Turning corners

I had a little scare with mombat yesterday.  On nice sunny days, she likes to get out and walk down her street a ways.  It's sort of a downhill slope to the stop sign, then we turn around and come back, and it's never been a problem before.  Yesterday, though, before we were halfway back to her house, she started leaning WAY forward, and breathing hard.  I got her to stop and put my arms around her, and she sagged against me with almost her full weight.  We went a little farther, and ran into a neighbor who got us a lawn chair.  She rested, and we made it home, but this is definitely a turning point, as she was taking that walk twice a day last fall without a problem.  She has an appointment with her doctor tomorrow, and I hope that we can come to some conclusions together about how best to work with mom and keep her motivating.  If she becomes immobile, I know we won't be able to continue to care for her at home.  She is too heavy for me to lift alone, and there are stairs to navigate at her house that won't be possible for us to use.

I think that mom is beginning to see that her situation is becoming precarious.  More and more often, she talks about "getting old".  Yesterday morning when I arrived, she had been talking with Tom about how she should "split things up", meaning who of the 4 of us should get what when the time comes.  We eventually convinced her that none of us needed anything, and that we should just leave things as they are.  I clearly recall about 20 years ago that she had her will drawn up, naming her executor and dividing equally her assets among the four of us.  It reminds me that I need to do the same thing.  I don't have much, but I know which of my brothers will get Butterball.

That being said, I am off to start my day and see that things go smoothly for mom today.  Bless you, friends, for reading and for thinking of me.  I may not be able to communicate with each of you on a regular basis, but I hope you know how much I appreciate your thoughts and prayers.  Right back atcha, friends!

Relaxing into the situation

Well, it's been a month since my last post, and for good reason.  This has been the longest coldest most frustrating winter for me and my mom and my brother Tom that we have ever known.  I am just now beginning to see some light at the end of my tunnel.  I noted something green trying to grow at the side of my house yesterday.  Weeds, no doubt, but I'll take any sign of spring I can get.

Lately, I've been evaluating some things and trying to make sense of my thoughts on them.  Mom, demented though she is, is still so independent and so insistent on staying in her home, that the thought of moving her or moving in with her puts everyone into a stressful tailspin.  So, on the one hand is her happiness - letting her stay alone in her house as she so badly wants - versus me moving in or moving her to a facility - which would mean what?  She would become upset, unhappy, angry, frustrated, and likely die in 6 months.  At this point in time, I've decided to relax into the situation and let things be.  If she should fall or become ill, as will eventually happen, then that event will lead us into a facility.  If not, she stays happy in her home.

Of course, none of this negates the fact that I need to spend a bunch of time with her every day.  And it's mostly good time, though sometimes makes for a long day for me.  Today, I was there at 10 a.m.  We had a pill and a cup of tea.  My tea was made in a clear cup, and she commented that it looked more like pee than tea.  And that set off a case of the giggles that lasted for most of an hour.  "Shut up and drink your pee!" 

After we finished our pee, I got her to succumb to washing her hair in the sink.  We then moved to the bathroom for what has become known to me as the "top and tail" cleaning.  I turn on the little heater, and bring in a clean bra and clean shirt.  She will take off the old ones and wash with a warm washcloth and will put deodorant on.  Then I help her get the top dressed.  Then I stand her up and she sheds jeans and underpants.  Today, as she handed me her panties, she looked me straight in the eye and said, "You might just want to burn these."  Then we both laughed hard.  She can still get onto the toilet herself, but I think the skill of wiping has gone south.  Not that big a deal as far as I'm concerned.  It took me a couple of times just to figure out that I needed to start the process on top and finish on the bottom so she wasn't washing her face with the same cloth she used on her hoo hoo.

So, the fact that I've come to terms with some of these things has made for a better day for me and for her, and a good sleep and a good conscience too.  Everything is as it should be today.

Thanks for all your support, friends, and you know who you are.  Offer me advice if you like, but remember that you aren't walking in Shirley's shoes today.  Or mine either.