Alzheimer's robbed me of my mom, and my children of their grandma . . .

Monday, March 28, 2011

Alzheimer's has robbed me of my mom, and my children of their grandmother . . .

                                                        

(Dylan and Grandma in the dining room on the Alaskan cruise)

Last night when I left the care center I was too numb, on brain overload.  I was so tired I wondered about getting home safe and sound.   If I was a drinker I would have arrived home announcing, “I need a good strong drink.”  The most we had in our house was a couple of unopened bottles of Grey Goose Vodka and Tequila, and some Marks whiskey.  Granted it is good but it’s not something that one should relying on and certainly not something to drink, happily, alone.   I made it home safe and sound.

Yesterday mom’s mid-shift nurse, Betty, talked to me about mom and what was going on with her.  Mom was initially admitted to stay here for 3 weeks.  Three weeks to work on her limbs, muscles, coordination, etc.  It’s been 3 weeks now no one had said a word to me about what is going on medically with her.  Since we’ve been home from Austin I have been nervous about asking, preferring to keep my head buried in the soft sand.  Betty caught up with me and we say and had a chat.  A chat, when I was working in domestic violence, I referred to as the come to Jesus chat, which is THE talk one has with a client about their staying in the shelter.

Mom is not mobile.  She can’t get herself up out of bed alone and certainly can’t get into her wheelchair alone.  Her limbs, on her left side are growing weaker by the day and she is in this facility to assist her in all her needs and transition her back into her home, with us.  Right now Phil and I do not see that happening for mom.  Unless she makes an incredible jump in recovery mom isn’t coming home with us.  She will stay, becoming long-term, at the care center.  

Apparently, after I left mom on Saturday night---had her in her jammies and tucked into bed, she got up.  She got up and tried to walk on her own.  She fell to the ground at the foot on her bed, which only one or two steps at most, but the fact is she fell.  She didn’t break anything but her pride.  She is vey bruised up and down her left side.  Grace and Betty gave her a good looking over and then proceeded to get her back to bed.

Although it does little to no good, I too had a chat with mom about her needing to be completely dependent on her nurses to wait on her so she can get well and strong enough to come home.  I could literally see this instructing plea going in one ear and lickety-split out the other ear. 

 I get it now.  I know mom isn’t coming home with me.  I get it.  So, can we stop with the falling and the bruising?  Why can’t mom just be left alone to live out her final days, whether this is in terms of days, weeks, months, or years in peace without pain?  When I heard what happened, Berry showed me all the bruises and I asked mom if she was hurting, and she slowly and quietly moaned that she was sore from the fall.  Betty gave her a prescribed pain med, and I had another talk with her about asking for everything she needs. 

I couldn’t sleep last night.  I kept waiting for my phone to ring and Betty to tell me mom has fallen, again, and was on her way to the hospital with a broken pelvic bone.  I do not want mom’s life to be reduced to a hospital bed with a broken pelvic bone.  While I know mom is restricted as to what she has the freedom to do right now, I still want her to claim her life and be involved in it.  Her Alzheimer’s seem to be taking a backseat to her physical problems at this point, although I still believe the Alzheimer’s will remain her primary condition.  As I type that I wonder does it really matter what her primary or secondary condition is?  It’s bad, and it’s all robbed me of my mom and my children of their grandmother.

It’s robbed me of my mom, and my children of their grandma.   .   .

Marileigh

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