Saturday, June 27, 2009

We're Trying Aricept

The VA doctors finally agreed to prescribe this, and I gave Betty the first pill last night. It's supposed to be taken at bedtime because of potential side effects. While the TV ads say "well tolerated by most people," when you read the medical disclaimers in the box, it apparently causes everything short of SUDDEN DEATH... and maybe I just didn't read far down enough to find the part about SUDDEN DEATH.

Betty is worried this morning becauses she's having very vivid dreams, and she's afraid it's a sign that she's losing her mind. She doesn't remember getting the diagnosis of Alzheimers (despite having been told it 50 times), but she remembers seeing the diagnosis on a paper in a doctor's office (actually it was sitting on our kitchen table). She's sad and worried about it, and can't stop talking about how real the dream was. I'm reassuring her that the fact that she DID figure out it was a dream is a sign that she's not completely crazy yet.

I on the other hand...

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Life at the VA Hospital

Well, it FELT like a life sentence, anyway. I took MIL for her 6-month checkup, and just as we were ready to leave, she got sick and ended up with full-body tremors that came every 3-4 seconds. Damn spooky, and we ended up spending the rest of the day in the Veterans Administration Hospital emergency room.

I'd brought my iphone for entertainment, but the battery died, and I couldn't leave Betty sitting there while I went to my car to recharge it so I could keep playing Scrabble. Well, I could have, but it would have looked bad...

So we ate lunch out of the vending machines (her blood sugar was low, a possible contributing factor), and I made horrible faces when nobody was looking and suffered through MIL saying, "I feel so guilty ruining your day" almost as often as she had the tremors.

They finally checked her in for overnight observation at 5pm, and I went home. If my kids weren't so weirded out by adults drinking alcohol, I would have self-medicated. As it was, I met my family at TKD class and we went out for dinner. I don't remember any of that.

From now on I'm not going near the VA hospital without my charger. YES, IT'S ALL ABOUT ME.

Oh, I suppose I should mention that MIL is fine--they think it was low blood sugar and needed another dose of restless leg medicine that messed her up that day. David picked her up in the morning and she's been fine since.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

My Two Moms

Well, not really. One's Betty, and one's my mother, but I'm starting to see worrisome similarities. My mother lives one neighborhood north of me, and is older than Betty, but comes from a line of women who live long lives, free of dementia. I'm afraid my mother, 89, is going to break that winning streak. She agreed to give up her car last week, but she's having more and more trouble keeping details straight in her mind. I took her shopping yesterday, along with the Korean student who lives with us, and Ra Youn helped my mother carry her groceries into her house. My mom had her keys in her hand and seemed to be trying to open her front door with the electronic car opener thingy. She covered herself quickly when it didn't work, but still...

We have a follow-up appointment with her neuropsychologist on July 1. I'm going to insist he take a look at her list of medications to see if there's something there that explains this, and that he put her on Aricept or something like it.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Signs of Trouble

We've had the discussion a dozen times since Betty started a kitchen fire a month after moving in here... DON'T USE THE STOVE. NO, NEVER. YES, I MEAN YOU. ALWAYS. NO STOVE. EVER. NO COOKING. NEVER. NOT EVEN A LITTLE. EVER.

It's been months since we've had to discuss this, but yesterday I had a large package of hamburger patties defrosting on the two front burners, when I heard the click-click-click-click of the ignitor. She was trying to light the burner to soften the earpieces of her reading glasses. Fortunately, she doesn't know how to use the stove, or flame would have melted the plastic wrap before I could have stopped her.

So we had the discussion for the 13th time, and she let me know that every sane person knows you use the kitchen stove to adjust glasses. I tried to raise my voice just enough to make an impression on her, but apparently, it didn't take, because she tried it again this morning. I heard the clicking from upstairs, but David was closer, and stopped her.

There is now a sign above the stove that says, "Do Not Use the Stove." There is a similar sign on the patio door that says, "Do Not Let Any Cats Outside." That one has worked fairly well, except when a cat escapes, comes to that door, and she opens it to let that cat IN, thus letting two or three others OUT.

She saw this sign and asked, "What's wrong with the stove?" I explained to her why I'd put the sign there, but she doesn't remember trying to use the stove, so she's upset about the sign. She keeps insisting that it's not necessary, because she'd never do anything that she's been told not to do. So I have to explain that she doesn't always remember what I tell her not to do, and she doesn't remember that this is true, so we do that little Dance Around the Logic Pole.

If arguing with her was aerobic, I'd be a size 4.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Independence--It's Not Easy

Betty tried to handle her own lunch a few days ago because I was gone. She poured a large can of soup in a China bowl, warmed it in the microwave, then dropped it on the range top. I came home with one hour to prepare dinner for the family and my mother whom I'd envited, and found smashed china and thick soup covering the burners, running down the cabinet below, and pooling on the floor. Betty was using various spatulas and spoons to try to scoop it into a bowl, which she planned to eat. I had to show her a piece of broken China in the bowl to convince her this wasn't safe. She wanted to help clean up the mess, which she felt terrible about causing, but this would have taken hours. She retreated to her room and had to be coaxed out to eat dinner.

After dinner she couldn't quite remember what had happened, and demanded that my 9-year-old son, who was home at the time, tell her what she'd done. "Something is happening to me. Something is happening to me. I don't understand it," she said.

I think I did a good job of not getting angry at her, but my husband and daughter were both gone, so I had to clean it up myself, my mother showed up 45 minutes early for dinner, and it was a complete disaster... I WAS angry, but Betty was so upset with herself that I couldn't get mad at her. I tried to reassure her that it was just an accident caused by low blood sugar, and that the only thing she should have done differently was to ask Mikey to help her.

He came to me later and "confessed" that although he had asked her what she was doing when he saw her with the soup, he let her proceed on her own since she wasn't using the stove. (She's not allowed, since she almost burned down the kitchen with the toaster oven...) He felt guilty that he hadn't stepped in to help her, but was torn because he's been told not to act like the "babysitter" unless he sees her doing something really dangerous. Of course, I reassured him that he wasn't at fault, and reassured her that it was just a can of soup.

I've had to learn to let my kids try things on their own, even if they end up causing a mess, but I can't do this with Betty. She's not going to get better, not going to retain new skills, and not going to learn from her mistakes. It's a balancing act between not insulting her by treating her like a complete incompetent and not tripling my workload by letting her help herself...

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Every Day is Different Here

Betty is very sharp today--walking fairly well, philosophizing about the mythology of God, the innate worthlessness of mankind, the supremacy of viruses and insects... She was a sociology professor, and still retains her intellect, at least on days like this. She doesn't want to go to the Senior Center, but she missed last Friday and Monday, and needs the physical therapy.

She'll do more talking and interacting there than she will here, so I don't feel too guilty about taking her, although she considers it a waste of time and says all anybody does there is watch TV.

I think the Silexa (anti-depressant) is working, as is the physical therapy--she hasn't used her walker for days, and although she always looks like she's going to fall over, she hasn't fallen in over a week.

Yesterday I took her to Barnes and Noble (the Happiest Place on Earth) and left her for about 90 minutes. I was panicked the whole time, but when I came back, she was fine. She had a two foot tall stack of books to buy... although she'd previously agreed to settle for three. I gave in, though, as it finally occurred to me that fewer trips is better than lots of trips, and the only way to justify not taking her is to remind her that she just spent $117!

Monday, May 11, 2009

The Aftermath of Sweets

This day was disturbingly predictable... After the Mother's Day candy and dessert with dinner (Chocolate Thunder Down Under from Outback Steakhouse), Betty was sick and lethargic today. She threw up in the car (thankfully, the car was still in the driveway) on the way to Adult Day Care, so she stayed home and slept most of the day.

On another note, the VA called last week and they've taken her off her blood pressure/heart pill, as it seemed to be lowering her blood pressure too much. So her balance has improved, and she's walking without the walker, at least for now. Tomorrow the home health care lady is coming, and she'll take her weekly shower. It's the little things in life that keep me sane...