MIL lately (6 months or so) talks in her sleep and it's getting more frightening. Last night she was in tears and panic and bewilderment about "I don't know what to do, where to go, how to do it" She begged for help for about an hour and I asked my husband to get up with her. He got up angry until I reminded him he told me to tell him to do it. He couldn't calm her down.
We took turns getting up with her from 11:15 until 2:00 AM and I finally went into her room for good and sat there until 4:00 AM when he came and got me and made me come back to bed.
She continued to have terrors the whole time, however, and only quieted down when she felt my hand on her. She saw 12 women in her room trying to give her pills. She saw soldiers. She thought her Mommie was sick and couldn't find her. She was walking in tall grass and lost her shoes (She can't walk anymore). She always felt sick and wanted me to call 911 or take her to the ER or call a doctor to come here. She kept saying, "I just don't know what to do. Tell me what to do." She kept calling out for her son "Jimmie" I told her not to wake Jim up. It would make him angry again. Usually that stops her talking. She worships that man and wouldn't do anything to upset him, but this thing that had hold of her wouldn't let go.
She was cold and was sweating until the bed was wet. I told her I couldn't put anymore blankets on her, she had 4 already. (We had given her a Tylenol PM to help her sleep, because she had been acting strange all day, but this was even worse than that.) She asked me for something to help make her feel better, she thought she was going to throw up. I gave her a phenergan. It took a while to take effect. Then she wanted a cup of coffee--it was 3:45 AM. I told her NO! She wanted an Aleve and I thought, "Oh, what the Hell. I ought to give her three or four or maybe the whole bottle. I gave her one.
When Jim came to get me at 4:00 AM, she was quiet, so I left. Maybe it was the Aleve that helped. I don't know.
She is still in that other world this morning. Last week she had an angiogram of her right thigh and they put a stent in her leg from her thigh to her knee trying to restore blood flow to her right foot to save a toe. Why??? Just cut the damned toe off and forget it. She can't walk anyway. That frigging operation cost Medicare $20,000.00. The vascular surgeon told me himself. Not to mention the collateral charges: hospital, nurses, radiology, drugs, lab, hidden crap. etc.
Anyway, she came home from the hospital going in and out of this condition and hasn't been right yet. By the way, she also now has MRSA. from the infected ulcer on the toe that they are trying to save. Now our whole family, caregivers, and anybody that comes here, has to be careful because she is here.
She cried out in pain one evening holding her crotch and begged to get medical attention. We thought her catheter might be in trouble. We got her to the ER and she politely told the doctor her fingers and toes "sometimes tingle".
He told her she has diabetic neuropathy, but had also done a urinalysis. She has always had a UTI. We could have told the moron that. But he told my husband "Sometimes a UTI can cause a little confusion". So on the way home from the hospital my moron husband says "I'm glad to know her confusion is from a UTI and she doesn't have dementia. I never thought she did anyway" Geesh!
This morning, after a week of bactrim, her urine is nearly clear. I told my husband, "this activitiy she is exibiting is not from her urinary condition!" He said finally "Maybe it's Alzheimer's. I don't know. She didn't know me when I went into her room to give her the morning pills awhile ago. I think she is in much worse condition than we think she is." I asked him if he wanted me to call her doctor and he said not to. He said to let it ride for awhile.
I believe he just wants to let her die here. If so, I will have to set fire to that room. I'm afraid we have another day of this type of activity today and another night tonight. He has consistently refused to put her in a nursing home, though. I can't sit with her nightly. If this becomes a nightly thing, I WILL insist on a full-time night nurse.
He now helps me put her on the potty, by the way. She can't get there by scooting from the bed to it, and I can't pick her up to put her on it. He told me to call him and he would help. So, I do. He does. Generally, though, she's in the process of pooping in her Depends before we get her on the potty and I have a bed, bath and beyond experience again.
I just pray to God to take her soon and ask all my Internet friends to put me on their prayer chains, too. If not for me, for her. I'm sure she is in a living Hell right now, too. I never liked this woman, but I didn't get much pleasure from seeing her like that last night, or even still like that this morning.