Ode to Applesauce

My last post sang the praises of the Magic Bullet, but I must be honest and say that after a few months of spending 40 minutes every five days to prepare another batch of "Med Smoothies," filling half my freezer with the concoctions (fruit in the morning, chocolate at night), running out to Costco every couple of weeks for more frozen fruit, soy milk, and chocolate powder, and listening to Betty's constant complaints about having to drink the things, I needed another system. In MIL's defense, you can't put enough fruit and sweetener in a 16 oz cup to hide the hideous taste of 8 or 9 ground-up pills.

There was also the unintended consequences of having her dawdle for up to 90 minutes over these drinks, twice a day, taking a sip, eating a Cheeto or Veggie Straws, taking another sip, complaining, and so on. I had to stick around, because the last bits of pill would sink to the bottom of the glass, and I had to get her to take that last drink before discarding the cup in the kitchen sink. There was also the twice daily ritual of having to anwer the question, "Will I need my book?" This was her way of asking, "Will I need something to do while I take tiny sips of this wretched stuff and listen to you bitch at me about how long it's taking?"

So it was becoming a Lose/Lose.

Enter my good friend, Colette, an RN, who swiped a pill crusher from work and said to put the crushed pills in a couple of tablespoons of apple sauce and be done with it! So simple. Betty already hates applesauce, so I'm not ruining something she would like to like, if you know what I mean. And it takes only minutes to consume a couple of spoonfuls of applesauce, even if you're Betty. No book, no searching for her glasses, less complaining, way less of my time.

So thank you, Colette, and thank you Johnnie Appleseed and the Motts Corporation. We still use the Magic Bullet for non-medicinal smoothies, and we love it.

The Magic Bullet is... a Magic Bullet!

Forgive the long pause between posts. I've been conscious of the fact that while ranting keeps me from murdering, it can also be an invasion of other people's privacy. But I finally have something NICE to say, so I shall say it:

I am using a Magic Bullet blender system to grind up Betty's pills and turn them into smoothies, and she hasn't thrown up since! All credit goes to Kim, my friend and Betty's companion and driver, for the idea. It's absolutely brilliant--in the morning, I grind pills, add vanilla soy milk, strawberry syrup, a few teaspoons of unflavored fiber powder, and a cup of frozen fruit, then grind again. In the evenings I grind pills, add vanilla soy milk, chocolate syrup or powdered drink mix, and mix again. The difference in color is key--her morning and evening meds are different.

I went on ebay and bought extra blending cups and lids, and I can make 5 days of shakes at a time. Betty's doctor and pharmacist assured me that grinding and freezing won't make her medicine less effective. What a miracle, to pull a shake out of the freezer, thaw it in the microwave, and serve it. She's not wild about the taste, but it's drinkable, and when (not IF) she complains, I remind her that we can go back to swallowing a dozen pills... that ends the complaining.

THANK YOU MAGIC BULLET, FOR INVENTING A SMALL, EASY-TO-USE AND CLEAN, VERY POWERFUL BLENDER!

The Good News and the Bad News

THE GOOD NEWS:
It appears that a major part of Betty's nausea is lying down in bed right after she eats, so when we have her sit up for 30 minutes or so, she keeps her food down.

THE BAD NEWS:
The only way to keep her from lying down is to keep her in the kitchen or family room. If she disappears into her bedroom, I have to check every minute or so and listen to, "I wasn't really lying down, I was just leaning!" So I'm making her sit out here, but then she wants to watch MSNBC, which makes ME want to vomit. It's a no-win situation.

Things Could Be Worse

We went to a party on July 3, and met a really cute old couple who lived in the Assisted Living center where my mother resides. One of the reasons for the party was to celebrate the woman's birthday. I'll call her Mary. Her husband, whom I'll call Ed, has Alzheimer's Disease, and lives in another part of the building. They can't live together, and they went home early from the party because he "sunsets" and becomes very difficult in the evenings. But she quietly came back to the party, once he was settled in and under the supervision of the nursing staff.
Ed was a top executive at a huge corporation, and they met each other in a bereavement group after their respective spouses died. They've been married about 8 years, and traveled the world until he was diagnosed a couple of years ago. He handled millions of dollars in his business life, but now can't add single-digit numbers together.
A few days ago, Kim, who introduced us and hosted the party, told me that Mary called her, very upset. Ed hadn't slept in days, was accusing her of having an affair and yelling at her, and she was terrified to drive him to the doctor's office alone. Kim stepped in and drove, and I've instructed her to give my number to Mary, so she can call me if Kim isn't available.
I heard a news story today about a new Alzheimer's drug that looks promising. I don't suppose it will come out in time to help Ed or Betty.

Mother's Day Dinner... Not for the Faint Hearted

Well, the day started out okay. We had brunch at my mother's assisted living center, which was quite nice, although they promised complementary mimosas, and I didn't see any. I ate the chocolate mousse to assuage my hurt feelings.

Then I took Mikey for a haircut, inadvertently letting the girl cut it WAY too short, and he refused to speak to me about about two hours. He did mouth a few profanities, until I mouthed a threat of a time-out.

Mikey's 4th/5th grade lacrosse team played at 3pm, and they've never looked better. He got 3 assists and scored a goal himself. It was wonderful to watch, especially after the stunning defeats they've suffered week after week.

About how, you're asking youself, "Why did she call this 'Mother's Day Dinner?'" I'm getting there.

We took MIL Betty, my mom, the kids, and Ra Youn, our Korean host daughter, to Bravo!, a wonderful Italian restaurant. Betty (diabetic with Alzheimer's, in case you've forgotten) ordered a martini, then a second one, and tried to order a third. David told her NO, and she was ticked off to say the least. The poor young waiter wasn't sure what to do, but I explained that if he brought her another drink she'd be going home with HIM. He came back a few minutes later, and she asked again for the drink. He showed a resourceful imagination I never expected from one so young: "I'm not allowed to overserve, ma'am. I could lose my license." By the time Betty processed this, he was gone again. She was getting downright crabby about not being allowed to have a third martini, when suddenly her head dropped down. I was afraid she'd died, but she'd just fallen asleep at the table...

We did let her order a big chocolate dessert, as her teeth had begun to fall out and she couldn't finish her dinner. If you've ever seen Monsters Inc., cue up the Harryhausen's Restaurant scene, and watch for the shot of the monster opening his mouth to eat something--another mouth comes out of his mouth and snatches up the food. This is very much like Betty looked, with her teeth detaching from her guns, as though they had a life of their own... but not as funny.

Yet we survived all this, and we were just getting up to leave, when I heard a crash. David had been walking with Betty, holding her left arm. Without warning, she keeled over to the right and slipped out of his grip, her head landing inches from a big cement pillar. Two very nice doctors came rushing over, and asked if they could help. I asked the woman if she could have Betty put down... she smiled, but damn it, didn't answer.

Okay, just blowing off steam just then.

Thankfully, Betty didn't knock over the dessert table, and wasn't hurt, except for bruising her shoulder.

This was still better than the infamous Dinner at Carrabas, which I'll describe some other time. I'll give you a hint--don't read it while YOU'RE having dinner...

My Mother is Changing

She has called three times to see how our vacation went, not remembering that we've been back for weeks, I've visited her several times, and we've talked numerous times on the phone. I printed out my novel, so she could read it now, while she might be able to enjoy it, but she sees a Kinko's box on her table and doesn't remember what it is, nor that she's supposed to read what's in it.

I'm glad she's living where she is--she likes the people, the food, the activities--but her anchor to the world has been raised, and she's drifting slowly out to sea. Soon I won't be able to reach her at all.

You Want Me to WHAT??

I had a colonoscopy today, just for the sheer raw fun of it, but it confirmed my decision not to put Betty through it. The test is nothing--it's the day before, when you can't eat real food all day, and the evening before, when you have to drink two liters of weird (though clear, thank God) liquid and take pills that make you run to the bathroom every 20 minutes all night.

Betty had an upper GI, and they also want to do a colonoscopy, but I'm saying HELL NO. She doesn't have enough symptoms to put any of us through that. I could barely handle it, and I'm fairly lucid and 40+ years younger.