November 30, 2002
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The jury is still out on Mom’s med change. She seemed really mellow and cooperative for a few days, but then became agitated for three days straight. It started on Wednesday. I had to bathe her without help which is not fun (my sister has missed helping me for 2 weeks due to illness and Thanksgiving - well, I don’t think she missed it, but she wasn’t here). I couldn’t get her up the steps and had to hold onto her arm and stand on the landing until she gave up and came up the first three steps. She fought, swore, and struggled. She plants her feet on the walls like a pro. She knows every evasive maneuver known to man. She was furious. My soothe (as opposed to smooth) talking doesn’t penetrate her rage, but I always try. She resisted through the whole bath. I don’t know how we got through it, but we’re both still alive. Thursday I was a bit stressed because I was trying to cook, make sure Mom didn’t destroy the table, and all the little things that go with having people over for a big meal. Mom did wonderfully well throughout the meal and enjoyed a big plate of food. My sister usually leaves immediately after the cleaning up is finished, but Carole was over so she stayed and talked to her. Mom became agitated and paced and paced, but she calmed right down as soon as my sister and her crew left. Carole had brought over a DVD with mountain music on it, and we watched it with Mom. So technically, I don’t guess Thursday can be counted as a bad day for Mom. Friday morning was a nightmare! For several days, Mom was getting up and letting me change her pull-up, but that stopped as suddenly as it began. Now we’re back to the knock-down-drag-out every morning. Anyway, I discovered that she had already removed it, so I eventually got another one on her. We have this wonderful routine of me bending over in front of her, asking her to step into it. She walks away repeatedly with me tagging along. She says things like, “I don’t do that.” “ That’s not mine.” “ No.” “I told you no.” “I don’t like that.” “This is my house.” By the time I get it on her, my back is killing me. Anyhow, I’m smelling poop, but I can’t find it. Being the great poop detective that I am, I start to peek under all the couch cushions and in all the corners. “I know you’re here somewhere. Come out, come out wherever you are.” Puzzled I finally isolate the source which turns out to be Mom. She has somehow concealed her BM between her buttocks without losing any of it while I put her pull up on. What talent. As impressive as this is, it also means I must start all over in the process of getting her dressed. ARG. I had her dress twisted up in one hand, while trying to get her clean with the other. She is fighting and flailing wildly the entire time. Mom always used to tell me I had strong hands. I guess she was right. However, my hands are sore for two or three days after each of these bouts. I was once again the victor and finally had her cleaned and dressed and ready to take to daycare. Except we were still in the house and she had no intention of leaving. I lured her near the front door and wrapped my arms around her middle just as she started to head the other direction. She grabbed onto a chair, but I put my weight into it and moved her to the front door. She carried the chair all the way, not letting go until she was in the doorway. Then she had to let go so she could grab onto the door frame. I kept the momentum going and was able to swing her onto the porch and get the front door locked. She only tried to get back into the house a few times before she gave up and got into the car. So we’re tooling up the road and I’m just happy that I will be free for the next few hours. Help me, Rhonda! All this before my first cup of coffee! When we get there, I fix her some coffee and try to get her to sit down, but she snarls at me. I smiled at the worker and said, “Good luck.” Fortunately the girl working is very laid back and doesn’t let Mom bother her too much. She said, “We’ll be fine. I’ll unlock the dining room and let her pace. You go on and have a good day.” I really do appreciate Kendra. She doesn’t dislike Mom even though she is very difficult. When I picked up Mom that evening, the aide greeted me saying, “I tell you what, I sure am loving this new medicine! She was great!” So just as I’m thinking that this med change is a total flop, now I’m not sure. This morning brought the usual fight about changing and I’m starting to feel like she is basically behaving just as she was before the med change. I’ll give it a few more days to see if some continuity develops. Oh yeah, Mom’s newest trick is peeing on my sweaters. She lays them on the floor and lets go. I just found my new red jacket hidden in the closet, wet with urine. On Thanksgiving she laid a different sweater of mine on my nieces who were napping. Unfortunately, it had fallen victim to Mom beforehand, so they weren’t real thrilled. Peeing on objects isn’t new for her, but my sweaters are a new target. She also urinated into a 20 pound bag of dogfood sitting by the back porch. It was mostly gone, but still. I am also reconsidering moving back to the beach. Perhaps I was too hasty in ruling that option out. I want to carefully examine things and let the Lord show me what is right. *I* want to go back to the beach. Could it be time for me to consider my own desires? Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chris’s friend’s mother was buried the day after Thanksgiving. She will be sadly missed by her husband, six children and many others who loved her. I did find out this all started with a gall stone. Life is but a vapor and can be snatched away at any time. May God help me to remember to use my time more wisely and to be loving and kind. Psalm 37:4 Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
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