a point when you have to let them go and not view them as your parent. How can this "thing" be my mom? She was so proud and careful about her appearance and her environment. She liked pretty clothes and to go out in public. She no longer can do any of her favorite activities. All she can do is lay in bed, sit in the chair in the hall or sit on the toilet.

She is helpless. She must be fed, bathed and watched as if she were a baby. She is baby like, but she won't grow up or improve. She will only continue to get more helpless and dependent. No one tells you how hard this journey will be. You read books and articles and speak with hospice workers and until you are right smack in the middle of it you have no idea. There is no amount of information that prepares you for the reality of taking care of someone with dementia.

Mom does have moments of lucidity when she wishes for the end. She is aware of her condition and hates it. She realizes the degree of her helplessness and wants it to go away.

She is refusing to drink her favorite juice, no longer likes the water and doesn't know what to ask for anymore. Her frail hands grasp the air in search of the words to express herself and she cannot grasp them. It is so hard not to get frustrated with her because she has had you up since 2:30 am with false demands. She rings her bell and then doesn't know what she wants. Especially in the evenings when she gets "sundowner" she becomes the most demanding. You are going to her room every 5010 minutes to see what she needs and she doesn't know either, but keeps ringing.

There is no way to satisfy or placate her. She is in another place and wants you to stand and watch her. I don't want to watch her anymore. I get upset with myself because I don't have the heart to do it anymore. Being in the middle of this death watch is a torment. I don't know how other people do it. Some days I can fly through it and not feel very much. Other days I'm whipped, exhausted dealing with her and feel trapped between her needs, my husbands' and mine.

I'm going to ask for those five days when I see Sara on Wednesday. Even if we do not go anywhere, at least I can relax the night and spend the day without worrying about her care. I know she will be afraid in a strange place, but what else can I do. Remain here with her when I need so much to get away. I may speak with Judy, but I really hate to do that. She has enough on her plate without me adding this new task. Sure mom might feel more comfortable with her but at what cost? The will probably drug her up enough so that she sleeps through the whole thing. When I return will it be worse or better? No way to know until it happens. Kind of like everything else in life, there is no true handbook that will lead you through life. I guess a surprise is better than knowledge. Knowing is worse. What's the saying? Ignorance is bliss. You betcha.

I'm going to take a pill or two, one for pain and one for sinus and maybe go off to sleep. It's 6 am now and the whole trial will start again.