It has been one of those days. I woke this morning. I bought my mother a coffee maker because she has been asking for one. I saw her busy at the machine, so let her be. I like it when she does what she can. She was only making two cups of coffee, but she filled the filter with enough coffee for a big pot. She ran some more water through trying to get the coffee dilute. It was an awful mess. We talked about how much coffee to use. No problem, really. I know it was a challenge for her. I told her I didn't want any coffee and she asked me why in the world I had bought the pot if I wasn't going to drink coffee?
She didn't go back to bed -- understandable with that strong coffee! :-D She wanted to talk. It was the most confusing talk that was twisting my head about as I was trying to get things done. At lunchtime I planned on having some Italian pasta that was leftover from dinner. I searched the refrigerator, but it was nowhere in sight. I asked about it and she said she'd thrown it in the yard for the birds. She said she didn't want me to try to serve it again, and never to buy it again. I looked outside and there it was -- noodles and Italian sausage in tomato sauce sitting in bits in the front yard. I prayed some stray dog would find it and clean it up. But no problem, really. Things like this happen in the world of dementia.
Then she was looking outside and decided our neighbors had turned their water drain spouts to send water into our yard. She said she was going to talk with them and didn't care what they thought. Our neighbors are sweet people. I assured Mom that they hadn't done anything wrong. She didn't listen. She called someone and started crying about what these neighbors were doing to her yard. Sigh. I see an obsessive problem brewing. She wouldn't stop talking about it. I told her a good solution would be to move. No, she said. This was her house, and yada yada.
I had enough of the day and retreated to my room. Fortunately, I had an order that I had to fill that distracted me. It had rained steadily all day, so I hadn't been able to get out for a walk. It was kind of nice to head to the post office. I talked to the clerk there. The normal conversation was so refreshing. My mind can end up feeling so twisted that things can start to seem like all confusion after a while. How do we cope with such confusion?
All little things............................
We got very little company as time went on, once I got rid of the scam artists and door-to-door salesmen, the friends and relatives just evaporated. And if anyone DID drop in, I considered it a fortunate day when there wasn't a big stinking trash can full of used Depends sitting in the kitchen waiting to go out.
Jessie - I think we should all be glad that our LO's don't use the computer or cell phone (some still might!). My mom wouldn't know the first thing to do with either one. I've contemplated getting her a tablet so she could read ebooks in the NH, but my concern is that, 1) it would get dropped and broken, or 2) she simply wouldn't understand how to use it, no matter how simple it was.
There's a man in the NH that sits in the hall in his wheelchair all the time, or in the lobby (his choice, he's not just dumped there), and he has a tablet in his lap at all times, playing country music.
Still, 2yrs later it was worse, did the math, and equally in $$$ if I worked and hired home care, or not.
So....I quit my job. We're managing funds, we just don't eat out.
So... mom didn't get the concept that I am here now and not going to work for about a year. Meanwhile, asking if I am late for work, or sick, or ???
Then, she caught on, and won't let me go anywhere.
Right, you can say, I am back to beign 5 yrs.old.
I'm sandwiched between a husband and a mom. Glad there are no children. It would be a problem.
Anyway Maria, it kills us to say "no" to mami, but we're going to have to.
Anyone who wants to blog in Spanish, I am game. Not sure if there's any rules in place, or who to contact/moderator?
Keep up the good work everyone!
M88
So she finds her pillow cases and retreats into her little girl act. She is so sorry. It reminds me of an old movie where an old woman plays like a little girl. Is it a Bette Davis movie.
Well, things blew up again at dinner. If I say anything to her, she'll say I'm fussing at her and Daddy never fussed at her. No one ever fussed at her. She treats me like I'm such a bad person. This dementia thing makes us so helpless. We are told not to react, but it is like being beat without being able to defend yourself. It feels absolutely evil at times.
Even though I don't own a big house, and her room is about 12 feet away from the living room............I'm not veering off topic I hope....ah, ok, so I picked shows that are light, fun, easy to follow.
No more complicated wno is this, why did he say that, where are they........interruptions about 29,000 times per show
Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Now, show starts and I walk off
My bedroom is my decompression room
I just need a little fridge and a microwave and I will be set. Haha! Uuuggghhh, I also think, what was it like when I was a child and mom cared for me??? I have never been told or even hinted by mom thst I was a nuisance.
Guilt trip.....When is the next bus?...
M88.