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Civilian casualties update
 
 
  Tuesday   November 8   2005       06: 02 PM

It's a constant learning curve that I'm trying to chase down, and I always lose. The latest this AM - until now - is about laundry.

Last nite Mom had an "accident". The best I could do, is have her change her undies, and put on a larger pad...believe me, that was HUGE to get that piece accomplished!

So this AM, when Kim was here, I suggested that Mom change into a new pair of undies, jeans and top. After a bit of tug-and-pull-and-push-and... she acquiesced. I told her to put her dirty clothes in the laundry, and when we empty out the washer and dryer, we'll get to it (she doesn't like to mix hers with ours), etc. But...here's the rub.

Things have changed (again)...she can't retain it anymore...for any time. A few moments ago, we were ready to do her wash, and she said, she did it already. Now, she couldn't have because our clothes were inhabiting both W&D. And she didn't pull them out etc etc. So, now comes the discussion.

She said, she did it already. We say, not today, trying to let her save face. Well that didn't work, she got angry and accused me /us of lying. Swell. I then tried (I know I know, never reason with...law number one of dealing with Alz patients) to suggest that we all know (i.e. Mom) that some times her memory burps, and isn't friendly to her. Perhaps this is one of those moments?

Well, of course an adamant NO is the answer.

I try you don't think that your memory sometimes goes "off"?

No.

Well, how about I ask you what Month it is?

Jan.

What year?

????

2000 and....

2010!

How about what day?

Monday or Tuesday? I don't know!

Well, it's November, Mom.

NO! When did it get to be November, it was just January....

Now it's my turn to retreat, but I try one more time to get at the soiled laundry. Mom, you know that on occasion, like just now, your memory goes off, and other times, it's spot on! Well, you rely on Gordy and I to help you when it's not right, such as today with the laundry.

I Did The Laundry!!!

Ok Mom, if you're absolutely certain you did it, I'll back off. Just know that if you change your mind, we'll be glad to do it for you.

I'm certain.

OK lesson learned? Grab her clothes next time I am successful to get her to change. It's weird, Mom has this neatnik idiosyncrasy -- she now folds her dirty clothes ever so neatly, and will frequently place it with her clean clothing.

ARGH!

If Mom had a clue that this was occuring, she'd be horrified, as she is a meticulous lady. Damn.

Also, last night she was terrified to pieces. She was beyond fear to date, she was the proverbial dear /doe in the headlights. There was no real reassuring her. She had an angry moment when she said, Tomorrow I'm going Home!

Well, the anger went poof and fear came back in in spade. Gordy sat with her in her room. I seem to agitate her, especially in the night, but men have inherent creds by virtue of having a penis.

Well, last night, Gordy heard me grab some Tazo, and he walked out, said Mom was almost asleep, then she heard him, and saw me and got all afraid, and crying and scared to bits again. My presence really isn't solace for her, it's one of those "as needed" things.

So, daily, it becomes more and more real about the need for a place for her to be other than here, but I can't bear it. It kills me to the core of my being. This is so horrible to have to make a choice like this for her. More to the point "to" her. Help me get through this somehow! I need help in this. It's too hard to bear, even with Gordy, Kim, her Doctors all here on the Island...it's too horrific to face.

I am so failing her on so many levels in so many ways. And, I find I can't bear to betray her.

Sure I've read the books, but it's no help, it's just words when you're the one in it.

Thank God /dess my brother, Jim, said that he'd be here for the "transfer" /move to a new place. Gordy and I are so exhausted, we really need his strength and his fresh eye and his support when the day comes.

I guess it's time for me to look. Talk about your deer /doe caught in the headlights. I'm having an anxiety attack as I right, I can't breathe. Shit! It sucks to be the responsible one, yes? I don't know how one can reconcile all this responsibility in one's mind.

I'm so tired.

Oh, yes, I know bitch bitch bitch, but guess what? The surgeon that I was referred to for my hands, well, he isn't taking Medicare patients.

I phoned Dr Jimenez' office ASAP, and have to get a different referral to a hand surgeon. I sure hope he knows of one, that it isn't just a name in his "group". So, as ever, back to square one, yet again.
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