Thursday, September 1, 2016

My mother's worst day




My mother is 92 actually closer to 93 than 92 and she has Alzheimer's.  She's closing in on the final stage.  She's currently living at home but doesn't realize it.  She often says she wants to go home which is heartbreaking since I've gone to great lengths to keep her in her home. It is now apparent that is no longer possible.  She fights us when we try to move her because she thinks she's going to fall. She screams and then cries like a baby out of sheer fear.  It's heartbreaking and the worst is sometimes it becomes apparent that she knows she's in this out of body experience that isn't a reflection of who she is.  On top of that she's actually trapped in a sub basement.  It's been dolled up with new carpeting and it looks nice but she is really trapped in this 20 x 12 space.  Recently it became apparent she could no longer manage the 7 stairs that would take her to a different level with better views but no bathroom.  It did allow her to escape that space and to enjoy the outdoors. Now the highlight of her life is looking  out the below ground-level windows  at  the garden she created.  It's my mother's masterpiece.  Growing up she was a stay at home mother, overwhelmed raising her kids.  She showed no creative ambition that we saw growing up. But quietly and in her own way she started to create this magnificent garden.   Now, with her current view,  she sees one Rose of Sharon bush and some flowers but it's 1/100th of what she created.  She has multiple bird feeders which I've placed close to the windows  and its been fun watching the birds flock to  the feeder, although the damn chipmunks eat the feed and chase away the birds. They  are the bane of my existence. At  least she is  engaged with the  birds that now frequent the feeder.  I've realized that something so simple can make you happy and it does it for both of us. 

That's background, now to the worst day.  I arranged to have a masseuse come to mom's home to work on her. She has a bad shoulder which interferes with  us being able to move her painlessly.  I know she liked it.  She fell asleep almost instantly--even though getting her on the table was a nightmare.  When the hour was up you could see a peaceful, relaxed expression on her face.  I felt like I won the war in a battle with few victories. Then we had to get her off the table which is no small feat for someone with this hideous disease.  It was a struggle, that expression immediately left her face as we tried to get her off the table.  We got her into a lift chair and she napped but when she woke up she was agitated, angry and confused.  And here is the worst thing, between fighting and screaming at us, she cried  (without tears but with heartfelt emotion) and wagged her finger in our faces.  Tragically there were moments of total clarity...and just as quickly as they appeared they disappeared. She knew someone else had inhabited her body and she didn't like it.  She'd apologize and then went bat shit crazy.  It did me in.  I had no more fight in me.  I wanted to sob but couldn't.  I could tell she felt the same way.  She has no idea why this is happening.  She's fearful most of the time especially since most of the time she has no idea who we are.  I am about to place her in a home and that breaks my heart but the situation at her home is unsafe and unmanageable. This sucks.  And don't think for a minute I don't look at my mother and think there but for the grace of god go I.  And that grace might disappear when I'm in my mid-80.  I'm a realist. I know that today will not be my mother's worst day. I always look at shitty life situations as problems that need to be solved but this life situation involves my mother.  Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.  There aren't many of those now but one can hope.   

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