Friday, June 13, 2008

Adventures in Alzheimers

Originally posted on MySpace Jun 13, 2008

Shortly after I denounced Sainthood in my last blog my Mother gave me the ultimate reason to consider moving her from our home to a full care facility. Sorry, I just can't use the term "nursing home" or "rest home."

My daughter and I had stayed up late and were about to head to bed. She gave me some insight to her thoughts regarding the last blog. I am thankful that she did. First off, I told her that I never ever want her to feel like she has to care for me in my old age (provided I live to old age) and that if I should live with her family, that she must put them first and move me out if/when they begin to be affected by my presence. She asked me if she could have it in writing. LOL - smart girl! But then she said that she was really happy that G'ma had come to live with us for the first couple of years. I really needed to hear that. Thanks, Lyss!

Next she agreed with all the other comments left me. Then we talked about Mom and some of the problems and laughed at some of the things that happen and then we hugged and said goodnight. She headed downstairs to her room and I to mine. That's when I noticed that G'ma was awake and sitting on the very very edge of her bed, extremely close to falling on the floor. OMH, why was she up and not sleeping?? It takes her hours to get sitting up in the morning and even longer to actually get her feet to touch the floor. (Well, it SEEMS like hours!!). I yelled for Alyssa to come back and help me. She was so far off the bed there was no way she could stand up from there. We don't even leave her walker in her room anymore just to discourage her from trying to get up. Alyssa arrived and we wrangled the old woman back into bed and asked her what she was thinking. All she could say was that she wanted to know what was going on "out there" (meaning the livingroom) and she had to get up to find out. We weren't even noisy so we were so confused why she thought something was going on without her.

Mom has one of those beds that you can raise the head and feet but I don't know of any way to put rails on it. But now I am more concerned about her safety. This happened at 12:30 am and I am not accustomed to checking on her in the middle of the night, unless of course she is banging on her bedside table for something.

I am more and more certain that it is time to move her. I still don't want to do it before we move, though. I hope she doesn't make it impossible to wait!

Today I was standing at the kitchen island and sorting out mail. She could easily see me from her chair and she looked straight at me and then banged on her table to come get her up to take her to the bathroom. I was 10 feet away from her!!! Geesh!!!

Well, that's her banging now... it's not even been 30 minutes since she last went.....

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

A Saint? You Make Me Laugh!

Originally published on MySpace Jun 11, 2008

Yesterday I was playing World of Warcraft with a friend of mine who lives a couple of states away. Yes, I am a nerd like that - I LOVE games!! And the friend I was playing with is my real life best friend. We are not internet acquaintances who have no idea who we are talking to, we are real live living and breathing in the real world friends!

Okay, I guess that might make her a little nerdy, too, since she is the one that introduced me to WoW.

As we were playing Mom began knocking on the table next to her chair for me to come take her to the bathroom. I messaged my friend what I was doing so she would know I was away from the game and she messaged back, "You are a saint!"

No amount of talking would convince her otherwise since she has an inkling of what all is going on in my world. Despite that, I continue to believe I am the lucky one since I am healthy. But I digress....

Far from being a saint, I would consider myself more of a martyr. I do resent that Mom can't do for herself and that it all falls on me. I am not always nice to her. She annoys me and frustrates me and I wish I didn't have this responsibility, that she was a healthy and sharp 87 year old woman. Do you have any idea how hard it is to see a woman with a veterinarian degree try to remember where she is going when you get her standing up? Or watch her try to read a book but not be able to make any sense of the words? It hurts, deep down inside.

So as the martyr in the scenario, let me tell you who the saints are. The saints are my husband and children. My husband who quickly steps in to help mom to the bathroom when he sees that I just can't do it for the second time in 45 minutes. My husband who gently chides her to take bigger steps and not hit the wall with her walker. My husband who appears to not care that he is physically putting his mother-in-law on the toilet and helping her back off it. That is a saint. He has never complained about her living with us for the three years she's been here. Let me also explain that she did not always warm up to him since he married her precious (HA!) daughter. I nominate my husband for sainthood.

My oldest daughter also qualifies. She helps with Mom an enormous amount. If I ask her to get Mom up in the morning she walks into her room with a huge smile and cheerfully greets her and chats at her the entire time she's helping her. Morning is probably my least favorite routine. Mom is incontinent and we don't get her up in the night. She has a plastic mattress cover to protect the mattress and she sleeps with a pad under her to absorb the wetness. It's smelly and icky to get her up and into the bathroom to get her into clean dry clothes for the day. And then rinsing off her teeth and helping her with those. Then after she is settled into her chair and fed her pills, cocoa and breakfast we return to the bedroom and bathroom to take care of all the wet stuff and get it into the washer. My daughter who cheerfully helps with all this deserves to be called a saint. She doesn't stop there. If she's not working or otherwise busy, she is always available to help or run an errand or start dinner. These are people who should be called saints.

My youngest daughter just finished her senior year of highschool. She helps with Mom but a little less often. She went through this last year of school basically on her own. When she wanted help picking out a prom dress, I was too tired. When she needed addresses and help sending out grad announcements, I was too tired. She never did get a senior portrait done professionally. Where was I when she needed me? I was either too tired or taking care of mom. What kind of a saint neglects her family for another? No, I was the martyr who sacrificed my family for Mom. My daughter has forgiven me and says she understands and that takes a bit of sainthood, too. At her age, this past year has been the most important of her life and I blew it.

It pretty much took being hit up aside the head with a 2x4 to recognize what I am doing to my family. I am grateful to the family member that helped me see that. I believe I am doing the right thing for my mother and I simply hate the idea of putting her in a home. I keep thinking, "I can do this. I owe her this. I want to give myself to her this way. She did so much for me!" But what am I really doing for her? One day is like the next for her and she doesn't remember the one before. I know she is happier here than she will be anyplace else. But I have to think of my family now. Are they happier without a mom/wife? What have I given up for Mom at my family's expense? How many times have I not been available for my family because I had to care for Mom? The answer is too many.

I have to start to think about my own bucket list, too, and how can I do that when I have committed myself to someone else's life? It's hard to think about but I have to do what's right for my family and probably what is right for Mom, now, too. My last question is can I wait until we make our move? It's a couple of months away and I think it would be harder on Mom to put her in a home here and then move her later. I think we can all hold on that long.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Life sucks - but then you graduate anyway....

Originally posted on MySpace Jun 1, 2008

Current mood:pissed off

Well, it's now official. Not one of our relatives not already living with us will be here for Krissy's graduation.

G'ma Gully will be having surgery on the day of graduation. That's not something that could be helped.

Mark's brother Mark was going to fly out, but his wife is having trouble with her pregnancy and in and out of the hospital. Not a good time for him to be out of town.

His son Tim was going to drive out and get here last week. He and Krissy had an entire trip planned for after graduation ending up back in Seattle. Turns out he didn't have the time off until today, when he was going to leave and drive all night. He just called because he drove off with his wallet on the car and now it's lost - no license or money. And then got called in for work (guess he was on call even tonight after all....).

That last one just did Krissy in. All the effort we've put out for travel to weddings and graduations and such the last three years... It really sucks how much (little) we've been visited here. Especially now when it's my baby's most important day of her life so far.

I know those are some pretty good reasons for not coming. I'm sure everyone one else that's not here has their own good reasons, too. I guess life is just not always reciprocal. That would be asking too much.

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Why?

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Out with the old, in with the new

May 21, 2008

Current mood:breezy

Our house is finally listed on the internet. If you know someone who wants to live in Sandy I totally recommend this home. If we weren't relocating we wouldn't be selling - I LOVE this home!! Check it out...

Virtual Tour - my beloved home! I have to tell you that the photographer interjected Mom's bedroom in the middle of the master suite tour. The room with the green walls is not part of the master suite!

Normal MLS listing Not crazy about the photos - the photos online when we bought this home were a lot better.

Okay, now to share some photos that Mark took on his Cincy trip this week...

This is looking down Shane Lane - our house is the last one on the cul-de-sac, cloaked in blue construction paper. The houses you see behind us are further away than they appear to be. There's a significant green space between us and them, and a grassy park-like area before you get to the community pool.

This is the front from the right side. There will be a covered porch from the garage to the right side of the door.

Front of house/garages - left side.

Rear of house taken from green space, small ravine. The first bump-out with just a window in the basement is my future craft room - woot woot!!

Rear of house somewhat as seen (I believe) walking back from the community pool. Door will lead into our walk-out basement and, I hope, be the main access for my craft students to come to my craft room. Room above the door is the sun room - my favorite room of the house. A deck will come off the center of the house accessed by a door off the side of the sun room. Windows at the very top are the master suite.

I am excited about this house, but I would trade it all to stay here. You may have noticed there are no mountains in any of these photos...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

One step at a time, one day at a time.

May 15, 2008

Current mood:overstimulated

Read this or not. I'm just going to ramble and try to get out some of what I have been doing the past three weeks. I doubt it will make an interesting blog.

Back in April Harriett was getting sick much of the time. Unfortunately, I didn't think too much of it. I knew she was getting very tired of caring for Mom and thought it was probably what was really getting to her. Harriett's room is in a far corner of our basement and when she's in her room we just plain don't see or hear her. One day she said she'd been throwing up all night. To be honest, that means different things to different people. It could be very accurate or it could mean once. I said something about I'd take her to ER if she wanted to go. The next day she said, yes, it was time to go to the ER. For that to come from Harriett is very significant.

Just a week earlier I had taken Alyssa to the ER for a gall bladder attack so I was sort of expecting a quick trip with some sort of similar results. It was not to be. Harriett was tested for several different things, admitted to the hospital and given two pints of blood for severe anemia and IVs to rehydrate her and ordered more tests. Ultimately she was told she has stage IV breast cancer. She spent most of the week in the hospital before she was released to home.

We've seen so many doctors and been to so many tests I have about lost count. Harriett started radiation therapy and hormone therapy. The radiation therapy has been a daily thing and will last through part of next week. Most people go in and get zip-zapped and are back out in only a few short minutes. For some reason, Harriett's treatment take 45 minutes. For that period of time she has to lay very still on a hard table that is raised and lowered which is very frightening to her.

Her hormone therapy involves an infusion once a week. The first session took about 1.5 hours, two different bags of chemicals. The next two will only involve one bag and they can administer it more quickly. Did I mention she hates needles? While she was in the hospital they must have changed her IV from one arm to the other at least daily. Because she'd been so dehydrated it was very difficult to find a good vein. Fortunately, at the infusion center they found one easily, but being poked is still being poked and it aint much fun.

We've also been running around trying to get eveyrthing lined up for Medicaid. Now that that is finally in place, we have to run back to every clinic and doctor that she's seen and give them the card so they can get paid. Luckily, four of the clinics are in the same hospital complex and the registrar could apply it to each account. Saved us a ton of running around. We will have to drive back into the city to give the card to the Huntsman cancer center at the U of U hospital. That's the most inconvient one. The other three or four are more local.

While all this has been happening Alyssa had her gall bladder removed and had to take time off work and had some lifting limitations. The time off work was a good thing as she could be at home with my Mom, but the down side is that she couldn't do much to help her get around because of the lifting involved. My husband has worked from home for almost three weeks so he could be here to assist with Mom, too. Bless his heart!

Speaking of Mom, I am feeling like I may have to seriously revisit if I/we are physically able to care for her much longer. She has a harder and harder time standing up from a sitting position which requires us to help her stand by lifting her. She walks very very slowly with her walker and often has to stop and take a deep breath just crossing the room. We don't dare not be right with her when she is walking. That would be about once an hour to and from the bathroom. We have to assist her in sitting down on the toilet, getting back up, wiping if she did a poo, and pulling her pants back up for her (did I mention taking them down at the beginning of the process?). I am staring to have to hand her her teeth in the morning to put in. I used to just hold the denture cup in front of her and she'd take them out and put them in, but now if I do that she will try to put them in upside down, sideways or however she picked them up.

Yesterday she picked up a card my brother had sent her for Mother's Day and I saw her pointing at each word with her finger. She can no longer comprehend what she reads - very sad for the avid reader that she was. She can't comprehend what is happening in a television program. She has trouble understanding what is being said to her by the people around her. She does not enjoy listening to music. What else is there? It's very sad. Since she needs full time care I haven't been able to travel around Utah and see the beautiful sites in this state, and now we are moving away. When I realized how much I haven't seen I started to guage how much I've given up to care for Mom. I hate that I am starting to resent caring for her. But at 52 I have many more things that I would be doing if I weren't a full time care-giver. And at 52, I don't have as many years left to do whatever I want as I wish I did.

I took Mom for a long ride on the day we had the new carpet installed. It used to be something she would love - just getting out of the house and seeing the sites. But this time she sat in the seat beside me and could hardly see the things Alyssa and I would point out to her... bison and antelope. We had the greatest experience watching a coyote approach a small herd of antelope and all she did was let me know that she was sitting in the sun (meaning, let's go!)

I have no idea what it will be like trying to get her through and airport and onto a plane for a few hours when we finally make the move. She does wear a "diaper" so I will spend most of the trip trying to convince her she doesn't have to 'go.' Hopefully that will preclude doing the poo - I just don't know how to 'hide' that odor, and I KNOW I won't be able to squeeze into the lavatory with her....

Since she's been watching us scurry around doing all the things we have to do to get the house in shape to go on the market she's decided that Mark and I are separating. I don't know exactly how she came up with that theory, but she keeps asking me if we are. When I ask her why she thinks that all she can come up with is, "it's the only thing that makes sense."

Getting the house ready to go on the market has been another nightmare! I don't know how many van loads of "stuff" we have hauled to the DI. And that's with the seats removed. We've hauled dressers and cabinets and boxes and boxes of clothes and boxes and boxes of books and a ton of miscellaneous stuff. We still have more to take. We also had a storage unit put next to our driveway so we can move stuff out of the house and store it in there. So another couple of tons of stuff has been boxed and put in the cubey. You'd think that with all we have moved out that the house would look empty.... heck NO!!! Where does all this stuff come from and what's it doing here and why can't I seem to get rid of it?????

Mark's been doing all the really hard stuff - making the yard look great, scrubbing the floor in the kitchen to get all the dirt out of the tile and grout, painting this, that and the other thing, washing walls, doing the lifting, etc. He's awesome. Of course no matter what any of us is doing, we have to take frequent breaks to assist Mom to the bathroom or feed her or give her another pill.

Did I mention that my darling daughter Alyssa has made sure that her schedule at work is all switched around so she can be here to care for G'ma when I am taking Harriett to one or another of her doctors' appointments? Did I mention that there have been several days that Harriett & I started out in the morning to see doctors or case workers or whatever and didn't get back home until after 5 or 6:00? Did I mention that Harriett has at least three (it might be four) different anti-nausea medications and she still gets sick? Did I mention that Harriett has lost almost 80 pounds since January?

I don't know what will happen with Harriett's treatment when we move. Will KY take her into the medicaid system there? Will we find the awesome doctors that we have here? Is there anyway to find housing and transportation so she can stay here? Could I really leave her behind to face all this alone? I don't think so.

My youngest daughter graduates on June 3rd. Her grandparents will be coming for a week and staying with us. Of course we have to have a graduation party for her.

Since the housing market is going down the tubes, it would make sense to hope that our house will sell fast and very close to the price that we are asking for it. But what will we do then? We can't move until after graduation - and I don't know what to do when it comes time to move anyway with all I have to consider. Is it wrong to hope our house doesn't sell?

As Harriett and I turned the corner onto our street today the first thing I noticed was that the sign went up. The For Sale sign is now officially in our yard. It almost made me cry.

I keep thinking I want my life back... but I am not even the one with alzheimers or cancer. What have I got to complain about?

By the way...what happened to my "listening to" "reading" or "watching" selection? I miss adding that to my blogs.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

The Bitch is Back

Apr 24, 2008

We know what is wrong with Harriett. It's breast cancer. Please Pray!!!!!