WritingAfterDark

Nothing Ever Stays The Same

2009-03-09T08:47:00.004-05:00

The frequency of my posts most certainly hasn’t increased and neither has my visits to other’s blogs to keep updated on what’s been happening in everyone else’s life. It’s sad. Sad, because I come back and find that Robyn lost her mother in January during my absence. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, Robyn. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.

I was finding it more and more difficult to find time to spend on the computer, but to come back and read the news of Robyn’s mom and find that many of my friends have quit blogging has saddened me even more. Nothing ever stays the same.

I’ve felt lost lately. During the whole month of January, I had bronchitis and pneumonia again. I placed Mom in the assisted living from January 5th through the 25th so I might be able to recuperate and gain a little energy to bring her back home to continue on this journey of Alzheimer’s with her. We were snowed and iced in the whole week after I brought her home. Unable to get off this little mountain, I spent the last week of January concocting ways to keep her and myself busy. We did everything from coloring to baking and I found myself exhausted again by the first week of February.

Once the driveway was cleared, Mom and I were back on our routine schedule—I took her to day care, spent the days trying to catch up on sleep, grocery shopping, preparing everything for taxes, and all the normal running that one does to keep two households afloat.

On February 11th, on the way to day care, Mom complained of a headache, nausea, and dizziness. By the time we reached the front door of the day care, her legs became weak and she had turned ashen white. The caretakers at the day care grabbed a wheelchair for her to sit for a moment. A few minutes later we had her back in the car and I was on my way to the hospital with her. At the hospital, after routine blood tests, chest x-ray, and CAT scan, the ER doctor said she had a very slight start of a UTI, a very slight start of pneumonia, and no indication of stroke. He prescribed antibiotics and sent her home. He said she could continue going to day care because the antibiotics would knock both the UTI and pneumonia out within three or four days since they were caught very early.

Mom seemed to be doing fine other than an increase in her confusion. Monday, February 16th when I arrived at day care to pick her up, the nurse greeted me at the door. Mom was in a wheelchair and the nurse said Mom was having a difficult time walking and her confusion had increased. It took three of the caretakers to get her to the bathroom during the day and two of us to get her into the car. I called Two Feather to meet me at Mom’s house and he helped get her out of the car, into the house, and onto a chair at the kitchen table. Her legs were very weak, she was out of breath, and she was complaining of nausea and a headache. I called her doctor to explain what was going on and told him I was going to call the ambulance to have her taken to the hospital.

More of the same tests that were run six days earlier came back negative—no UTI, no pneumonia, and no sign of stroke. Yet, Mom was increasingly confused and her legs were increasingly weaker. She was sent down to physical therapy each of the four days she was hospitalized. Her doctor suggested I have her sent to a skilled nursing facility for continued physical therapy. So, on February 19th, Mom was transported to the skilled floor above where she had been in assisted living while I recuperated when I was ill.

Mom’s been there ever since—in a wheelchair. She’s receiving speech, occupational, and physical therapy every day and will through the end of March.

It’s been three weeks since Mom has been home and I find it increasingly difficult to deal with. It’s not like placing her for a respite care where I know when she’s coming home. It’s heartbreaking. I visit her every day. Some days are good visits when I wheel her down to the daily activity, play bingo, or we sit in her room and talk. Other days are excruciating when she cries and begs me to take her home. Good visit or bad, I always come back home feeling empty inside except for the overwhelming feeling that creeps in that I’ve let her down.

I don’t know what will come from her therapy, what will happen next, or whether or not she will regain her strength, but I do know that walking into her empty house doesn’t prepare me for any of it. Everything in the house is the same—except she’s not here. I walk around glancing at her things and cry constantly. Visiting her every day is not the same as having her home. I miss her terribly.

I love you, Mom.

Getting That Christmas Spirit

2008-12-07T23:15:00.001-05:00

I’m trying to get into the Christmas Spirit. I even put up Christmas lights in the windows in my rooms upstairs to brighten my spirit. I have nearly all my Christmas shopping finished. That’s not saying much since everyone who knows me knows that I normally have my shopping done by August. At least, I used to.

I have everything wrapped and boxed and ready to send to Stacey and her family in Alabama. Hoping to get that in the mail tomorrow after Two and I deliver the live tree to the day care.

Today was Two’s and my 6th Anniversary. He came down and had coffee with me this morning and after Mom was up and about he brought the Christmas tree upstairs from the basement and went home.

I spent most of the morning sorting through lights and chuckling because I was going through the same aggravation that Angel and Tim went through with their lights yesterday. Only mine was worse. I had all my lights working and had them on the tree, then, one minute the lights were lit and half the string was blinking and the next minute they lost their glow. I ended up taking all of them off and sitting for another hour fixing strings of lights. I finally got them working again and put them back on the tree just before dinner was ready.

I made a roast for an early 2:00 dinner and Two came back down to Mom’s and ate dinner with us. After dinner I had planned for Mom and I to decorate the tree. She had no interest in helping decorate; she just wanted to sit and watch. I think she enjoyed me struggling with the lights. She laughed a few times.

Never before has it ever taken me so long to put up a Christmas tree. After it was finished, Mom and I had a light snack. She couldn’t wait to go to bed and I couldn’t wait to come upstairs to let loose the tears that I’d been holding in all day.

It felt so odd decorating the tree by myself. It was always a family project and there was always a lot of talking and singing and laughing. The only person there to share it with was Mom, who had no interest in what was going on. She didn’t comprehend that Christmas was near, what the tree was for, and for that matter, I’m not sure she even knows what Christmas means anymore.

After a long hard cry, I sat on the bed and looked at the Christmas lights in my window. I’m not sure what this holiday season or the winter may bring, but the lights in the window helped brighten my spirit. I know that, if even for a moment, Mom enjoyed watching me decorate the tree, the time it took was worth it. When it was finished, she said it was the prettiest tree she’s ever seen. For now, I’ll take all those moments I can get.

Happy Anniversary Two! Happy Holidays to everyone. I'll try to post more frequently.

The Last Month of the Year

2008-12-06T21:23:00.002-05:00

Here it is the last month of the year and I sit wondering where the year has gone. As I look back at some of my earlier posts, I become more and more aware of Mom’s mental and physical decline. She rarely knows my name. She sometimes know I’m her daughter, and even when she utters the word, she doesn’t comprehend that me being her daughter means that she is my mother.

Most of the time, Mom has no idea where she is, even when she’s home, and I’m just a nice, pretty lady who sits and talks with her and treats her very good.

We’re no longer living with a moment-to-moment memory—we’re living second-to-second. It is so heartbreaking watching Alzheimer’s take her mind.

The day care is decorating for Christmas. They already have an artificial tree decorated. On Friday, they said they wanted a small, real pine tree (a Charlie Brown tree) to set beside a cardboard fireplace decoration. I told them I could help them with that. Two and I will be cutting down a small tree and donating it to the day care on Monday.

Mom and I went to Angel’s house Saturday to watch Angel and Tim put up their Christmas tree. Their light strings were giving them problems, so we got to visit while they sorted through what worked and what didn’t. Katie was napping most of the time we were there, but we had the chance to visit with her when she woke up. She was putting together a puzzle of the United States just before we left.

I’m sure I’ll get to see their tree decorated sometime during the holidays. The tree they bought was beautifully shaped. I’m sure by the end of the evening it was filled with beautiful lights and ornaments as well.

November Update

2008-11-30T22:30:00.005-05:00

I’m gaining some strength back and feeling better and Mom is doing well health wise, but she’s losing strength in her legs and has had a drastic decline in her memory and ability to comprehend things.

November 7th was my 56th birthday. This year was much better than last. I heard from both my daughter’s early in the day. Two took me out for lunch and I received a few surprise calls. I also had a very nice surprise when I picked Mom up from day care. Angel had called the day care and asked if they would help Mom make a birthday card for me. Mom handed it to me in the car and when I opened it I broke down in tears. Mom was so proud that she remembered my birthday and made a card for me. The envelope had a flower on it made with foam and my name in foam letters. The inside of the card had more foam flowers and Mom’s handwriting. “To my beautiful daughter, Joanne. I love you, Mom.” Inside the card was a small wooden apple with a heart and my initials in the center.

Thank you, Angel. That did mean a lot to me. I will treasure this card from Mom for the rest of my life.

Angel, Tim and Katie came over on the 8th and brought a delicious chocolate birthday cake with strawberry icing. Katie was playing on the couch and fell. She smacked her lip on the edge of the coffee table. I felt horrible that she got hurt. She’s a tough little bugger, though. She barely cried and the ice Angel put on it helped to keep it from swelling and bruising too much.

November was pretty quiet the whole month, but not without mention.

On the 18th, Gail, the nurse at the day care called me to the side. She wanted to let me know that Mom’s perception of things is getting much worse. I knew it was, BUT, the way Gail showed me was a true eye-opener as to how much worse. An artist from the local art center visits the day care on Tuesdays and works with the clients. This art project was to draw an owl as they saw it from the picture the artist had displayed. Gail showed me the pictures of the owls all lined up on the counter. They were actually very good drawings. Then, she asked if I’d like to see Mom’s and she handed it to me. “Wow” was all I could muster before the tears started flowing. Mom’s drawing of the owl was a few circles for eyes with scribbles all around them, but in her mind, it probably looked just the the artist's picture.

I knew there had been a drastic change in Mom’s perception and understanding, that's normal with Alzheimer's, but seeing the pictures of the owls and the difference between her drawing and the other drawings truly made me realize how drastic the change was.

It made me realize I need to at least consider placement as an option, possibly before she becomes too weak and while she is still sociably aware, to help her adjust to a different environment. I even went as far as to visit a few ALFs beside the one I’ve used for respite care.

I nearly had my mind made up to make the change the weekend before Thanksgiving when Mom’s knee began to bother her and she couldn’t put weight on it. But I couldn’t bring myself to do anything so close to the holidays. She's back to using her walker.

We’ll see how things are after the holidays—or maybe we’ll see what this winter brings. I don’t know. I just know there are times when I don’t feel like I can do this anymore. Watching her decline is killing me, but I can’t bring myself to take her out of her own home. She may not remember it as such anymore, but my gut tells me that me being here with her is the only thing that she hangs onto. Maybe the same goes for me.

A Long Time Coming—August, September, October Update

2008-10-31T22:30:00.007-05:00

I’ve had these writings in draft for quite some time, so they are a long time coming. Sorry I didn’t post them sooner.

I’m having a really difficult time finding the words to catch up and I’ve been in sort of a funk lately. So, I’m going to jam the last few months in as quickly and shortly as possible. Yeah right! When were any of my posts quick and short? LOL I’ve at least kept in touch and let you all know I’m still around by commenting on your blogs. I really do keep all of you in my thoughts and prayers each day even though I may not be around much to mention it.

AUGUST
Here it goes. Stacey and her family left on August 1st to go back home to Alabama. Her birthday was the 3rd and I’m glad I called to wish her a Happy Birthday. That’s all I’ll say about that.

The first week of August, we struck a deal with a different logging company to use our log landing, as long as they cut in a driveway for our soon-to-be new neighbors who bought the property that connects to Mom’s.

That first week was also the week we decided to let Ricky’s cage door open and let him roam in and out. If he were to go back to the woods, then that’s what is supposed to be. We nursed him to health and he was strong enough to be on his own.

Each evening we’d sit by the fire pit outside and call for him. Within a few minutes he crawled out from the bushes and crawled up Two’s leg. He’d play with our dog and run back and forth on the swing between us, jump down and scurry off.

These were the last pictures of Ricky taken on August 7th.

He climbed up Two’s leg, hugged his little white friend, climbed on my shoulder and gave me a kiss, then climbed on top of the swing.

The next night he didn’t come when we called. Looking at the pictures now, I think he was saying goodbye to us.

At the end of that week, Stacey called and said she’d been to the hospital. She had a lump on her throat. It seemed to appear over night and was the size of a plum. They immediately suspected thyroid cancer and told her to see her regular doctor and have tests scheduled. It was another week before any tests were done. The next week was hell on everyone waiting for the results. They were inconclusive and the doctor recommended she see a specialist and have more thyroid tests done. Three weeks later and still no answer and the specialist couldn’t see her until January 09. Stacey said she would call the specialist every day until she got an appointment sooner. Finally they set an appointment for the first week of October.

It’s probably a good thing I gave in and took Mom to the ALF the last few days of July. I had to call them and ask if she could stay the whole month of August. I’d gone back to my doctor the last day of July because I felt much worse. He prescribed a stronger antibiotic, inhalers to puff on six times a day, and I was ordered to bed rest.

I spent most of the month of August in bed sick, in and out of sleep, or on the couch doing the same. Finally by the 25th, I was able to breath, without my chest feeling like a Mac truck was sitting on it, my doctor cleared me from bed rest and said I was lucky. When I asked if I could take a short two-hour trip on Labor Day weekend, he said I could as long as I didn’t overexert myself.

Thank you to all who called to check on me. That was so very thoughtful of you.

I had four more days before the weekend and I planned to stay rested so Two and I could go to the last Powwow we planned to attend this year. It was in Columbus, Ohio. We left Friday the 29th. He danced his heart out. I watched mostly; dancing only a few dances. We’d planned to come home Tuesday, September 2nd but I started feeling lousy and we came home on Sunday the 31st instead.

SEPTEMBER
Monday, September 1st I took my time cleaning up a bit around Mom’s and my house so everything was fresh and clean when I picked her up from the ALF on the 2nd. Monday when I swept the leaves off the porch, Mom’s cat was sick. He was coughing and lying in the sun on the gravel along the side of the driveway. I made an appointment with the vet. They weren’t able to see him until Friday.

I picked up Mom from the ALF on the 2nd. She was so very pleased to see me and happy that she was coming home. I took her dog to the groomer before I picked her up and we picked him up before I took her home. She was excited to see him, too.

Mom went back to day care on the 3rd and I picked her up early to take her for her doctor’s appointment. Her doctor told me I’m doing a wonderful job with Mom and was glad to see I’d taken a month off from care giving. I told him I didn’t have a choice—I had pneumonia. He suggested I take a week each month from now on and then asked if I was considering placing her. “You’ve done wonderful, Joanne, but it sounds like it’s time you take care of yourself.” I told him I’d let him know if I get to that point. He nodded and said, “Please take care of yourself as well as you do your Mom.” I said I would try.

On the 4th, we found Mom’s cat, Tig, dead alongside the driveway; his favorite spot for sunning himself. Two buried Tig before Mom came home from day care and she never noticed he wasn’t around.

September 7th Two’s Kawasaki Mule broke down. The front dry shaft broke. On the 10th, the Kawasaki shop picked it up for repair.

Finally, September 11th the doctor took a biopsy of Stacey’s lump. He said the results would take 7-14 days. Good grief! It took five weeks just to get a biopsy! Now waiting another two weeks before any results. So much for catching things and getting something done QUICK!

September 12th I took my dog to the vet. She started limping a few days before and her limp was worse. An x-ray showed a small fracture in her shoulder. While I was waiting for the vet to put a full leg splint on her, Tim, Angel’s husband called me. I knew immediately something was wrong. Angel was at the emergency room with chest pain. The next words I heard were “possible heart attack.” The vet came in and saw me crying. My sweet little dog was all wrapped up and ready to go and he handed her to me.

So, after writing a check for $200+, I took her home and dropped her off with Two and headed to the ER to see Angel. On the way to the hospital, nothing I’d been through the last few months mattered; my daughters were having health problems now. I pulled off the road, cried, and prayed, “I don’t know what you have in store for me, and I don’t care, please just let Angel and Stacey be okay.”

I sat with Angel at the ER for a little over an hour. The cardiologist came in and explained that her heart was fine. I don’t recall what the name of the problem was, but it had something to do with her chest wall muscles. I’m so happy her heart is okay. It was a real scare for us since her paternal grandfather died from a heart attack and her father has had several heart attacks and by-pass surgeries. Angel was released that afternoon.

On the way home I thanked the Creator for a good prognosis for Angel and prayed Stacey would hear good news as well...SOON. With all that had happened from July until now, I couldn’t help but allow the question to run through my mind, “What next?”

I got that answer on the 14th. Just seconds before the Steelers kick off at 8:00 PM, the power went out from the high winds we were having. Thank goodness Mom had already been sleeping for a few hours. She had no idea the power went out. For fear that I wouldn’t hear her, since the monitor wasn’t working, I went downstairs and tried to sleep on the couch. If you saw my Mom’s couch, you’d know why I didn’t sleep a wink that night. It’s a 70’s (maybe even a 60’s) couch. It’s hard and itchy, with a rough rug-looking print, and uncomfortable as sitting on a wood step with gravel on it. But it’s in perfect condition. LOL

On the 15th, I took Mom to day care. They did have power; one of the few scattered places in the area that did. I called the ALF and asked if they had a bed for Mom. They did and I told them I would bring her in after day care the next day if the power didn’t come back on. Mom faired fine Monday evening at home. I was on the couch again. Tuesday I took her to the ALF after day care and promised I would bring her home as soon as the power was on. I didn’t feel comfortable keeping her home since there was no water, light, and no way to cook. It’s one thing for me to walk around in the dark, snack on whatever might be available, and rough it for a few days, but Mom needed to be where she would be safe—physically and medically. The power came on at my house late Wednesday afternoon. When I went to Mom’s to check it, the power was still off. That didn’t make sense to me since my power lines came from the pole by her house. I called the power company, but with all the outages in the area, I received only a recording. Thursday, I finally got through and they said they’d have someone out by Saturday. I went to see Mom and told her she would most likely be there until Saturday. She was fine with that and went back to playing cards with the ladies.

On Saturday the power company came and said there was electric to the pole but there was still no power to the house. After they checked further, they found the line had been loose on the side of the house. Once they shored the line, we had power. I picked Mom up and brought her home. Good thing was that Mom was safe and our power was back on. Bad thing was we lost everything in all our freezers.

September 27th, Mom and I went to visit my Uncle Joe at the nursing home. It was his 83rd birthday. He loved his new shirts and pants we bought him. I served everyone on his floor a piece of the sheet cake I took in for his birthday.

The 28th was Two’s birthday. I baked him a cake. Trish, Gabe, Evan, Bob, Cecilia, and Landon came to visit him. Trish and Bob are two of Two’s six kids and Evan and Landon are two of his eleven grandchildren. It was good seeing all of them again.

OCTOBER
October started with about the same trend of the last few months. On the 1st, the riding mower broke down just as Two made the first pass of Mom’s yard. I called the mower service and they picked it up that afternoon. After they left, I sat and had a very long, hard cry, again. It seemed everything was falling apart; me, my daughters, the mule, the mower, the power—one thing after another. I wouldn’t let my mind entertain the question, “what’s next?” Instead, I said, “That’s enough. I give up. I’m tired and I just don’t care what’s next.”

I think the “I don’t care” attitude must have changed things a bit. On October 2nd, Stacey called and said the biopsy was negative and she would have to have it checked periodically to make sure it stays that way. I was so happy that she finally received results and it was good news. Both my daughters are going to be okay. On the 3rd, both the mule and the mower were fixed and delivered back home.

Angel, Tim, Katie, Two and I took Mom out to lunch on the 5th to celebrate her 85th birthday, which would be on the 6th.

The rest of October was pretty quiet. We went to see Uncle Joe a few more times and Mom dressed up as a cook for the Halloween party at day care.

All in all, October wasn’t too bad.

Some Fun, Some Not So Fun, Some Sad--July Update

2008-10-11T20:39:00.014-05:00

July began with me not feeling well. I was aching from head to toe. There was no cold or sneezing, just a deep congested cough coming straight from my chest. I knew immediately the weather in June made a home in my lungs with bronchitis. An appointment with my doctor and a chest x-ray on the 15th confirmed it. I was put on antibiotics for two weeks.

My daughter, Stacey, and her family came up from Alabama for a visit on the 24th. They visited with us all day on the 25th while Mom was at club. Two Feather was cleaning up the branches from the big oak that was left lay by the loggers in the lower yard.

Stacey’s husband, Dennis, was throwing the small branches onto the wagon and Stacey drove the Mule behind the house where we threw the branches and brush over the hill in a large gully.

Trinity and Quenton helped throw branches, too. Tux, Stacey's dog, had to get in the action, too. They were having fun helping Pap Pap and Bammaw clean up GG’s (great grandma’s) yard.

On the 26th, Stacey, Dennis, Trinity, and Quenton came over and spent the entire day visiting with Mom and on the 27th they came back again with Angel, Tim and Katie and visited most of the day.

I managed to get everyone in the picture. Of course, there are two people missing in the picture; I was taking the picture and Two Feather ran up to our house to bring Ricky the raccoon down to meet the family.

Angel and Katie met Ricky in June. This is a picture of them.

The kids loved petting him.

Mom thought he was adorable and held him on her lap for a while. Her eyes lit up when he crawled onto her shoulder and squeaked.

She thought it was great that we nursed him back to health and that he was so small, cute, and cuddly. She just loved him.

I snapped of shot of Angel and Stacey playing ring-around-the-rosy with Katie, Trinity, and Quenton. Shortly after, the girls announced they were leaving because they knew Mom was getting tired. They planned to go out for dinner and left so I could get Mom something to eat and keep her on her schedule. It’s times like this that I miss being able to get up and go and spend more time with my kids and grandkids, but I’m very thankful that they recognize the signs of Mom growing tired and understand the need to keep her on her schedule. Mom is only able to take so much out-of-routine and more-than-normal crowd around her for so long. You caregivers know what I mean; anything and anyone out of the ordinary seems to mentally fatigue our loved ones that much more.

Monday the 28th I took Mom to day care and I went to my doctor because my bronchitis wasn’t much better. He gave me another seven-day prescription and insisted that I take care of myself for a change. I wasn’t getting the rest I needed for the antibiotics to work properly. It was either place Mom in the ALF or I would end up in the hospital and have to place her anyway. I called the ALF to take her in the next morning. After I dropped her off, I went to my house and slept and rested the rest of that day and all of the next.

Angel and Stacey wanted to go to the local amusement park, Kennywood, on the 30th. Angel, Tim, and Katie were meeting us there after work. I told them Two Feather and I would go along and watch the grandkids while my daughters and their husbands rode rides that the munchkins were too small for. After all, I’d only be walking around and the temperature was in the high 80’s so what harm could it do?

Two and I took the kids to Kiddieland to ride the kid’s rides. Trinity, Quenton, and Katie had so much fun riding the rides. I rode a few of the rides with them.

While Angel, Tim, Stacey, and Dennis rode the roller coasters, Two and I bought the kids drinks and a funnel cake with powdered sugar on it. Between sharing the funnel cake and talking with our grandchildren, we kept them occupied until my daughters were off the rides.

I thought it was cute that Angel kept calling me from the cell phone asking if we and the kids were okay and letting me know where they were in line and how long it would be before they came back.

The day was beautiful. I even road a few of the rides, too. I rode on the King Kahuna, which swings up in the air and upside down. There was a harness that came down over the shoulders and locked in position and it had handgrips to hold onto. It wasn’t too bad.

I love amusement parks! I love roller coasters and thrilling rides, but I can’t go on those type rides anymore since I have a plate in my neck. I’ve never been afraid to go on any ride…ever.

The last ride of the day, before we left, was the Phantom’s Revenge. I’m thankful Angel had gone on it prior to her convincing me to go on one last ride. She said I’d love it and she went on it with me. She hadn’t bothered to tell me there was no harness or handgrips. It was a long panel of seats in a row—something like movie theater seats. The only difference was it had a skimpy seatbelt and it swung high up in the air. Not too bad, I thought as it started swinging. Then, Angel said, “It’s not over yet!” When I asked, “What do you mean?” She giggled and said, “You’ll see.”

The ride swung higher and higher, and my heart felt like it was in my throat when the next swoop took us so high that we were facing the cement beneath us. I couldn’t wait for the ride to be over! Never in all my years of riding amusement park rides has there ever been a ride I wouldn’t go on again. There is now! I won’t even repeat what came out of my mouth as my heart jumped in my throat with each swing. When I walked up to Two after I got off the ride, I said, “That was terrifying! There was nothing to hold on to. Never again!”

Angel asked someone take a picture of all of us before we left the park. I'll have to get that picture from her.

It felt good to get home, take a hot shower, and cuddle up on the couch. I was tired from walking all day, but we had a wonderful time.

On the 31st I asked everyone to meet us at a Mexican restaurant for dinner. I wanted to take them all out to dinner to celebrate Angel and Tim’s wedding anniversary (which was on the 29th)
and Stacey’s birthday (which would be on August 3rd). Stacey was leaving on Friday morning and I wanted to be able to spend time with everyone before she left.

All in all, July wasn’t too, too bad. My bleeding ulcer is being treated with two medications. The abnormality in my blood was diagnosed and I had another small surgery at the beginning of the month. There are a few other things I need to take care of that I wouldn’t mind telling my friends about, but I really don’t feel comfortable putting it out here for nosey eyes to read. Let’s just say, things are going as well as can be expected and I will persevere!

On another note, a dear friend of ours passed away, another friend’s daughter had a gorgeous baby girl, our loving cat, Coffee, died this month, and the logging was completed on July 7th.

Be back as soon as possible with the next update. I’ll try to cram August and September into one post so I can get back to regular posting. Keeping all of you in my prayers.

When It Rains, It Pours--June

2008-10-03T21:43:00.003-05:00

The month of June did exactly that – poured.

June was a busy month all the way around. Two and I talked about going to a few Powwows this summer and worked toward spending a few weekends together. Sort of like getting some of our life back—but not. All of you who had been and still are care giving know what I mean.

The first Powwow was at the beginning of June. It was a powwow we hadn’t attended in four years. We planned to take Mom with us, but when we called about facilities and conveniences for her, we were told there were no bathrooms close to the Powwow circle and the camping was a half-mile from the circle. While on the phone, the Powwow director asked if Two Feather could set up his Indian art since we were planning to go. After thrashing around the idea for a few days, I decided that the best place for Mom would be at the ALF for that weekend. There would be no way I could keep and eye on her, help Two with his booth, dance, and get her to the bathrooms and camper a half-mile away when she needed to go.

We enjoyed the Powwow immensely. Two was gifted highly and honored by the lead lady dancer, a Cherokee woman from Oklahoma. She gifted me as well. It was a very spiritual and relaxing weekend.

Here is a picture of Two Feather’s set up at the Powwow.

Mom did fine in the ALF and enjoyed seeing her friends there again.

The rest of June was filled with the sound of chain saws and trees falling. I decided to have a selective cut logging (14" or more in diameter) done on the property in order to put some use to the larger and older trees rather than have them die or blown down in storms. The logging started June 11. All I’ll say about the logging is to make sure “everything you expect” is in the contract.

They knew the terrain would require a bulldozer to cut in trails, but they wanted to cut corners and not bring one in. That resulted in them ripping up the yard and damaging the block foundation of the barn before they finally decided to bring in a dozer. Also in the process, one of the logging trucks ripped the cable line off the house and we had no cable or TV for nearly two weeks. (One of the reasons I hadn’t posted anything in June). Comcast cable finally got the cable repaired and didn’t charge us, but the barn damage became a two-month-long issue with the logging company owner, who would not take responsibility. One of the Amish workers who ran the bulldozer ended up paying for the damage since his boss wouldn't.

Here is a picture of just one pile of logs brought in before it was loaded on the logging trucks.

I wouldn’t recommend the logging company I hired. In fact, I won’t even mention the name, but I would recommend Detweiler’s Wood Products of Kennerdell, PA. Mervin Detweiler IS a man of his word.

During the time of the logging, Two and I were traveling back and forth from our house to Mom’s on his Kawasaki Mule while she was at day care. One early morning on the way to Mom’s we saw a small animal move its way slowly across our path. I got off the Mule and walked to the edge of the path and found a fairly young, weak baby raccoon. He couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old, if that. He was very skinny and clumsy. Either he had fallen or had been pushed out of the nest by the mother. We picked him up and took him up to our house to see what we could do for him.

This is what he looked like when we took him home before he was cleaned up.

After a quick exam of the scrawny little masked creature, we found he had ticks in his ears and between his toes. We put Bag Balm on all the ticks and within a few hours they had backed out and died. I gave him a warm bath and wrapped him in an old towel to keep him warm and Two Feather named him Ricky. We figured we’d try to nurse him back to health and give him a fighting chance.

This is Ricky after he was all cleaned up. He's cleaning himself and our dog is curious about this new little furry creature in our kitchen.

We had an old wire dog-training cage in our garage and put an old blanket in it for him to sleep on. He had to be to force fed with a dropper because he was so weak. Two Feather and I were planning for our second Powwow the following weekend, so we had to somehow get Ricky on solid food before we left. We had six days to accomplish that.

The morning after we found him we thought we might lose him. He was lethargic and barely breathing. We took him out of the cage, wrapped him in a warm towel and continued to dribble milk in his mouth every 20 minutes. By afternoon he was much better. He was up stumbling around the house and curious about our little white Maltese. By the end of the second day we had him drinking milk from a baby bottle, he was more stable and running around the house playing with our dog.

Nose to nose.

Every time we called his name, he’d make the cutest squeaking or chirping sound. By the fourth day he was gaining some weight, getting frisky with our dog, giving me kisses on the cheek when I asked for a kiss, squeaking when he wanted fed, and came running when he heard his name. Ricky would crawl up Two Feather’s pant leg and sit on his lap, or crawl up to his shoulder and sit on his shoulder. He would make the cutest chatter or chirping sound.

Two days were left before it was time for us to go to our second Powwow. Ricky was still drinking out of the bottle but wouldn’t drink out of a bowl. We couldn’t leave milk in a bowl to spoil over the weekend anyway, so we had to get him on solid food.

The day before we left he finally drank out of a bowl. I decided to get some soft canned cat food to put in the bowl for the weekend and hope he ate. If he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t have been any worse off than when we found him. He turned his nose up at the cat food and squealed for his bottle. We fed him one last bottle before we left for the weekend.

The second Powwow we attended was in Farmington, Pennsylvania. The Powwow this year was in honor of the celebration of the birthday of the two-year-old white buffalo born at the Woodland Zoo. We camped at the edge of the Powwow grounds in direct view of the white buffalo. The zoo named the buffalo Miracle and its color has not changed to brown; by Indian belief, if a buffalo is born white and stays white, it is the sacred buffalo that will bring all races of man together.

At both Powwows the Longest Walk II participants were there. It was good to support them in their efforts of keeping Native American traditions alive and raise the awareness of Indian culture.

It was a very special weekend. Two Feather and I enjoyed the Powwow, dancing, watching the buffalo, and we met some very special people that weekend.

When we returned home, we were greeted with little squeals from Ricky when he heard his name. Nearly all the cat food was gone. He had done just fine! He climbed up the side of the cage by the door and squealed until we let him out. Once he was out the door, he climbed up Two Feather’s pant leg and chest and sat on his shoulder chattering.

During the logging and the Powwows, June was full of rain. It seemed the puddles didn’t get a chance to dry before more rain came to make more puddles and mud. The dampness and chill played havoc with my body. That brings us to July.

I’ll be back very soon with another update.

It's Been A Long Three Months -- Catching Up -- May

2008-09-11T22:06:00.012-05:00

It’s been a long three months!!! A lot has happened since I last posted. I apologize for the worry I had caused all of you dear friends and faithful readers. Had I felt well enough to post before now, I would have.

Let me first thank all of you for your concern, e-mails, notes and phone calls. You are all amazing people and it does a heart good to know there are so many wonderful caring people out there. Thank you!!!!

I suppose I need to bring everyone up to date. I’ll do that with several smaller posts rather than ramble on for pages since it’s been so long since I updated.

Let me start by telling you what took place in the last few weeks of May after I posted last. Believe me, this alone will be long enough for now.

Two Feather did set up his Native American art at the Nationality Day Festival between May 16-18th. Our friends, Ed and Ellen Strano, of Strano Remodeling offered Two Feather half of their store front in town so Two Feather could set up inside.

I scheduled a stay at the ALF for Mom between May 15th and the 26th so Two and I could work together at the festival and go to the Memorial Day Weekend Powwow in Columbus, Ohio the following weekend.

The turn out for Nationality Days was great! The Beaver County Times featured Two Feather in the Saturday morning paper and even more people showed up to see his art after that.

He sold his Indian art and I sat outside the storefront and did Indian face painting on faces of children and adults. During the three days, I painted more than 150 faces and Two Feather did well selling his art and talking to visitors about Indian lore.

Angel, Tim, Katie and Tim’s parents came to the festival on Sunday so Two and I could give Katie her birthday present. Katie’s birthday was on Friday the 16th. She turned two! Since we were set up at the festival from morning until late evening, they all came to see us on Sunday.

Katie loved her birthday present and loved getting her face painted. Believe it or not, out of all the faces I painted during the weekend, Katie was the only one who sat completely still as I painted. I painted a butterfly on her face. Butterfly is the Indian name Two Feather gave her.

The Nationality Days weekend was wonderful!

Between May 19th and 22nd we packed the camper and got everything ready for our Memorial Day Weekend Powwow in Columbus, Ohio.
Just before we were ready to leave on Friday, my neighbor called and informed us that her brother had passed away. You’ve heard me speak of him before. He was the son of the 102-year-old neighbor who passed away in January. We’ll miss seeing Billy standing by the driveway waving to us as we drive by.

Two and I had a great time at the Memorial Day Powwow. Angel, Tim, and Katie came down to Columbus and camped by us and stayed the weekend.

All of them came into the dance circle and danced with us too.

Two Feather’s daughter’s Nikki and Tricia and her husband, Gabe and their son, Evan (Fast Deer), came down for a day. It was nice having three of our eight kids there with us.

That brings us to the end of May. I had full intentions of posting right after Memorial Day weekend, but I didn’t seem to find the time to get online. Then, June was loaded with things. Some good. Some not so good. Some fun. Some not so fun. Some bad. I’ll get to all that in my next post.

In the meantime, please know that I appreciate each and every one of you and I’ll try to do better at updating if I’m not posting as regularly as I used to. No matter what goes on from this point on, I’ll at least post and “I’m still around” comment or have someone do it for me. Love you all!!

Checking In

2008-05-21T22:20:00.000-05:00

First, I’d like to thank everyone for the comments, concern, e-mails, and notes sent during the past month or so. I really do appreciate each and every one of you. Mom is fine and I’m doing okay. I didn’t mean to worry anyone. A lot has happened since my post on April 18. I’m gathering all the information and stories and I plan to have a chronological update for you soon after the Memorial Day weekend.
In the meantime, please know that I think of all of you often and I should be back to posting regularly and trying to catch up on your blogs in another few weeks. Love you all!!!!

Respite: Sort of Like Spring—A Breath of Fresh Air

2008-04-18T18:43:00.005-05:00

Sorry to keep you all wondering and worrying. I'm back.

Spring has sprung. The daffodils are blooming and being forced to take a break from care giving was like a slap in the face but turned out to be a breath of the spring’s fresh air.

Mom’s doctor has been telling me for two years to take some respite time. “You’re doing a fine job of caring for your mom, but you need to take care of yourself,” he said. My answer was, “I take her to day care.” Being one of the better-known doctors in the Alzheimer’s and geriatric field in this area and knowing I’ve been living with and caring for Mom for more than three years he said, “That’s not enough. You NEED to take a few weeks every three or four months to recoup your strength and get some needed rest from sleep loss and stress.”

That is “the” one thing every caregiver tells another and we all nod our heads and continue to go on one day at a time, putting off our needs, burning the candle at both ends, and hoping for a better tomorrow.

I, like many of you, took/take much better care of our loved ones than we did/do ourselves. When energy levels became low, we pushed forward knowing that in another one or two hours we might be able to prop our feet up for an hour or so before the next need arises. Probably like many of you, I always take my showers when I hear Mom snoring the loudest. I know then she is in a deep sleep and I can rush through my shower and get dressed before she might awake or I’ll take clean clothes to my house and shower there while she is at day care. Never can I take a shower when she is awake for fear that she will get into something and get hurt or possibly fall. We all know that caring for a loved one with Alzheimer’s is more difficult than caring for a child. An elderly person who has been independent their entire life is much more difficult to handle than a toddler—our loved ones are bigger, stronger, more demanding, and vocal than a toddler. Let’s face it, it’s easier to tell a toddler they shouldn’t do something that may hurt them than it is to tell an 84-year-old they shouldn’t do something they’ve done for longer than we’ve been alive. Switching roles of child to parent is no easy task. We sleep with one eye open for wandering shadows and ears tuned for sounds of breathing. There is no body replenishing sleep for a caregiver and all too often the adrenalin runs out, nutrition is poor, health problems arise and the caregiver dies before the person they are caring for.

When my tests results came back, I wasn’t surprised—at least with most of them. My rheumatoid arthritis is worse and my fibromyalgia is grandstanding the arthritis. No surprise there. Cholesterol levels that my doctor had been amazed were always fit for a twenty year old suddenly changed to worse than Mom’s. Blood pressure that was normally always on the safe low side is now what is considered normal for others, but high for me. My nutrition level is…well…almost nonexistent. I have a ganglion cyst on my wrist and my knee. The quarter of a stomach I was left with 35 years ago after surviving stomach cancer has turned into an ulcer, and I’m anemic. There was something wrong in one of my blood tests, don’t ask me which one because I don’t know, but as a result I’ve been to visit my dear old oncology doctor who took care of me 35 years ago. I was given only six months to live back then. He also treated me three years ago when I had a blood abnormality. That was a few months after I moved in with Mom and the abnormality ended up being a tumor the size of a grapefruit and me having surgery to have it removed along with my ovaries. I drove to the hospital and Mom and Two Feather sat in the waiting room until it was over. After recovery, we waited a few more hours until I wasn’t in a fog and I drove home to continue taking care of Mom.

The good old doc was as shocked to see me then, as I was to see him. He looked as old as dirt when I was 20—funny how he looks exactly the same all these years later. LOL All joking aside though, he’s still testing my blood and trying to figure out what the abnormality is this time.

Needless to say, after all the test results, my doctor told me I needed to take a break from caring. He told me to take a month. I took almost two weeks. Even though I’d talked with Mom about it and finally got her to understand I needed a break and she was okay with it, the day I took her to the assisted living facility she was livid with me. She refused to speak to me, hug me or say goodbye. I knew that was going to happen and I’m glad I’d prepared myself for it.

I admit I was exhausted. I knew that before I set up the respite care. I just didn’t realize how exhausted I was until I woke up some 36 hours after I sprawled across my own bed at my house.

I kept telling myself before I took Mom that I could sleep without having to listen to the monitor, sleep without having to get up every few hours, sleep without having to get up early to take her to day care, sleep without having to watch the clock to make sure I picked her up on time—I could sleep without having to worry about Mom because I knew she was in good hands. My little talk with myself worked like a charm and I woke up feeling refreshed for the first time in three years.

All week I enjoyed the comforts of my own home and enjoyed the company of Two Feather. We’d wondered how different we would act being in the same house 24/7 again after three years of being separated. To be honest, we were concerned that we might not know each other anymore. It was a great relief to know that though we knew it was only for a short time we’d be together we fell right back into the pattern we used to have. It felt odd to go shopping at Wal-Mart after dark. Heck, it felt strange to be anywhere after 5:00 in the evening.

We didn’t do anything special or go on a vacation of any kind because I was too exhausted to drive any long distance. The time we spent together and the relaxation I enjoyed sitting on my couch watching the evening news together and sitting on our deck talking over morning coffee was worth its weight in gold.

We enjoyed a few hours at a Maple Syrup Festival at a local park with my daughter Angel, Tim, and Katie and we went out to dinner with them on another night. It felt strange, but wonderful, to have that freedom to just walk out the door spontaneously and do something—anything different.

I was told not to visit Mom while she was there because it would confuse her, she’d cry and beg me to come home, and it would defeat the purpose of the respite care. I did call to make sure she was doing okay and I talked to her mid-week to let her know I hadn’t abandoned her.

I called my brother to let him know I had placed Mom in an ALF so I could get some respite time. That turned out to be an argument with him thinking I should have consulted him first. When I asked why I should consult him he said, “maybe we could have worked something out. I could bring her up for dinner or take her for a weekend.”

I told him that a few hours for dinner wasn’t going to help me at this point, and neither would a weekend. Then he said he was shocked and I asked why. “Because you said you were never going to put her in a place ‘like that’,” he said. I told him the place was very nice and he shouldn’t be shocked that I’m finally taking a break after three years. He reminded me that all I had to do was ask and he’d try to work something out, so I asked him to take her for a weekend in May, from Thursday evening to Monday morning, because Two Feather was asked to set up his Native American art stand at the popular Nationality Days in our area. He said he’d let me know after he checked with his wife.

Angel visited Mom several times and reassured her I’d be there to pick her up last Sunday. My brother visited her several times as well.

Saturday was a beautiful day but a sad one as well. It was the last full day and night Two Feather and I would spend together and we both had a difficult time holding back our emotions. We agreed that the respite time was good for me and I did get somewhat refreshed and it was good for us to spend quality time together without having to stop what we were doing to take care of Mom. We also agreed that I needed to listen to Mom’s and my doctor and continue to take periodic respite in order to reenergize myself and get a small part of our life back.

After a week, I called my brother to ask if he had talked to his wife about the weekend I’d asked for and he said he could do it Thursday through Saturday, but not Sunday and he asked if he could take Mom to day care on Thursday and Friday. I told him that he was only going to have her Thursday after day care and he could take her to day care if he used his wife’s car, but since he couldn’t do it through Monday morning to forget it. Then he argued with me about the dates of the festival and repeated that he couldn’t do it Sunday. Geesh!!! That turned into another problem. Two Feather said to tell my brother to cancel his plans on Sunday. After all, Two has cancelled his life for the past three years. Well, needless to say that didn’t go over well with my brother and we ended up in another tiff. He said he didn’t ask Two to do anything and I’m the one who chose to take care of Mom. I said, “You’re right. Two does everything Mom’s sons should be doing at Mom’s and he helps me because that’s the kind of man he is, and I chose to take the responsibility of taking caring of Mom so I’d take the responsibility for that weekend too. I told him to forget about the weekend. Then he said he had to talk to a few other people and see if he could do it Sunday and he’d call me Monday or Tuesday. At that point, I said, “I don’t know what your plans are and I don’t care, but if you can’t make a decision about helping with Mom without asking someone else, just forget it!”

Granted my emotions were running high because it was the last day I would spend at home, but I either have a commitment for help or I don’t. I’m not going to change what plans I’d like to make to fit everyone else’s schedule.

When I picked Mom up on Sunday she was happy to see me. She had the biggest smile on her face and held her arms out to give me a hug. She helped me fold and pack her clothes and within 30 minutes we were heading out the door back to her house.

Once we were home, she didn’t recognize her house at all and asked how long she would be staying here. Not that she really knows the house is hers anymore anyway, it was just sad that she asked how long she’d be there. She told me all about the nice ladies she met and what a great time she had. One day they went to the local mall for Senior Day and another day they went to the local high school to see the play Annie. She fit right in once she was there for a few days.

Monday, my brother called me and told me he worked it out so he could keep Mom on Sunday, too. I hate to say it, but that led to the biggest argument we’ve had. We were on the phone for nearly and hour and half dredging up past garbage—me explaining why I feel the way I do about a lot of things and telling him things about my life that he never knew, and him not remembering 80% of the occurrences I spoke of, and not agreeing with the other 20% of what I was talking about. The stress caused by that conversation left me feeling like I needed another week’s respite just to get over it.

Tuesday morning, I called him and called a truce. I told him I wasn’t in the best of health right now and the last thing I need is stress from arguing with him on top of the caregiver stress. The discussion/arguments we’ve had were worth it. I was honest and open about everything whether he believed me or agreed with me or not. We’ve finally agreed that we have nothing in common, except Mom and we don’t get along. All I asked from him was to speak to me decently and quit using a sarcastic and combative attitude toward me about everything. When it comes to me, I know my brother always thinks the worst. I’ll never know why, but it’s nice to know that he was pleasantly surprised that his sister has a better head on her shoulders than he thought. He actually complimented me on the ALF I picked for Mom.

All in all, the respite was wonderful and it may have actually been the straw that broke the camels back with these petty fights he and I have been having. At least I hope so.

As for those who are still in the midst of care giving, please don’t be as stubborn and procrastinating as I was about making arrangements for your loved one to stay in an ALF for a week or two to obtain some respite care for yourself. You’re the only one who can take care of yourself. Respite is like a breath of fresh air! Please don’t just nod your head when someone says to take care of yourself and wait until your health begins to fail before you take that break. If you die before your loved one, who will step into your shoes?

Spring! Snow? Happy Easter!

2008-03-23T11:21:00.001-05:00

Hello, my friends. Didn’t mean to worry everyone. Just been very busy taking care of a few things around both houses. The last three Fridays we had fish dinners from our local fire hall. Two Feather sat with Mom while I went and picked up the dinners the first two Fridays and on Good Friday Angel and Tim bought dinners for all of us and brought them to the house to eat dinner with us. Good Friday marked the tenth anniversary of my dad's death.

My doctor has put me through a battery of tests and I’m still waiting on the results from those. He’s not happy with my weight loss and it’s time for my annual tests anyway. We’ll see what comes from that. I’m not really worried. Whatever comes, comes. I’ll handle it.

I’ve been up to the nursing home to visit my Uncle Joe twice since I posted last. He had the flu but seems to be doing better now. His dementia is progressing and his lack of concentration was very evident this past week.

Mom’s appetite is getting better and she’s abandoned using her walker. She’s getting around pretty good and her legs seem to be getting stronger as long as the walking distance isn’t more than ten feet. The time change confused her for nearly a week and she’s back to getting up and down during the night. Seems lately her Alzheimer’s is taking a few steps back instead of progressing. That’s a good thing, it’s just you never know from one moment or day to the next which way it’s going. Memories are coming from nowhere at times and conversations are forgotten within minutes or seconds. I hate this disease and its back and forth, ups and downs and plateauing.

Happy Spring and Happy Easter to all who celebrate. Though I’m not sure spring has sprung with 20 degree temperatures here and another inch of snow. :( The sun has melted all the snow finally.

I’ve missed reading what’s going on with everyone. I’ll try to get caught up on my blog reading this week. Hope all are well. Have a great week everyone!

The Rash Is Gone

2008-03-11T18:48:00.004-05:00

Not much new here lately. Mom’s rash is gone. The antihistamine and the anti-itch cream must have done the job. It's been gone since Friday. The dermatologist couldn’t fit her in until this week and they said to cancel the appointment if the rash was gone by then. So I guess we’ll never know what it was. I’m just glad it’s gone and the itching is over with.

We're seeing more robins and the woodpeckers are starting their drumming on the trees. The daffodils are poking out of the ground at Mom's house. It's starting to look like spring here. My place sits in the woods and doesn't get much sun, so there's still four inches of snow on the ground and it still looks like winter up there.

Angel, Tim, and Katie visited on Sunday. Other than that, it’s been quiet around here and I don’t have much to say.

Just wanted to let everyone know we’re doing okay here.

The Water Gets Deeper

2008-03-05T18:19:00.002-05:00

My apologies in advance for the lengthy post.

The week before Mom’s dilemma was filled with sad events.

On Wednesday the 13th, my close friend’s father died. On Thursday, Angel’s husband’s grandmother died. On Friday Two Feather’s uncle died, and we were told Two’s dad would be going in for heart surgery this past Friday. All of which we should have been there to show our respect and none of which we could be there for. All this while I was dealing with Mom scratching herself raw, it snowed and iced again and I couldn’t get off Mom’s hill. So excuse me if the later part of my post shows my intolerance of unthinking people and my post is a week later due to all that’s been going on. My rant is marked, so you may skip over that and get onto the other reading without hurting your eyes.

Well…just like I thought—it was not scabies!

When I got Mom up that Friday morning, the bumps were still there and Mom was still just as itchy as she had been. The Permethrin did nothing to take either the itch or bumps away. So we know for sure it wasn’t scabies. I got Mom in the shower, washed her thoroughly, and dowsed her and myself with the cream a second time, just to be on the safe side. One treatment is supposed to treat and eliminate the itching and bumps for scabies. Two treatments couldn’t hurt. I called the day care to talk with the nurse to make sure the note from the doctor was satisfactory for Mom to return on Monday, and she said yes because Mom was treated. She apologized for the inconvenience and said they had to be precautious. I told her I understood that. They did what they had to do and so did I. All worked out well.

I was sitting in the living room talking with Mom and noticed that she was moving her legs back and forth, unaware that she was moving them. I didn’t think much about it at the moment and chalked it off to yet another strange little habit Mom picked up—like the one where she runs her tongue across her teeth and it looks like she has something in her mouth. She and I sat and talked most of the day, mostly her asking what day it was and why she wasn’t at day care. By late afternoon Mom was still scratching, only now she was telling me, “I’m itchy all over. This itching is driving me crazy.”

That Saturday morning Mom woke up at 6:00 AM and I told her it was the weekend and she could go back to sleep for a while. She snuggled back under the covers and fell back to sleep almost instantly. When I turned to glance in her room before going back upstairs, I noticed the bed shaking. I walked closer and watched for a minute thinking she was just moving to get comfortable. The motion continued as she snored. Her legs were jerking back and forth under the covers. It was the same jerking movement of her legs that I noticed Friday while we were sitting in the living room.

As I watched Mom’s legs twitch under the covers, I thought about what might be causing her itch and rash.

The pharmacy always gives me an information sheet about new drugs Mom is prescribed. I read every one of them to make sure I know what to keep an eye out for when it comes to side effects or warnings. After watching Mom’s leg twitch while she was sleeping, I ran upstairs and grabbed the information sheet on Seroquel. I remembered reading that the doctor should be called immediately for certain side effects and one was if there is any unusual or uncontrolled movements of the face, lips, mouth, tongue, arms or legs. I reread the information and immediately realized Mom’s leg twitch was new since she began taking Seroquel. I continued to read the side effects and found that symptoms of a serious allergic reaction to Seroquel may include: rash, itching, etc., etc.

I immediately picked up the phone and called the pharmacy and explained about the day care sending her home, about her itching and rash, the treatment for scabies, and that the treatment did not help. I asked if Mom’s itching and rash could be an allergic reaction to the Seroquel and they said it could and to call the doctor to have him prescribe something.

Mom was back up by 8:00 and when I took her pajamas off to get her dressed I noticed the bumps by her clavicle were more pronounced and she was scratching just as much, if not more than she had been the day before treatment.

The next call was to the doctor’s answering service. He called back within 10 minutes. He said to take her off the Seroquel immediately and he was calling in an antihistamine for the itching and that I should use the same anti-itch Sarna cream I used when she had dermatitis.

I called my brother and asked him if he could pick up the prescription for me. He did. I appreciated it, and I thanked him. In conversation he mentioned a number of things that I know his wife read on my blog and I said, “if your wife is so interested in knowing what’s going on with Mom, maybe she and you should visit rather than read my blog to get information and see how she’s doing.” He responded with, “Yes, she reads it but she’s never commented on it.” Instant defense about a rude comment on my blog that I never mentioned to him. You know what they say about people who defend themselves before defense is needed. Immediately, he followed with bashing Two Feather—the person who does all the work around Mom’s house even though he’s “not accepted into this family” according to my brother. After that, the conversation went sour. There is no talking to him. He knows it all, he’s always right, and I’m always wrong.

Now I’m sorry I bothered asking him for anything.

The only reason I continue this blog is because it is my only outlet and there is a wonderful group of people here who know what dealing with Alzheimer’s is like. That group of caring people, who don’t know me from Adam, come here nearly every day to read, comment, show support, and treat me as if I were part of their family. One of the group had even offered warmth and shelter in her home during the furnace episode and offered to sit with Mom anytime I may need a break. Thank you, Betsy. You’re like the sister I never had. I appreciate you all so much, yet, I am sad to say that I have to admit that you understand and care more about my mom and me than some of our own family members. It’s sad that you can accept me for who I am and what I say; yet people who are supposed to be that support system, do nothing but lie and put me down.

**RANT

Since they want to read. Let them read the truth!

My brother told me, “all you have to do is ask if you need anything.” Yeah right! When I asked for him to watch my mom for one day so I could get my uncle moved from his apartment and into a nursing home in April 2006, I didn’t get help. I was asked where my cousins were? Why can’t they move his stuff? Why? Because they have about as much to do with my uncle as my brother does—little to nothing.

Mom has stayed at his house twice in three years. Once in July 2006, when I asked for a weekend, and I was held up from leaving on time for the weekend because my brother didn’t pay enough attention when I showed him how to take Mom’s blood glucose test and I had to go up to his house and show him again just as we were pulling out of the driveway ready to leave. The second time was when Mom asked him to keep her for a night on November 2, 2006 because Two Feather had surgery and she felt I should be at my house with him. Three times since then, when I asked for him to take Mom for a weekend, I got told, “I can’t. I’m going away.” I quit asking. Oh yeah, that’s right, some people can take several vacations a year—every year.

Here I sit knowing that his wife has been reading my blog all this time, and she knew about the power being out, the furnace being broke, me being sick recently, and all the other things I’ve written about here—where was their phone call of concern or offer of help? There wasn’t any. Oh, that’s right, I’m supposed to ask.

Since my sister-in-law has been so “accepted into this family” as my brother says—if she’s so interested in sticking her nose in Mom’s business and mine and wanting to know what’s going on, maybe she should visit! She hasn’t been here since Easter last year. Sticking her nose here is one thing—nosing into other blog links from my site and doing a Google search on Two Feather just makes her that much more pathetic. What exactly is the purpose of either? Just to instigate more problems?

All I have to do is ask?

Taking Mom for Sunday dinner is out because when I asked them to move dinner up an hour so she can still be in bed at her normal time I was told, “Oh no, that’s too early.” God forbid I ask for a little flexibility or for someone to go out of the way just a tad to spend time with Mom.

And of course they can’t take Mom for a week because they "work for a living" and "don’t have time," yet when my sister-in-law’s mom got sick it was okay for her to stay at their house. What’s good for one mom should also be good for the other.

How about picking up Mom’s garbage at 4:30 on Wednesdays and taking it down to the bottom of the hill.

How about calling to make sure we can get off the hill when it snows six inches.

Or, how hard would it be to bring dinner a few times a week, even once a week, for both of us? It’s called “thinking” of little ways to help out. It should be really easy right now since the fish fries are taking place on Fridays for lent. All that would need done would be to pick them up and drop them off. No cooking involved.

I guess all this upsets me so much because they are not willing to bend their schedule to help out, and everything is expected at their convenience instead of working around Mom’s schedule. Why should I go out of my way when they can’t be the least bit flexible?

All I’m asking for is respect to be shown to Mom. This is about her—not me!

**END RANT

The last week of February wasn’t much better. On to more important people and things--my daughter Angel, her husband and Katie came over for nearly two hours last Sunday before they went to Tim’s grandmother’s viewing. Angel brought lunch for all of us. Thank you, honey. I really appreciate you bringing lunch and visiting at the same time.

Mom did go back to day care last Monday with no problem. She still had the rash and we set up another appointment with the doctor for Wednesday afternoon. We had another snowstorm with ice rain overnight on Monday and we stayed in on Tuesday. Tuesday night we got more snow and we stayed in again on Wednesday. I had to call to have Mom’s driveway plowed and salted so I could get her out for the doctor’s appointment. We were back to Mom being up and down all night long after four nights without meds.

The doc said the rash didn’t look like an allergic reaction to meds but to keep her off the Seroquel just in case. He referred her to a dermatologist. She’s back on a light dose of Risperdal before bed.

Thursday and Friday she went back to day care. Friday after I dropped her off I went straight home. The weather report said we were expected to get another 2-4 inches of snow starting in late afternoon. The lower half of Mom’s driveway was solid ice, so I called for someone to spread anti-skid to give us traction. Between that and the new snow expected, I figured we’d be able to get up and down.

When I did get home, Two told me there was water coming in the basement. We couldn’t figure out at first how or why since there hasn’t been any melting with the low temperatures. He was shoveling the sidewalk and called me outside because he heard running water. I walked over to the side of our deck where the sound was coming from and found water flowing out of the top of our well. I called the well-drilling outfit to have him come and check it. In the meantime the water was getting deeper and the 30-year-old retaining wall beneath our deck collapsed and is blocking our basement door.

Two’s dad went in for heart surgery Friday and we sat at home waiting to hear how the surgery went since we couldn’t make the trip to be there. The snow was coming down harder, like a whiteout, and by 3:00 we had 4 inches. Two Feather rode with me to pick up Mom early knowing the roads would be bad. As we pulled up to the day care, I received the call back from the well guy. He told me to have Two call him when he got home and he’d tell him how to shut the well off until he got there on Saturday morning.

Had Mom at home by 4:00, Two walked back up to our house, called the well guy, and had the well shut off by 4:30. Two got a call at 11:00 PM telling him his dad made it through surgery okay. That’s a big load off our minds.

Saturday morning the well was fixed and Two Feather had all the water cleaned up in the basement and the dehumidifier was starting to dry it out. He walked down to visit after.
Stacey called and we talked for a while. Since Two was here she got to talk to him too. It’s always good talking to her. I miss being able to talk to her and Angel like I used to. Saturday was also my son-in-law’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Tim! Hope you got your card and had a great birthday.

Sunday was a quiet day. The lady from church came to give Mom communion. Two visited for a while. Angel called to say she was helping Tim’s family move his grandmother’s things so she didn’t think she’d be able to visit.

Mom and I spent the afternoon talking. Two saw a robin in the front yard. Maybe that’s a sign that better things are coming. I sure hope so, cause I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.

When It Rains, It Pours

2008-02-22T21:57:00.003-05:00

This post was held in queue.

Thursday, February 21

As I said in prior postings, Mom’s doctor took her off trazodone because the increased dosage resulted in her getting one of the side effects of the drug or an allergic reaction—itching. She scratched and scratched until she scratched her skin sore, and in places broke the skin. She had a bout with dermatitis last year, so her doctor recommended I apply lotion a few times a day. I’ve been applying lotion on her entire body everyday ever since, but with this itching, I’ve been applying it more often. The few places she had scratched raw were healing nicely and she had very few spots compared to what she’d had before. The spots were on her forearms, between and just below the clavicle bone, and on the back of her hand, and a few on her cheek.

I told the day care facility more than a week ago that Mom had the itching side effect or allergic reaction from meds.. Symptoms of an allergic reaction include: rash, itching, etc. She started with an itch here and there once in a while and then it stopped until he increased the dosage. The itching came back and a rash started. That’s when her doctor took her off trazodone and put her on seroquel. The seroquel is working wonders for Mom’s sleep and mine, but the itching and slight rash is taking its good old time subsiding.

Thursday I got a call from the day care asking me to pick Mom up. Mom was scratching her hand and the nurse noticed she had a spot / bump / rash on the top of her hand and supposedly on her belly that she suspected might be scabies. I told the nurse (who was standing in for the regular nurse and was aware of Mom’s med reaction) that Mom had been itchy from a reaction to meds and she said I had to pick up Mom and have her tested for scabies. Naturally, I called Mom’s doctor and asked that he fit her into his schedule that day to have her checked. The appointment was scheduled even before I picked up Mom from day care at 11:00 in the morning.

When I arrived at the day care, I said I had an appointment at 3:15 and they were shocked I was able to get her in so quickly. They told me they called the health department and I had to have Mom get a skin test and she wasn’t allowed to return until they had proof of the skin test from the doctor. Then I asked if anyone else was sent home with this same thing, and was told “yes, one other person.” Okay, no problem. I at least knew to tell Mom’s doctor that two people were sent home due to a “rash” and to be extra cautious with a diagnosis.

From my extensive reading over the years, I did know a few things about scabies. Yes, it does show in the form of a rash; it is an infestation of the skin caused by mites; it is contagious; and it is usually spread by personal close skin-to-skin contact between people in child-care facilities, nursing homes, and by sharing the same bed or clothes. I also knew that scabies normally appears in creases of the skin, between fingers, genital areas—none of the areas where Mom’s bumps are—with the exception of the small bump on the back of her hand between the knuckles of her ring and little finger.

I had nearly four hours to waste before Mom’s appointment, so being the conscientious person I am, I took her home, and sat her in the living room. First, I went upstairs and grabbed my magnifying glass and went back downstairs. Mom probably thought I was nuts when I took off her sweatshirt and began examining her forearms with the magnifying glass. I asked her to turn her head this way and that and checked the “bumps” on her cheeks, then got in close and looked at the “spots” on her hand. After inspecting Mom from head to foot, finding nothing that looked like these pesky little mites or tunnel-looking areas on her skin, I figured I’d take precautions anyway and ripped the sheets off her bed, threw them in the washer with the hottest water setting, added detergent and Clorox and disinfected her bed. Then, I went straight to the computer to research this nasty little parasitic monster that might have found its way into my mom’s skin.

The website for the PA Department of Health states that scabies is “pimple-like irritations, burrows or rash of the skin, especially the webbing between the fingers; the skin folds on the wrist, elbow, or knee; the penis, the breast, or shoulder blades.”

Other sources also mention scabies can be found “on the sides of fingers, armpits, inner thighs and around the waist (belt line).”

According to all the websites I checked (nearly a dozen), all the information I read and pictures I found, I felt confident that whatever it is making Mom itchy and causing her to scratch—it is not scabies. None of Mom’s bumps are in any of these areas and none of her rash-like bumps looked anything like the pictures on the websites.

Off to the doctor we went anyway armed with all the information I never really wanted to know about this little parasitic infectious skin irritation.

Mom’s appointment went well. I told her doctor that the day care said they wanted a skin test and she couldn’t return until they received written documentation of the test and he cleared her to return. He looked at the small bumps on her forearms and shook his head “no”. He said, “it’s highly unlikely that she has scabies and it doesn’t form on the face.” He looked at her clavicle area and said it looked like the dermatitis she had last year. Then, he said, “I’m not going to test her for scabies. It takes longer to get the test results than it does to treat it. So I’m just going to treat her for it.”

“So we don’t know if she has it or not?” I asked.

He said, “She’s had this itching and bumps for a while. As close as you are with your mom, if she had scabies, you’d have it by now, too. You’re not showing any signs of itching or rash.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t have a mark on me, and I wasn’t itchy until we started talking about this. I already washed her bedding before I came here.”

He laughed and I did, too.

“You realize scabies doesn’t mean a person or their surroundings are dirty, right?”

I said, “Yes, I know that. It’s just the old-fashioned ideas of scabies bother me, and I’m not real thrilled with having to be treated for something I know I don’t have.”

“Yes, I understand,” he said. “Everyone acts like it’s a big epidemic and gets so alarmed by the word, but it’s really quite a common thing.” Then, he said, “It’s very evident that you take very good care of your mother, Joanne. Knowing you, and seeing the report from the social worker who went to your mom’s house when you wouldn’t place her in rehab several months ago, you wouldn’t need to worry about it anyway. They noted that you kept your mom’s house spotless.”

He added, “If it hadn’t been that you said another person was sent home with a rash, I wouldn’t treat her, but we’ll treat this as if it were scabies just to protect your mom and you. I’ll write a prescription enough for both of you. You treat yourself as well. As long as it’s treated, she’s not contagious and if the day care were open on weekends, she could return by Saturday.”

I reminded him that the day care wouldn’t allow her return without the test. Mom’s doctor is well known in our area for working with nursing home residents. He said, “When there’s one person diagnosed with scabies in our facilities we treat that person and everyone on the floor just as a precaution, including the staff. The day care can’t stop your mom from returning if she’s been treated. A person who has been treated is non-infectious to others on the day after treatment.” He added, “I’ll write a note that she’s been treated and is non-contagious. If that’s not good enough for them, you tell them call me directly.”

He wrote a prescription for Permethrin, enough for two people, and wrote a note on his prescription pad that Mom was treated for scabies, was non-contagious, and he wrote on his prescription note that the day care should alert their clients and suggested they and the day care workers in contact with Mom be treated as well.

He handed me the prescription and said, “If this is scabies, this will stop the itching in a day or so. If the itching doesn’t go away, call me and we’ll get your mom set up with a dermatologist.”

I thanked him for fitting Mom in between patients. I stopped at the day care and gave them the note from the doctor and said Mom would be back on Monday. I was told that the doctor’s note on the prescription might be a problem. They said, “We were told to tell you that she had to have the test, we have to have proof of the test, and she can’t return until then.”

I said, “Mom’s doctor said it takes less time to treat the supposed problem than it does to get the test. By Monday she’ll have been treated and non-contagious. If treatment and his note aren’t sufficient for your nurse, she can call him directly. We’ll see you Monday.”

Mom and I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up the medication and went home to dowse ourselves in Permethrin.

Oh joy! Are we having fun yet?

Hit Me Like A Brick

2008-02-19T19:26:00.004-05:00

Today I decided to get off my lazy butt and start cleaning MY house. I’ve not taken very good care of it since I moved in with Mom. Being so tired all the time, I don’t give my house the attention or the thorough cleaning I used to. I manage to swipe a feather duster around the corners of every room and all the shelves and knick-knacks every few weeks and mop the floor once a week, but it’s not the same.

I gave both bathrooms a thorough cleaning—the down-on-my-hands-and-knees-type cleaning like I used to. I scrubbed the walls and took the shower curtain down and cleaned it. The bathrooms looked so nice when I finished that I decided to move into the bedroom and start working on it. I opened every drawer of the dressers and neatly rearranged all the clothes, cleaned the dressers with Murphy’s Oil soap, and gave them a good waxing. I put clean sheets on the bed, ran the sweeper, and started the laundry.

Then, I decided to tackle the bedroom closet. When I moved to Mom’s most of my clothes moved with me, but the floor of my closet was piled with clothes I’ve been hauling back and forth. It was time to get them out of the piles and hang them or put them in drawers. It took me 30 minutes to pull all the clothes out and set them on the bed to go through and decide where I was going to put what. There were things in that closet I knew I’d never wear so I put those items in a box to take to Good Will.

I sat on the floor of my bedroom looking at the room, clean and fresh, and felt strange looking at a bed and cleaning a room I haven’t slept in for three years. That strange feeling turned to sadness as I glanced at all the wall hangings that had once been so neatly dusted and cared for. I turned my attention back to the closet as not to cry and arranged the half dozen pair of shoes on the shelf and pulled out another pile of things I had no idea what they were because I hadn’t been in the closet for so long.

Still in the bag, was an Indian blanket Two and I purchased at his reservation in North Carolina when we were there four years ago. Beneath that was a pillow heat/massager that would have come in handy the past few years had I remembered I had it.

Then, below that was what hit me like a brick! It was a treasure I’ll never forget nor one I’ll ever get rid of. My bed caddy! What’s a bed caddy and what’s so great about it you ask? A bed caddy is what you keep your book, eyeglasses, TV remote, and other essentials close at hand. It tucks easily under a mattress and hangs on the side of the bed. This bed caddy is special. I made it from a pair of my dad’s carpenter jeans.

After Dad died, I made one for Mom, both my sister-in-laws, and me. I’d taken it off my bed just before I moved to Mom’s since I wouldn’t be using it. When I pulled it out from the closet, all those strange feelings I’d had while glancing at the room boiled up inside and spilled from my eyes. I sat, on the floor of my bedroom, hugging my dad’s jeans and cried. The book I was reading when I left to live with Mom was still in the pocket with a bookmark Mom made me still holding the place. The pockets also still held my body lotion, reading light, extra pair of outdated glasses, and that darn TV remote Two Feather hasn’t been able to find for three years. I thought finding the TV remote would bring me to my senses when I chuckled, but the tears continued to flow. I held Dad’s jeans against my chest and ran down the hall to Two’s workroom, tears still streaming down my face.

“What’s wrong? What’s that?” he asked. Between sobs I managed the words, “My dad’s jeans.” The shocked look on Two’s face didn’t help stop the tears and neither did the bear hug he gave me when he realized what I was holding. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed, long and hard, whispering, “I miss you. I miss my dad. I miss my mom. I miss cleaning. I miss everything!”

I wiped the tears from my face, walked back to the bedroom, placed the TV remote on top of the TV, and put the bed caddy back in the closet. Two came in and asked why I didn’t put the caddy back on the bed and I told him I wasn’t putting it back until I could use it again.

He laughed and said, “In that case, you didn’t have to change the sheets on the bed. I haven’t slept in it since you left. I sleep on the couch.”

It was then that I realized how difficult our separation has been for him. In these three years I had no idea that Two didn’t sleep in our bed. All this time I thought he was sleeping comfortable and instead he’s been stretched out on a tiny couch in our living room. He’s always called it the “Joanne couch” because it’s only four foot long.

It’s strange how much our life has changed during this care giving journey and how little things like a bed caddy made from my dad’s carpenter pants can send me to tears. Dad died of Alzheimer’s and will be gone 10 years on the first full day of spring. There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t think of him. Losing a loved one is one of the hardest things to deal with. We caregivers tell each other it gets better, and it does eventually, but there are always those unexpected little things that take our breath away and reduce us to tears. Today, for me, it was my bed caddy and Dad’s jeans. Even after 10 years. Love you, Dad. I miss you.

Mom has been sleeping better with this low dose of Seroquel. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night she only got up twice to use the bathroom each night. YAY!! I slept pretty well on Friday night, but Saturday night I woke up five times. I think my body and mind had been so used to reacting these past three years that it doesn’t know what to do when it’s not called to duty—so it did what it was used to—woke up. It didn’t take me long to get back to sleep once I realized that there was no need to run to Mom. Sunday morning I did feel the effects of not sleeping sound, though. I felt like I was dragging.

It was a dreary day and Mom was having a difficult time deciding what she wanted to do so I decided to pack her up in the car and go visit my Uncle Joe. I normally visit him twice a month, but with everything that’s been going on lately, I hadn’t been to see him since Christmas. I called him in between, but that’s not the same as a personal visit.

He seems to be doing well at the nursing home. He still says the food is lousy but the nurses are good to him. We visited for a few hours and when Mom used the bathroom Joe said he’d follow us to the elevator when she came out. He looked tired and I guess he had had enough visit for one day.

When Mom and I got home, she wanted to eat and go to bed. I tried to keep her up until 5:30 but she was dozing off at the kitchen table after dinner. By the time I got her dressed for bed she was exhausted and fell right to sleep.

Monday was a nothing day. I did absolutely nothing. Guess I’m entitled to that once in a while. :D

New Medication Working Good So Far

2008-02-15T20:44:00.005-05:00

I kept Mom home from day care on Wednesday again because the driveway was solid ice after the storm. Had the driveway plowed and salted and by afternoon the sun had melted some of the ice.

By Thursday, we were on the road again and Mom went back to day care. When I picked Mom up I was told there was an incident at day care. Evidently, Mom was sitting with Mr. N. and one of the workers walked up to her and said, “You don’t belong here. You need to move to another table.” I was told she grabbed Mom by the shoulders and nudged her toward the other side of the room. Mom complained to the supervisor about the woman’s action and supposedly the worker was reprimanded and made to apologize to my mom. I was glad they told me about it, but I wasn’t happy with what happened. I felt more than a bit let down because I know the woman and I never expected her to act or treat Mom in this fashion. It must have bothered Mom because she remembered it and told me about it on the way home. She said she was glad the lady apologized and she was going to forget it for now. But if it ever happened again, she wasn’t going back. I picked up Mom’s new medication, Seroquel, on the way home and she took it for the first time Thursday evening. It's a low dose before bed. The doctor prescribed 25mg tablets and Mom's only suppose to take a half tablet at bedtime. She slept sound. YAY!! So did I. DOUBLE YAY!! I can’t remember the last time I had two good night’s sleep in a row, but it felt wonderful! That was a Valentine’s gift all in itself. :)

Two and I went grocery shopping on Thursday and spent the rest of the afternoon watching Saw IV. All four of these movies were good. Of course, I’m a horror and thriller fan, so naturally I’m going to say I loved them. That was our Valentine’s Day together. Watching a horror flick.

Today, when I took Mom to day care, the lady who was gruff with her on Thursday pulled up in front of the day care at the same time. She was very pleasant and held the door for Mom to walk in. She said “good morning” to Mom and Mom answered as if nothing had happened. I did say good morning and talked with her, but I didn’t bother mentioning the incident. I figured the supervisor reprimanded her and I didn’t need to make a big deal about it. I’m sure she knows me well enough that if anything like that happens again that I won’t be as courteous the next time. She probably felt lucky that I didn’t say anything this time. I can be very nasty when it comes to protecting my mom.

Today was a do nothing day. Even though I slept well the past two nights, I still feel run down so Two and I just talked all day. Mom had a good day at club and I was happy there were no reports of any kind.

Mom was extremely tired while she ate dinner. She didn’t eat much again tonight. Her appetite has diminished so much. All she wanted to do was finish eating and go to bed. By 5:30 she was snoring.

Angel, (not my daughter) an old friend called my house and Two called to tell me she called. Angel and I used to pal around together in the 80s. We kept in touch for a long time and drifted apart due to life changes. I ran into her at a local store just before I moved in with Mom. She knew Mom had Alzheimer’s but we hadn’t seen each other or talked since so she didn’t know I’d moved in with Mom three years ago. It was really good talking to her after all this time. We were best buddies back then and it didn’t take but a few minutes on the phone to realize how much we’d missed talking to each other. Anyway, if you read this, Angel, thanks for calling. It was wonderful talking to you again.

I’m signing off for now. This new medication is really working wonders so I’m going to take advantage of the fact that Mom is resting peacefully. See you all soon. Joanne does a happy dance as she signs off for the night. :D

A Whole Bunch of Rambling

2008-02-12T19:55:00.002-05:00

I haven’t blogged much lately because…quite frankly—I’m exhausted! After reading Robyn’s post about her mom getting up several times a night, I figured I’d finally talk about what I’ve been going through.

You all know about Mr. N. and how he and Mom have become such “great” friends. Well, this friendship and talking has turned to him holding her hand and kissing her on the cheek. The day care workers thought it was all cute and innocent and nothing indecent. Maybe not indecent, but still, he is a married man, Mom is vulnerable, and I told them I thought they should deter these kinds of actions because I didn’t want my mom to get hurt. I wasn’t only worried about Mom getting her feelings hurt when Mr. N. may put his attention elsewhere, but also I was worried that Mrs. N. may walk in and see this and maybe not be so understanding. I still don’t know if she knows about it.

It’s nice that Mom is enjoying the day care socially, but I spoke with the day care workers several times months ago asking them to discourage the hand holding and kissing. They all told me how Mom and Mr. N. would make plans to go out and how they thought it was so cute. Deep down I knew it was a catastrophe waiting to happen. I know my mom.

Now, another lady is paying attention to Mr. N. and Mom is not happy! For the past two months, Mom has been getting up nearly a dozen times a night talking to Mr. N. in her sleep, getting out of bed, thinking he’s in the living room, thinking this lady is here stealing him. Good grief. I’ve told the day care workers that he is on her mind constantly when she is at home and reminded them once again that they should have discouraged this type of affection between them.

The beginning of last week Mom became aggressive at day care toward the lady who is showing Mr. N. affection. Mom told her to move (in not so nice words) and when the lady argued with her, Mom told her to shut up! At the end of last week Mom became angry again when she saw this woman sitting by him. She clenched her fists and said she was going to go over there and punch the woman (also not in such nice language). The day care workers told me how she’s reacting and said something needs to be done. I said, “I’ve been telling you that for months. Oh, it wasn’t a problem until the snake came out and bit you in the face. I’ve been dealing with her up all night for a few months because of this situation. You are the one’s who thought it was so cute, so you deal with it here without being mean to my mother.”

I suggested that when Mr. N. reaches for Mom’s hand or kisses her on the cheek he be reminded that he is married, and suggested that Mom be reminded that he is married and these type things shouldn’t go on. If Mom didn't have Alzheimer's she wouldn't allow such a thing. She would be horrified if she were in her right mind and knew she was allowing a married man to show her affection. Dancing and talking is one thing, but she wouldn’t allow this. For crying out loud, my dad’s best friend who had been a widower for more than 20 years asked her out and kissed her on the cheek six years after Dad died and she told him off. Poor guy. That relationship would have been nice, but she didn’t want anything to do with it because he had been my dad’s best friend.

So…here I am, up nearly a dozen times every night with her cussing and yelling at Mr. N. and this woman because he’s cavorting with someone else. He’s still mainly interested in Mom but since the day care workers have been trying to change the situation (a little too late) Mom is becoming more and more angry.

Her anger wouldn’t change now even if they let them sit together because Mom would still carry on about the “other” woman. When something really matters to Mom, she doesn’t forget it. I told the day care workers they have to deal with it since they let it go on so long.

Angel came over on Saturday to sit with Mom from 1-4:00 so Two and I could visit a friend of his in Ohio. Nearly two hours driving and an hour visit. We were home by 3:30. It was good for Two to get out and see someone he hasn’t seen since November. The driving wasn’t much fun, but it was good for me to get out into different surroundings for a few hours. I realized how much my social skills are deteriorating. I barely talked and when I did, I stumbled over everything I said. Good grief, I need to get out and talk to people before I lose the ability to speak other than repeating myself all day long.

Sunday we had atrocious winds. The lady from church came and gave Mom communion at 1:00. When she came in the house, she said a tree had fallen over Mom’s driveway and was leaning on the power lines. The lines had been ripped off my neighbor’s house. My brother came at 1:15 and said the same thing. He parked his truck and walked up the drive because he didn’t think he could get under it with his truck. He told me I should call the power company. I said, “Of course, just one more thing for me to do because no one else does anything.” He was going into the hall to pick up the phone (which hasn’t been there for three years) and call the power company and said, “What’s the address here?” “You don’t even know your own mother’s addresss?” I asked. “Nevermind, I’ll call the power company.” He stayed until 3:15. I made Mom dinner and we chatted until 4:30. She was tired and wanted to go to bed. It was probably a good thing that she went to bed a tad earlier because the power went out at 5:00 and didn’t come back on until 7:00. Thank goodness the power came back on in such a short time. I was bored stiff for the two hours it was off trying to read a book with a flashlight. LOL Mom was up ten times during the night. This time she was whispering and telling Mr. N. she hopes he’s happy and then yelling at someone to get the hell away from her. I have no idea who she was talking to then.

Monday morning I had Mom in the car and down the driveway and had to back up all the way to the house. The power company cut the end of the tree off the power lines, tightened the lines, and called me at 1:00 in the morning to find out if our power was back on, but they left the tree on the driveway. I didn't know about the tree until I tried to leave in the morning. I called Two Feather to come down and cut up and move the tree so I could take Mom to day care. I called my brother too, figuring he should do something for a change and help Two, but he didn’t answer his phone. I didn’t bother leaving a message on his answering machine. He was home.

Mom’s medication needs changed because she’s getting the itching side effects from trazadone. The doctor took her off respiradol several months ago and I asked him if he would put her back on it but instead he said to try the trazadone. Mom's moods are worse and she's getting up at night more and more. Now, he’s going to order seroquel. They were suppose to call it in on Monday but the pharmacy said they didn’t. The office was closed by the time the pharmacy called to see what the doctor was going to order. The doctor’s office was closed today probably due to the snow, so I’ll have to call them tomorrow and find out when they will call it in.

I kept Mom home from day care today because it snowed overnight and she (and I) were up all night with her dreams, hallucinations, cussing, and wandering. She was a gem all day. She sat and colored while I went through stacks of receipts and got everything together for her taxes. Next, is getting my Uncle Joe’s paperwork ready and then I can finally get the taxes done. That will be a burden off my mind.

We got about six inches of snow today. Then it turned to freezing rain. I’m not sure what it’s doing out there now, but I can say that I’m truly looking forward to summer. Yes, I said summer. The heck with spring. Let’s just move onto the 70 and 80 degree days. I need a vacation!

Happy Birthday, Angel!

2008-02-06T21:30:00.000-05:00

I love you! Even if you are making me older by turning the BIG 30 today. :D

Daughter Without a Name, Ice Storms, & Wishing for Spring

2008-02-02T21:56:00.000-05:00

Last weekend was a bit crazy and the week that followed wasn’t much better. I posted book reviews instead of talking about the goings on here at Mom’s. Last Sunday when the lady from church was here, she and Mom were talking about family. Mom told her that she had a sister and two brothers and her two brothers were still alive and work together. Alrighty then. Truth is, Mom had one brother and he’s been deceased for more than thirty years. Sunday, I also realized that Mom does know that I’m her daughter, but she had forgotten my name. Every day when I pick her up at day care and she sees me, she says, “There’s my daughter.” Sunday, after the lady from church left, Mom and I were talking. I figured I’d do the little memory quiz that I used to do once every couple weeks. I haven’t quizzed Mom for about two months. At least once a month I would joke with her and ask if she knows who I am and she always said, "You're my daughter." Never thought to ask her if she knew my name. I asked her birthday, address, phone number, all of which she didn’t know the answer. She did remember she was born in October, just not the day and year. I asked her how many kids she has. She did say three. That’s correct.

“What are they?” I asked.
“I think I have three boys,” she said.
I giggled and said, “If you have three boys, who am I?”
“You’re my daughter,” she said.
“Okay. So you can’t have three boys if you have a daughter, Mom.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“What are your kid’s names?”
“I think they are Bob and Ray.”
“What’s my name, Mom?”
She looked at me with such shockingly sad eyes and said, “I don’t know. What is your name?”
“Joanne. My name is Joanne, Mom.”

I knew one day Mom wouldn’t know who I am and I prepared myself for it. I guess it just shocked me that she knows I’m her daughter, but has forgotten my name. I tried to think back to when and how long it’s been since she’s called out to me by name, and I pinpointed it to mid-October when Mom was up and down half the night looking for Mr. N. She would call out to me by name back then, yelling up the steps, “Joanne, are you up there?” She hasn’t called me by name since. Mostly, I’m “her daughter” when she talks about me, and when she talks to me, I’m “honey” or I’m not addressed at all before asking something or looking for me. Wow! It very well could be that she hasn’t known my name for more than three months. We've gone through a few moments at times when she wasn't sure who I am. I've already mentioned those times. Strange, but I think I accepted the fact that she would someday not know me at all more than I accepted her not remembering my name. The two just seem to go together, but I never imagined she’d remember who I am and forget my name. Then again, she can’t understand how my daughter is her granddaughter, so I don’t think I want to ask if she understands what a daughter is. LOL

After realizing Mom didn’t know my name, the whole darn following week just kept getting worse. It was all sort of depressing, actually. I did log in long enough to post a “Happy Birthday” to my dad. That was part of the depressing week. The other part was that I felt lousy. I’m not running a fever and I don’t have a cold. I just felt tired and worn out. My muscles ached more than usual and my legs and knees are killing me. Mom may have Alzheimer’s, but she can certainly pick up on my emotions no matter how hard I try to hide them. She knew I wasn’t feeling well and she kept asking me if there was anything she could do for me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that if she would sleep all night long it would make a world of difference in my longevity.

By the end of the week, I still wasn’t feeling any better. Thursday I just curled up on the couch and slept after taking Mom to day care. Two and I watched a movie and I trudged through the day as if I were a zombie. The weather report showed an ice storm coming through and we were supposed to get hit after midnight. Two and I prepared for not having the day together on Friday.

Friday morning I got up at the usual time. I went downstairs, let Mom’s dog out and he slid off the porch and onto the sidewalk. The porch and sidewalk were solid ice. I got the salt out and sprinkled it over the porch and sidewalk and tested the gravel drive with my foot. It was like an ice rink. These pictures don't show the ice as well as I would have liked. The bushes, power lines, absolutely everything was iced over. Nothing like you guys had in the northwest and central part of the states last month, but still scary on this hill just the same.

I called the day care and they said they were open but I had to tell them that Mom wouldn’t be coming in because we couldn’t get off our hill.

I’ll drive in a foot of snow on Mom’s driveway, but there is no way I’ll drive on ice. You’ve seen pictures of my Mom’s driveway. It’s steep and winding. It’s a beautiful site when the leaves are changing colors and the sun is shining through the clouds, but there’s no way to stop on ice, unless of course you want to slide over the 50+-foot embankment and crash to the bottom. Nope. Not me. When it’s ice, I stay home—and so does Mom.

The ice didn’t thaw from the porch, the sidewalk, the drive, the power lines, and the trees until 4:00 Friday afternoon. Then everything that thawed on Friday froze overnight and left an icy mess this morning, too. I think we may get out of here on Monday morning as long as it doesn’t rain and freeze again.

Am I wishing for spring? You’re darn right I am!

Back to reading and writing my book reviews.

Happy Birthday, Dad

2008-01-29T23:12:00.000-05:00

Today would have been my dad's 88th birthday. I still miss him terribly. I love you, Dad. Happy Birthday.

Blogcritic of the Day

2008-01-25T20:51:00.000-05:00

Well, I have no clue how this came about, but I just noticed I am listed as Blogcritic of the Day at BlogCritics. That was a nice surprise.

Also noticed that my recent review of An Uncertain Inheritance was picked up by LexisNexis News Publishers.

Another nice surprise.

BOOK REVIEW: An Uncertain Inheritance: Writer’s on Caring for Family edited by Nell Casey

2008-01-23T21:30:00.000-05:00

An Uncertain Inheritance: Writer’s on Caring for Family
Edited By Nell Casey
William Morrow/Harper Collins(November 13, 2007)
304 pp Hardcover
Nonfiction: Parenting/Families/Aging/Caregiving
ISBN-10: 0060875305
ISBN-13: 978-0060875305
Amazon Price: $16.47

As a writer and sole caregiver for my 84-year-old mother who has Alzheimer’s, An Uncertain Inheritance: Writer’s on Caring for Family, edited by Nell Casey piqued my interest.

Writers produced the 19 essays gathered for this book, but more importantly, these essays were written by caregivers and those being cared for themselves with a no-holds-barred brutal honesty.

Under my currant circumstances, I thought this book might bring me to tears with each story, but I was wrong. It’s the powerful honesty, written eloquently in all its vulnerability, that will grab your heart, reduce you to tears, cause you to chuckle, and in some cases infuriate you, as it did me.

These stories weren’t fiction fantasies or pretty pictures of caregivers being selfless martyrs, as some may think, and the patients weren’t patiently waiting to die; these were true accounts of people — parents, children, spouses, friends, and siblings — who while living life, being all they could be, were stricken with illness or injury and needed help.

Caregiving for the chronically or critically ill is not a pretty subject. These writers opened their homes, hearts, and minds and let out every ounce of love, fear, frustration, and anger and shared the trials and tribulations they felt during their caregiving journey.

Each essay had its own merits, story, and sense of need.
Helen Schuman in her essay, My Father the Garbage Head, writes with poignant, heartwarming honesty of her father’s heart attack and strokes which led to his death.

Sam Lipsyte, in The Gift speaks openly and humorously about his drug abuse, how it wrecked his life, and while he “cleaned up his act” his mother let him move back in. Shortly after, his mother tells him and his sister that her breast cancer had recurred. He handled the news with a matter-of-fact acceptance that he would be her caregiver.

I was sort of relieved when I realized it was going to be me. Why knock yourself out trying to resuscitate your life when you can cling to somebody else’s. (12)

Ann Harleman’s My Other Husband describes her husband’s illness and the grueling bleakness and burden of MS.

MS is something that goes on happening—growing, changing, worsening—measurable not in weeks, months, or even years, but in decades. Something huge and black that descends slowly and inexorably and surrounds you. (21)

Her heartfelt love showed in each of the slices of their life she describes before MS took over. Her friend told her, “With chronic illness, a lot of times the caregiver ends up dying first. Out of stress and exhaustion. I’ve seen it.” (28) After years, frustrated and worn, she finally decided to place him in a nursing home “for his sake and hers.”

Eleanor Cooney’s essay Death in Slow Motion was formed from a former Harper’s Magazine article and later became a book under the same name. The eloquently written story is about her mother, writer Mary Draper, and her decline with Alzheimer’s Disease.

Cooney shoots from the hip with her openness of dealing with Alzheimer’s and the dilemmas and life interruptions her and her mate dealt with after moving her mother into an apartment close to their home. After just a few short months of her mother’s arrival, Cooney finds herself in an argument with her mate, who bolts out of the house to clear the air, and she stands in the dark with her “heart pounding with fury, sorrow, anguish.” (120)

She speaks of her mother’s lack of memory, repetitive conversations, questions, and how people with dementia “become unappetizing.”

They don’t bathe unless you make them…You will begin to find a person you love…odious. And you will hate yourself for feeling it. (126)

Susan Lehman, in Don’t Worry. It’s Not An Emergency tells a grim, yet capturing story of her nearly 300-pound mother, who spoke with a “thunder” voice, or “blast,” sat and ate sorbet, doughnuts, huge amounts of candy, and smoked cigarettes all day. Lehman moved her mother from her home in Ohio to live on the 8th floor of her apartment building so she could keep a closer watch on her. Her three children adored their grandmother and visit her daily.

The story of her mother’s illness is not the least bit funny, but Lehman manages to spin the tale with utmost charm and humor.

Did I mention that my mother had no teeth? And that as a result, her mouth flapped back and forth, like bird wings, over her face? Did I mention that my children called her Doodles? (167)

In the Land of Little Girls Ann Hood’s 36 hour experience with her 5-year-old’s illness and quick death was appalling in many ways. Hood describes not only the illness and death, but also her devastation at Gracie’s death and the horrible treatment she and her family were subjected to in the hospital.

An Uncertain Inheritance may never become a best seller due to the subject matter, but it should be a book that each and every human being should read and realize the reality it speaks about; they too may face the need to be cared for, or need to care for someone else. I only hope the readers have families like these who take that responsibility seriously regardless of time-consuming needs, the love, the fear, the frustration, the anger, and the rejection that may be a result from it.

Click HERE to purchase An Uncertain Inheritance: Writer’s on Caring for Family.

BOOK REVIEW: the People’s Republic of Desire by Annie Wang

2008-01-23T21:27:00.000-05:00

the People’s Republic of Desire
By Annie Wang
Harper Paperbacks
464 pp Paperback
Fiction
ISBN-10: 0060782773
ISBN-13: 978-0060782771
Amazon Price: $11.16

Those who know little to nothing about Chinese culture will receive an eye-opening experience of how China was and how China is now through Annie Wang’s novel the People’s Republic of Desire.

Wang takes readers on a journey with four cosmopolitan women learning to live life in the new China. Niuniu, the book’s narrator is a Chinese American woman, who spent seven years living in the States obtaining her degree in journalism. In the book, Niuniu is now considered a “returnee” when goes back to China to get over a broken heart. What she meets upon return to her homeland is not the traditional Confucian values she left, but a new modern China where Western culture seems to have taken over—by extreme.

Niuniu, the narrator of the book, is called a “Jia Yangguiz” which means a “fake foreign devil” because of her Westernized values. Her friend Beibei is the owner of her own entertainment company and is married to a man who cheats, so Beibei deals with his infidelity by finding her own young lovers. Lulu is a fashion magazine editor who has been having a long-term affair with a married man, and thinks nothing of having several abortions to show her devotion to him. CC, also a returnee, struggles with her identity between Chinese and English.

In the People’s Republic of Desire the days of the 1989 idealism and the Tiananamen Sqaure protests seem forgotten to this new world and making a fast yuan, looking younger, more beautiful, and acting important seems to be of the most concern to this generation.

Wang uses these four woman to make humorous and sometimes sarcastic observations of the new China and accurately describes how Western culture has not only infiltrated China, but is taken to extreme by those who have experienced a world outside the Confucian values. What was once a China consumed with political passions, nepotism, unspoken occurrences, and taboos is now a world filled with all those things once discouraged—sex, divorce, pornography, and desire for material goods. It’s taken the phrase “keeping up with the Joneses” to an all-time high.

Wang offers a glimpse of modern day Beijing and what it would take for any woman—returnee or otherwise—to move forward and conquer dilemmas in the fast-moving Chinese culture. The characters joke that “nowadays, the world is for bad girls” and all the values of their youth have been lost to this new modern generation of faking their identity, origin, and accent. It seems that such a cultural shock would be displeasing to those who knew the old China, but instead these young women seem to be enjoying the newfound liberties.

If you’re looking for a quick read with a plot, you won’t find one. Each of the 101 chapters reads like individual short stories. Separate stories about friends, family, and other individuals who Niuniu is acquainted with or meets and through which Wang weaves a humorous and often sarcastic trip into Beijing, China.

The book is filled with topics of family, friends, Internet dating, infidelity, rich, poor, and many of the same ideals most cultures worry themselves about. Many of the chapters end with popular phrases that give the reader an insight into Chinese culture and language. Wang does seem to use Niuniu’s journalistic background to intertwine the other characters and come to a somewhat significant conclusion.
As the press release stated, “Wang paints an arresting portrait of a generation suffocating in desire. For love. For success. For security. For self actualization. And for the most elusive aspiration of all: happiness.”

With the People’s Republic of Desire, Wang does just that. She speaks not only of the new culture but also of the old ways and how China used to be. She may have educated readers about the new China with her knowledge of the Western and Chinese culture, but she also hit the nail on the head when it comes to showing most people’s needs. After all, aren’t most human beings striving for many of these same elusive dreams?

Click HERE to purchase the People’s Republic of Desire.

Oatmeal and Dogs Don’t Mix

2008-01-23T21:15:00.000-05:00

Or at least they shouldn’t!

I’ve had my hands full this past week going through files getting everything ready to prepare taxes. I should have known better than to try to do anything remotely time consuming while Mom was still up and awake. It just goes to prove that even though you “think” you know all there is to know about the sounds of the house, walker, Mom, and the dog, there is always a sound you don’t hear or one you haven’t heard before.

I was upstairs sitting on the floor in the midst of a pile of paperwork when I heard Mom’s walker rolling along the carpet. No problem. She was heading to the kitchen most likely to get a drink of water. Correct. I heard the water running. Then, I heard her say, “I’ll let you out in a minute.” Heard the door open next and her cussing because she was having a hard time getting the dog hooked to the chain on the porch. Less than a minute later, the dog’s tags on his collar are tingling, the door closes, and he starts barking, so I know he’s back inside. The reason I know this is because her dog only barks when someone comes in the door and he barks at the door after it’s closed. Strange, I know, but he’s done this for as long as I can remember.

Next I heard this strange sound I hadn’t heard through the monitor before. I had no idea what it was so I figured I’d better go check out what was going on.

Mom was in the dining room and headed for the living room by the time I got up off the floor and made it down the steps. I asked her if she needed anything and she said no and was very proud of herself for letting the dog out to do its business.

Two Feather was on his way down to get the mail, so I headed for the bathroom before he had a chance to come back up the hill.

You’re going to love this one.

When I went into the kitchen to let Two Feather in, I noticed a powdery substance in the dog’s dish. I looked closer and realized it was oatmeal. I turned around and saw an empty package of instant oatmeal on the kitchen counter. Once again I was brought to tears from laughing. I realized the sound I’d heard earlier was Mom laying the dog’s dish on the counter and back onto the floor. She hasn’t fed her dog for the past three years so naturally it wasn’t a sound I’d heard in a long while. With Alzheimer’s we can never be certain what is on our loved one’s mind. I’m not sure if she was thinking she was feeding him or giving him a “good boy” treat for going potty, but either way, he got oatmeal. ROFL

Guess I don’t need to tell you what else I hand my hands full with for the next two days. :)

Hint: Don’t give dogs oatmeal for dinner or a treat. It cleans them out as well as it does we humans. LOL

Anyway, in between getting paperwork sorted, and cleaning up dog doo-doo, I’ve been working on getting my “to be read” pile of books down to a more reasonable level. I’ve become so far behind. I send my apologies to the authors. I may be a bit behind, but I am reading in the order received and will complete them and give each book the attention it deserves.

So, anyone who’s not interested in books, you may want to skip the next few posts. Yes, I’m at it again—book reviews!

Thanks For Making Me Laugh

2008-01-15T21:02:00.000-05:00

It seems like weeks since I’ve posted and it’s only been five days. Good grief, where do I begin. Friday I still wasn’t feeling well so the day dragged on. I called Stacey’s cell phone and found out that she hadn’t called after the tornado scare because Trinity had spilled orange juice on her cell phone. She was able to retrieve messages but she couldn't make calls and calls wouldn’t go through. Thank you all for your concern for her and her family. As you already know from her post, they are all fine.

Late Friday evening my mom’s neighbor, Mrs. Y. called to let us know Mrs. E. (her mother) passed away. After I hung up, I cried. Mrs. E. was one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever known. I never heard her say a bad word about anyone in the 55 years I knew her. She was able to enjoy many of her family members coming in to visit and celebrate her 102nd birthday the Saturday before her death. I’ll miss seeing Mrs. E. outside in the yard and waiving to her and her son, Billy, as we drive up the driveway past their house to Mom’s. She always said, “the good lord lets me live to take care of Billy.” I imagine Billy will move in with Mrs. Y. so she can care for him now. I have the utmost respect for her entire family. Daughter, grandchildren, and great grandchildren pitched in to help in the care of Mrs. E. There was an abundance of selfless people who gave of their time and love to show this 102-year-old woman the respect she deserved. I’m sure she left this earth knowing that she had a wonderful family.

Saturday morning I woke up Mom, got her washed and dressed, and made her breakfast. After she ate and was settled in her chair in the living room, I broke the news to her about Mrs. E. I didn’t think it would be easy, but I certainly didn’t expect what took place. First I had to explain who called. She didn’t recognize her neighbor’s name. After explaining that Mrs. Y. called and who Mrs. Y is, I proceeded to tell her that Mrs. Y’s mother died, and had to remind her that Mrs. E. was the other neighbor on our driveway. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone trying to explain who her neighbors were, just to let her know one of them had passed away. If Mom didn’t have Alzheimer’s she would have been in tears about Mrs. E’s death—after all, she had been neighbors with her for 50 years—but this disease steals so much memory and emotion from our loved ones, it’s difficult to tell how they will react. Her reaction was far from what I’d expected. She merely said, “That’s a shame. She was old, wasn’t she?” A few minutes later she said, “That’s strange. You don’t think about death until it’s next door.” That was it! No emotion. No tears. No memory.

Sunday morning the lady from Mom’s church came to give her communion. Angel, Tim, and Katie came to visit around 11:15 as the lady was leaving. They stayed until 12:30. At 1:30 my brother, Ray, came to visit.

As I walked upstairs after getting a cup of coffee from the kitchen, I heard Mom tell Ray about a lady who visited yesterday (it was actually that morning) and how nice this lady was. She said something about her talking a lot and trying to sell her something (Avon maybe) but she just listened and didn’t buy anything. Later I heard her say that the lady comes every six months or so, then it was every couple weeks, and she buys all sorts of nice things from her.

I stay upstairs in my room while my brother visits, but when I come down to get something to drink or use the bathroom, I caught bits and pieces of her conversation, and Ray talks loud so it’s difficult not to hear some of what he says.

After about 45 minutes, I went downstairs to get Mom a cup of tea and was invited to sit with them in the living room.

I had to laugh at a few things I heard, though. Ray asked Mom if she had candy in her mouth. She said, “No, I got a new plate and it’s bothering me.” She told him she got it from someone other than her regular dentist about three weeks ago.

Ray doesn't come around Mom often enough to know she’s picked up a few new odd habits. One is running her tongue across the top of her plate and the back of her teeth. She does it all the time. Her mouth moves as she does this and she does look like she has something in her mouth. Her other little odd habit is her making a “humph” sound all the time. When she’d mumbled “humph” before Alzheimer’s, there was something on her mind that she was about to say, and I could expect an explanation for the sound she’d made. Normally, it was just something she thought of and wanted to tell me. Now, she just says, “humph” and nothing follows except another “humph.”

I don’t consider this a habit, but it is something I find quite fascinating about Mom having Alzheimer’s. When Mom can’t search her brain and find a reasonable and true answer to a question she’s asked, she’ll make up an answer. :D

So with that in mind, no, Mom didn’t go to a different dentist and she didn’t get a new plate, the nice lady who came Sunday morning was from the church to give her communion and she doesn’t sell Avon, Mom doesn’t read anymore because she’s not comprehending what she reads, she doesn’t crochet, she doesn’t watch TV at 6:00 PM because she's normally asleep by 5:30, and the dogs she says she sees in the yard are really deer.

There was very little of what Mom said that was real. She did remember that Mrs. E. had died and point blank said, “Oh, she’s dead,” when Ray asked how Mrs. E. was doing. That, and the fact that Mom likes to color, is about the only thing that came out of Mom’s mouth that was reality.

The funniest part about the entire day was when Mom and I were talking about the day before she went to bed. As I dress her for bed, I always talk about what we did all day to help remind her of what went on. Not that it does any good anymore, but it gives us something to talk about and she enjoys hearing how her day went.

I told her that the lady from the church doesn’t sell Avon, and the deer in the yard aren’t dogs. She laughed when I told her that is what she told Ray. What was truly hilarious was when I told her that she did tell Ray a few things that really happened. She asked me what she said. I said, “You remembered that Mrs. E. died and you told him you love to color.” She looked at me with this surprised look and said, “I like to color? Really?”

I couldn’t keep from laughing. Once again Mom went to bed after a hardy laugh about how this crazy disease gives us a little humor. I bent down to give her a kiss and tuck her in and she said, “Thanks for making me laugh.”

Hey Watching You, pass the word on to Ray. Just want to make sure everyone knows the reality of Alzheimer's. You can't always believe what our loved ones say is real.

Tornadoes in Alabama--Worried Mom Here

2008-01-10T23:15:00.000-05:00

Day care was open today and routines were back to normal. Stacey called me in the early afternoon. She's such a stinker. She sounded like she was pretending to sniffle (you know those sounds I mentioned I heard on the phone that always told me something was wrong) and proceeded to tell me that there were 20 tornadoes headed her way in Alabama. She may really have been crying, but she hides her emotions very well from me lately. The schools closed and she had to leave work and pick up the kids. She said she'd call me back in an hour or so and let me know if everything was OK.

While talking to her, I told her she should have stayed in PA instead of moving back to Alabama. I remember how she used to call me just before every threat of a tornado. We bought her a crank generated weather band radio for Christmas last year, so she'd always be able to hear a weather report if the power went out. She was always a nervous wreck; asking me what she should do if she spotted one. There are no basements to hide in, so I always said she should grab a mattress, get everyone in the bathtub, and hold the mattress over them. If that wasn't possible, I joked that she should stand between the most sturdy doorframe, bend over, and kiss her butt goodbye. She always got a chuckle out of that. It's not so funny, when you actually think about it, though. There is nowhere to hide from a tornado down there.

You'd think the Army base would have underground bunkers, or something in place for the safety of their employees.

No call came in. I tried calling her cell phone after I got Mom settled and the call didn't go through. It disconnected after a single ring. I watched the weather report and couldn't tell if her area was hit or not.

I'll try again in the morning and see if I can get through. I hate not knowing. Guess I'm going to have to get a better communication system with her in cases like these.

Stacey, if you went back to work today, let me know you weren't bent over between the doorframe and how things went. You worry the pants off your mother and Two. :D

Power Outage and No Day Care

2008-01-09T22:24:00.000-05:00

When I pulled up to the day care this morning, there were no lights on inside. Evidently, high winds intermittently knocked down trees and power lines and the day care was within that power outage. They were on the phone calling to find out how soon power would be restored when we walked in. Their battery emergency power unit kicked in so there was heat and emergency lighting. I had second thoughts of leaving her, but figured Duquesne Light would have them up and running in no time being that they are a care facility. Well, that time didn’t come. I received a call at 9:00 requesting me to pick up Mom because Duquesne Light told them they probably wouldn’t have the power back on until 6:00 PM. The day care’s battery power died after two hours and they had no way to make breakfast or lunch and the building went dark when the emergency lights went out, so they called everyone and requested them to pick up their loved ones.

I wasn’t feeling well when I got up this morning and was looking forward to getting a few hours sleep. If I felt better, I was going to suggest that Two and I go out and do something—bowling, movie, anything to get out of the house and do something different. After I received the call to pick up Mom, I burst into tears—not because I had to pick her up, but because I realized how much I cherish my time with Two and because I realized how totally exhausted I’ve become. The way I was feeling, the last thing I wanted and needed to do was jump back into the car and drive. I needed rest—even if that rest was only to lie on the couch and relax.

It was strange walking into the building when I picked up Mom. There wasn’t the normal hum of conversation, chairs moving, and faces glancing toward the door to see who was being picked up first. The room was dark and quiet. I was filled with an uncomfortable and eerie feeling seeing only the silhouettes of all the clients huddled at the one large table in the front of the room waiting for their loved one’s to show up. The usual smiles were replaced with worried lines and wonder. I could hear one of the caregivers reassure a client that their loved one would be there soon and s/he wouldn’t be stuck there in the dark. I could only imagine how strange and frightening the stillness and darkness felt to them.

Naturally any change in our loved one’s routine muddles their thoughts, so when Mom walked in the house she wasn’t sure where she was; yet she headed straight for the bedroom to change clothes because that is normally what she does. I guided her away from the bedroom and into the living room to sit in her chair explaining that it was only 10:00 AM and we had the whole day ahead of us.

And indeed we did! My head was throbbing, my stomach and chest felt as if someone had beaten me with a baseball bat, my legs felt like rubber, and Mom was all ready to go to day care. She didn’t remember that she had been there and sent home because the electric was out, so we went through the “what day is this?” and “do I go to club tomorrow?” questions all day. Each time, I explained that she was at club for a few hours, but the power was out, so they sent everyone home, and she would go back tomorrow.

Mom knew I wasn’t feeling well, so after lunch she sat in her chair in the living room and colored while I stretched out on the couch where she could see that I was resting and knew I was OK.

After she was in bed for the evening and I knew she was sleeping, I went upstairs and fell asleep across the bed and hence a later post. Three hours rest and I’m going back for more. Night all...

Tiny Tests of Integrity

2008-01-08T18:08:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I think that we are all being tested during our time here on earth. Are we tested for our strength? Not our physical strength, but our inner strength. Our strength to endure things that we never thought we could endure. Are we tested for our love? Not our physical love, but our love of others, love of nature, love of all the blessings that have been bestowed upon us. Are we tested for our blessings? Not the blessings we receive, but the blessings we can bestow upon others. Are we tested for our knowledge? Not knowledge in the sense of how smart we are, but knowledge in the sense of whether or not we realize how many wonderful gifts we’ve been given: gifts of strength, endurance, love, and all the blessings that come with them.

Are we tested for our honor and integrity? I think we are. Throughout life, I’ve seen myself go through many tiny tests of integrity. It’s the simple little things that many people wouldn’t think were tests at all that I believe are tiny pieces of our big picture. It’s those simple little things we go through each day in our life and the choices we make that mold us into who we are and state whether or not our integrity is still in tact.

I went to the bank yesterday to make a deposit for my uncle and cash a few checks I received in the mail last week. I had the total of the checks, $105, stuffed back in a corner of my brain behind the list of errands I wanted to complete. As I waited for the teller to punch the keys of the keyboard on her computer, my brain was overflowing—thinking of the next thing on my errand list. I glanced around at the people in the bank, nearly a dozen, and casually watched them converse with other bank employees. When the teller came back to my window, she handed me my deposit receipt and counted out the money from the cashed checks. My mind swung back to my errand list as she put the money in an envelope and handed it to me. Normally, I count the cash again, right at the window in front of the teller, but I was anxious to get my errands completed, and I stuffed the envelope into my purse.

I walked out of the bank, opened the car door, and Two Feather asked me what was wrong. “I don’t know, maybe nothing,” I said. Something didn’t seem right to me as I walked out of the bank, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. I guess the expression on my face showed I was unsure of something. I put my purse on the seat and pulled out the bank envelope. “I think the teller counted wrong,” I said. “I was in a hurry and wasn’t paying much attention, but I think she gave me too much money.”

“You didn’t count it before you left the window? You always count the cash before you leave the window,” he said.

“No, I didn’t. I don’t know why. I was thinking of everything we had to do today.”

I pulled the cash out of the envelope and counted it. There was $145 in my hand. I put the money back in the envelope, went back into the bank, and called the teller over to the side. I told her I had three checks that totaled $105. She went to her station to pull out the checks and said, “Yes, it was $105.” I told her she had given me too much money. She looked at the checks again and said, “I thought I’d missed a check. I must have ran it through twice.” I handed her $40 back. She thanked me as she looked at the checks and her copy of the receipt and shook her head. She thanked me again before I walked out the door and I heard her telling the employee next to her, “You don’t see that type of honesty too often.” I turned, smiled, and said, “Happy New Year.”

I was still smiling when I got in the car with Two Feather. With the way the world is today, I wondered how many others would have returned the money once they realized the teller’s mistake. It felt good to know that my integrity is still in tact.

BOOK REVIEW: The Writer Behind the Words by Dara Girard

2008-01-08T17:25:00.000-05:00

The Writer Behind the Words
By Dara Girard
Ilori Press
September 30, 2007
131 pp Paperback
Writing/Education
ISBN: 0977019152
Amazon Price: $10.46

There are shelves of good books about how to become a better writer; this book isn’t one of them. Disappointed and discouraged? Good—In that case, The Writer Behind the Words by Dara Girard can be just the book you are looking for.

Girard won’t tell you how to write a perfect query letter or which editors to query, but she will tell you how to identify the obstacles in your writing career and suggest ways to overcome them.

Drawing on her personal experience, disappointments, discouragements, and doubts in her writing career, Gerard has written an honest, straightforward, humorous book to help beginning writers survive the downfalls of the publishing world.

Don’t look for sugarcoated words with all the keys to success and all the right answers to all your writing needs. Girard didn’t sugarcoat anything. In fact, her book is loaded with scenarios gone wrong that could give you reason to put your pen down and quit writing. But following those downward spirals are plenty of suggestions and encouragement to keep writing and working on your craft.

Truth is, Girard hits on many of the pitfalls of a writing career. She tells you how to spot bad editors and agents and tells writers they can be their own dream killers by making excuses for not writing. There are even tips on how to tackle your own excuses.

The Writer Behind the Words is divided into three parts.

Part One: Assessing Yourself explains how beginning writers are looking for the secrets and steps to publication. Rather than tell you what success is, Girard tells you to “define success for yourself” and explains the differences between goals and missions. She reveals the reality of the six hard truths of publishing and the seven traits of successful writers.

Part Two: Surviving the Battlefield is a step-by-step instruction on how to overcome disappointment, discouragement, doubt and depression. Girard explains how rejections influence your writing career and offers tips on how to recover from rejection and move forward.

This reviewer even found humor in Girard’s thoughts about book reviewers:

Somebody with the intelligence of a pimple, somewhere is going to criticize your work; not constructively, mind you, but with the sole intent of demolishing your work and making themselves feel witty. …They are writers with hidden agendas. Some are kind; some are cruel. But they don’t count; readers do. (51-52)

While in some cases reviewers are as described; some are not, and they do count because they are readers. Girard offered humorous tips on what to do with a bad review as well. She suggests to “flush it down the toilet” or “get your dog to pee on it” or “find out what the reviewer disliked and then do that some more—That is what will make your work unique. (53)

Part Three: Four Steps to Resilience is where Girard tells beginning writers to get support, relax, know your limitations, and get a strategy.

She ends the books with seven pages of recommended resources and writer’s organizations.

In The Writer Behind the Words Girard put her heart, soul, and her disappointments and discouragements into words that could help beginning writers see the disappointments they may face before they find out the hard way as Girard did.

In the preface to her book Girard writes:

I wrote this book as a gift to other writers who are discouraged, feel hopeless or useless in a world that can make us—the artist—feel insignificant and invisible. …Isolation is deadly to the spirit, yet, as a writer, a necessary requirement at times. So let this little book be a friend that whispers to you: “You are important and your words are needed.”

This reviewer would recommend The Writer Behind the Words to beginning writers. They could benefit from Girard’s experience and find the encouragement and tips they need to overcome the pitfalls in their own writing career.

Click HERE to purchase The Writer Behind the Words.

Just Another AD Sunday

2008-01-06T21:01:00.000-05:00

It’s Sunday! Just another AD Sunday on our little mountain. Though I repeated that today is Sunday numerous times, as I knew I would, and was able to tell Mom that she goes to “club” tomorrow, she wasn’t anything like she was yesterday. Today, she talked all day about her mom and dad and my dad. She told me stories that I’d heard years ago and I sat listening to her tell them as if it were the first time I’d heard them.

The last time I heard her tell those types of stories was five or six years ago. I was amazed at how she was able to recall the detail from those stories. If I didn’t know she had Alzheimer’s I certainly wouldn’t suspect it from her recall today. Her trip down memory lane was as spot on as the first time I’d heard the tales when I was a child.

I’m always amazed at how Alzheimer’s plays with our loved one’s mind. One day or moment it allows shards of light from the past, and another day or moment it steals every memory they have. It’s truly a mind-boggling puzzle to we caregivers never knowing what may or may not be in or on their minds. It’s scary. I can only imagine how it must feel for them.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I may have short circuited those plaques and tangles in her brain with the short stories I read to her yesterday. She may not have recalled anything of what I was reading, but I wondered if it triggered her to remember her childhood and earlier years. I think it did because she hasn’t talked about her mom and dad in several years.

It was good feeling that I may have triggered some fond memories for her from her past in a round about way. I never knew her mom; she died before I was even thought of, but I’d always felt like I knew her from the stories my mom told me about her. Mom talked about when she first started dating Dad, and I had to button my lip to keep from finishing the story. I knew exactly what she’d told me before; I knew the story by heart, and today the story came out exactly as she once told it. Today, as she used to before, Mom spoke of her mother with such admiration. She started to tear up as she spoke of her and said, “She was such a lady.”

Mom said she wished I would have had the chance to know her mother and I said I wished I had, too. Then I said, “Mom, if she was half the lady you are, then I guess I know her through you.” Mom smiled and then laughed a long, hard belly laugh and said, “I’m not near the lady she was. I don’t hold a candle to her.”

“That’s funny,” I said. “I feel the same way. I’m not near the lady you are and I’ll never hold a candle to you.”

Mom got up out of her chair, pushed her walker over to me, hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek.

“You are my candle,” she said.

How do you respond to a compliment like that other than to say, “Thank you, Mom! I love you.”

*** I would have ended this post with that wonderful ending, but…

This little candle’s flame is nearly flickering out with all the imaginary visits from Mr. N. lately. Four times since 7:00 I’ve had to go downstairs and guide Mom back to bed after her thinking Mr. N. was in the living room. I asked Mom what she would do if Mr. N. were here? This is the part where I think I needed the walker to hold me up and keep my balance. She said, “I’d bring him back here in my room and take him to bed with me.”

Oh boy! Am I going to have fun tonight! ROFL This is getting to be a bit awkward.

As I explained to her that Mr. N. was not in the house and she should get some sleep, she looked at me strangely. Before I had the covers pulled up and tucked her in, she asked, “Who’s this Mr. N. guy you’re talking about?”

I burst out laughing and she laughed, too, as I said, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Mom. Let’s get some sleep.”

Here’s hoping. :D

PS. Oh, yes, I can't go without mentioning my mom's and my neighbor turned 102 today!
Happy Birthday Mrs. E.

Whatevers, Whatchamacallits, Dohickies, and What Day Is It?

2008-01-05T21:18:00.000-05:00

From the moment Mom woke up this morning I knew she wasn’t going to have a good day. It always throws her off a bit on Saturday morning when she doesn’t go to day care, but this morning she was a bit more off than usual. She couldn’t figure out what clothes were what or how to put them on. This is normal lately, but today she couldn’t pull up the words for pants, shirt, socks, or shoes. They were all “whatevers,” “whatchamacallits, and “dohickies.”

After I got her dressed, I walked with her to her dresser and told her to comb her hair. I went into the kitchen to get her pills, juice, and breakfast together. When I went back into her bedroom, she still hadn’t combed her hair. She was standing in front of the dresser just staring at the things on top of it. I finally got her to comb her hair, and then she had to go to the bathroom. She was wandering around the house as if she was lost—couldn’t find the bathroom, and couldn’t remember how to get from the bathroom back to the kitchen. After breakfast, (she ate very little) I got her settled in her chair in the living room and put her coloring book and crayons on her table in front of her. She just stared at them for a moment, not interested in them, and leaned back in her chair.

Since she was having a particularly bad morning, I gathered all the bills, stamps, envelopes, and checkbooks and took them downstairs to the living room and set them on the table in front of my chair so I could write out checks for bills and keep her company at the same time. Big mistake. I wasn’t able to concentrate on the bills and repeat answers to questions at the same time. If I’m not looking directly at her while I’m talking, she gets angry and thinks I’m not paying attention. This is why I normally do all the paperwork upstairs in my room, but because she was having an off day, I thought I should be close to her. I ended up taking all the paperwork back upstairs to do later after she was in bed and I brought down the book for which I was reading to write a book review. She wasn’t in the mood to color or talk much, so I figured I’d read the book to her. She didn’t look like she had an inkling as to what I was reading, but she smiled as I read to her and asked if it was a book I wrote and wondered if she had a copy. I said, “I wish, Mom, my books haven’t even been submitted yet. But someday I’d do that.”

This is where she blew my mind. She asked me to stop reading the book I was reading and asked me to get one of my books and read it to her. She was never a horror fan, so those weren’t appropriate. Three of my six novels are horror, so they were out. Two of the six weren’t appropriate because of subject matter and that left me with only two other choices: read the romance novel that I co-authored with my friend, or read the humorous short stories I wrote about living on the farm with her and dad. I chose the short stories.

It’s been years since I wrote those stories and quite frankly I’d forgotten what I’d written. She didn’t associate that the stories were written about Dad, her, and me. She didn’t realize that those stories were true. They didn’t bring back one single memory for her. They were just stories about some little girl who helped her father and mother on the farm. As I read, she did laugh at all the right places, though. That made up for her not really knowing they were true stories about us. I’d written them as children’s stories for a series of children’s books. The way I see it, Alzheimer’s takes our loved ones back to being childlike. Since she found humor where the humor was meant, then I’d say I might have a pretty darn good chance of getting these little stories published as children’s books one day. There’s a bit of food for thought. I think, when the mood strikes, I’ll start sketching the illustrations for them as well. Maybe I’ll put that on my list of things to do for 2008. While I’m at it, I may as well work on my final edit of my novels, and try to put together a book proposal for each one.

But first…I’ll finish my book reviews. A few will be posted shortly.

By the way, Betsy, I haven’t missed an evening writing in my journal. (I do have a running journal of the three years I’ve been here with Mom.) This one, though, is just for me. ;)

The rest of the day and early evening wasn’t much better than the morning. Mom was confused all day. She ate very little lunch and dinner and couldn’t wait to go to bed to get up in the morning to go to club. I felt so bad for her that she couldn’t remember that today is Saturday. She probably asked me more than 40 times today “is tomorrow Monday?” or “what day is it?” and each time she was disappointed when I showed her the calendar and told her tomorrow is Sunday. Even marking the days off on the calendar doesn’t help anymore.

It was a strange day all the way around. She kept telling me she felt warm. Mom never “feels” warm! She always says she’s cold and when I touch her she feels warm to me. She used to always ask everyone if they were cold, too. When my dad would hear her say she was cold, he’d always say to me, “Joanne, go get your sweater on, your mother’s cold.” It was a standing joke in the house.

Tonight, when I kissed her before I turned her light out, her cheeks and forehead felt cool, yet she was still telling me how toasty warm she felt. Odd. Just odd.

Well, tomorrow is Sunday and I’m prepared to answer the same questions over and over. Good thing is…tomorrow I can tell her tomorrow is Monday. :D

Turkey Heads Back To The Woods

2008-01-04T20:07:00.000-05:00

On Wednesday morning when I was ready to take Mom to day care I noticed a turkey hobbling through the snow in the front yard. I watched it flap its wings and move a few inches through the snow and fall. I’d watched this very same turkey all spring and summer scratch for food in the yard. The reason I know it was the same turkey is because it couldn’t fly. It had no tail feathers. It was using its wings to make its way into the woods for shelter from the cold. I got out of the car and watched it hobble and wing itself down the hill behind Mom’s house and settle beneath a tree and fallen branches. I knew if the turkey weren’t able to walk and scratch for food, it would die.

When I got to my house that morning, I told Two Feather about it and we rode down to Mom’s to see if the turkey was still there. We walked down the slope just behind the house and there she was, huddled beneath a pile of brush. She was still alive.

Two and I walked up to it and when we got within just a few feet of her, she pushed herself off the ground and hobbled down the hill using her wings for balance. She was a fast ball of feathers, but not fast enough for Two. He ran down the hill and grabbed her before she crawled beneath another pile of brush. He carried her up the hill and we took her home.

She had a broken leg. Two put a pop cycle stick splint on her leg and taped it so she could heal. All day Wednesday and Thursday, he fed her birdseed and was able to get her to drink water. He kept her safe and warm in the shed out behind our house. Thursday she was a bit spunky and got up on her foot and ran around the shed. This morning when he went out to the shed to feed her, she was standing by the door waiting for him.

This afternoon we rode back down Mom’s with her in his lap. He held her for a moment, stroked her head and set her free back into the woods.

The splint he made seemed to be holding up very well. I wasn’t able to get another shot of her as she ran down the hill behind Mom’s house. I hope she makes it through the winter. We’ll know next spring if we see that funny looking turkey without a tail.

Winter Snow and Bitter Cold

2008-01-04T19:34:00.000-05:00

Winter is here. We had four inches of snow dumped on us overnight on January 2. I love looking at the snow, but I can't stand the bitter cold that comes with it.

Keith’s Reflective Questions—For Your New Year Consideration

2008-01-04T19:32:00.000-05:00

With Keith’s permission, I give you his list of reflective questions for the New Year. Keith is one fantastic guy at the Absolute Write website where I moderate the Freelance Forum. I hope you enjoy his New Year reflections and find them as thought-provoking as I did, and I hope they help you consider all that is wonderful in your life as well. Thank you, Keith!!! You’re a gem!

In Keith’s own words: Joanne, I'm grateful that others might be finding the list of questions useful. Feel free to use the entire post if you think it will help anyone. Above all else, that's what it's about!

Thanks, Joanne.
Keith

What's everyone doing for New Year's Eve? It's my second favorite time of year and I'm really excited for this one! I don't go out. I stay home, alone, and reflect on the past year. Here are just a few things I try to consider:

What have I done with the year? Which goals did I accomplish? Which ones didn't I? Why not? What am I willing to change about myself to accomplish those goals? What do I want to focus on in 2008? If I accomplish only one thing next year, what's the one most important thing that should be?

Where have I gotten off-track in my life spiritually, emotionally, physically, etc? Have I fallen into a rut (which is just a grave with the two ends knocked out)? Has my routine become complacent and overly comfortable? Where have I gotten lazy? What do I procrastinate on?

Am I living the life I want to live? Granted, no one person has all of their dreams come true, but am I still dreaming? Have I been reaching for them? Am I enjoying what I'm doing or did I just fall into it? Am I living deliberately, and on purpose, or am I just taking everything as it happens and coping with it all? (I don't want to just cope, I want to live my life!) What's been holding me back and how can I change it? What more could I do?

What are my priorities -- my real priorities? Have they taken the back-burner to lesser important things in life? Have other people's (coworkers', boss', relatives', friends', etc.,) needs and urgencies enveloped me to the point that mine, and my families', come second? Have I said "no" enough? Have I said "yes" to enough of the right things? How have I been spending my time? Have errands and work robbed too much of my time from family and friends? Do I have a work/life balance? What can I change to make it better? If writing is important to me, as I say it is, have I allowed enough "me" time to enjoy it? (That's allowed, you know.)

How do my family and friends see me as of right now? Am I always busy? Am I short-tempered and harsh with my words? Have I taken extra moments to really give the people in my life those extra bits of attention to let them know I love them? When they try to talk to me, do I give them my attention or chat as I'm busy with other things? Who would I like to spend more time with? What relationships in my life need to be pruned back or cut off?

What are my financial goals? How do they compare to how I've been spending? Are there things I could cut out completely to help save expenses? (For example, do I really need a land line and cell phones? Could we live without cable channels and just stick with the basics? Am I willing to bring my lunch to work every day?) What am I willing to do to reach my financial goals?

How's my spiritual life? What do I believe? Have I taken the time to really think about this and know why I believe what I believe? Or do I just believe what I do because others have said it? Do my beliefs play out in my life or are they, in reality, just nice sentiments that I don't really put into practice?

How have I been blessed? If you keep a notebook of all the good things that happen, this is a good time to read through it and remember the things we may have forgotten during the bad times. (Personally, I do not journal. It's too Oprah.)

Once all of this reflection is done, I spend time in prayer - in thanks. I do this all through the year, too, but this is a very special day that I set aside to spend with God, without interruption. It's gotten addictive and I can't see spending my December 31st any other way!

How about you?
__________________
Keith

Thank you for letting me share this, Keith!

First Day of 2008

2008-01-01T21:22:00.000-05:00

The first day of 2008 started off with new thoughts and new goals. After midnight, I pulled out my new journal and wrote in it for the first day of the New Year. I began my journal by attaching Keith’s list of reflective questions inside the front cover and wrote my heartfelt answers to those questions. I even made a list of simple, yet manageable goals for the year. I’ll talk about those later, but one goal is to write in my journal every night before I go to sleep. Thank you, Betsy. I’m taking your writing challenge. Lights were out and I was asleep by 1:00.

Two is an early riser, but I was surprised when he woke up at 4:30 and told me he was going home. I walked him downstairs and went back to bed. I didn’t get up until 9:00. He came back down and sat with me to enjoy our morning coffee as we always do. He looked unusually tired and when I asked him about it, he said, “No wonder you’re always so tired. I know Mother gets up during the night, but she didn’t last night. Even when she doesn’t get up, you can’t possibly get any sleep with the way she snores.” I burst out laughing and so did he. He’s right. Whether Mom gets up during the night or not, I don’t get much sleep with her constant snoring. Funny though, last night, I didn’t hear a thing—not her snoring, not his snoring, nothing—I slept fine. I felt so comfortable with him there; I slept sound for the first time in a long time.

He left to go back home and I got Mom up to get her day started. I got her breakfast ready and we sat and talked while she ate. Then I convinced her to get into the shower without too much of a problem. We didn’t finish with all the bathroom detail until just before noon.

Mom sat at the kitchen table and peeled potatoes while I put the traditional pork and sauerkraut and kielbasa in a roasting pan to make for dinner. Once everything was in the oven, she sat in her chair in the living room and colored for the afternoon, while I sat in my chair and tried to finish writing a book review that’s been far too long in finishing.

I called Two around 4:00 and he came down to eat dinner with us. The conversation at dinner was quite different. For a moment, we thought Mom was fairly lucid when she asked, “Have my sons called?” “No, Mom. No one has called today.” “When do I go back to club?” “Tomorrow Mom. You had today off because of the holiday.” Then she looked at Two and said, “I’m glad you’re here for dinner.” It’s so difficult at times to know if Mom knows Two or not. She’s so good at talking to people and sounding like she’s a best friend with them. It wasn’t long before I realized she didn’t even know me. Or at least I think she didn’t. When she said, “You two are my best friends,” I sort of got the idea that at that moment, Two and I were, in her mind, just friends of hers. Then again, she may have been sincere about her statement. She’s always said I’m her best friend. I didn’t interject that I was her daughter, being her best friend has always been fine with me.

After dinner, Two sat and talked for a while and then went back to our house. It was time to get Mom washed and dressed for bed and she was sound asleep by 5:30.

Just now as I was ready to close this writing, I heard her get out of bed. She woke up at 9:00 after a dream and yelled up the steps. I started walking down the steps to see what was bothering her and she asked me if Mr. N. was upstairs. I told her no and directed her back to bed. On the days she isn’t at day care she asks all day when she goes back. Evidently, she misses being with her friends there. Glad I slept sound last night. I think tonight will be a long night again since Mr. N. is on her mind. Goodnight everyone. I’m going to catch my z’s in between Mr. N.’s visits. LOL

New Year's Eve

2007-12-31T23:30:00.000-05:00

The last day of 2007, New Year’s Eve, was a quiet one. I took Mom to day care for their New Year’s Eve party and Two and I went to Wal-Mart to buy a few movies to add to our collection. Stacey called to wish me a Happy New Year because she was having company for New Year’s Eve and she knew I was, too.

I picked up Mom at the usual time, brought her home, made dinner, and got her ready for bed. I learned a long time ago that it’s always easier to get her ready for bed before dinner because she’s always exhausted and less lucid by the time she finishes eating.

Mom received a piece of mail and I had her open it before dinner. When she looked at the envelope, she asked, “Who’s Sheila?” I said, “Ray’s wife.” “Oh,” she said. “Why’s she sending me something?” Mom asked. “I don’t know, Mom. Open it and see what it is,” I said. Mom opened it to find a picture with a post-it note on it. She couldn’t read it and asked me to read it to her. So I did. When she looked at the picture she asked, “Who are these people?” I told her the people in the picture were her grandson, his wife and their two daughters. Mom was seated in the middle of them. She recognized herself. “When was this taken?” Mom asked. “That was taken at Ray’s house when you went up there on Christmas,” I said. “I went there for Christmas?” Mom asked. “Yes, Mom. You went there for Christmas." “I don’t remember,” she said, as she put the picture on the table. She glanced at the picture several times while eating and I could tell by the wrinkles in her forehead that she was still trying to figure out when she’d been there and trying to figure out how the people in the picture were related to her. I tried to explain that Ray’s son is her grandson and Toby’s kids were her great grandchildren, but she didn’t comprehend the relationship at all. She just said, “If you say so.” She’s not able to comprehend how this all relates to her anymore. It is so, so sad. Even sadder is that she didn’t realize Christmas was here and gone.

During dinner I could tell she’d had a busy day. The lines on her face were more prominent and her eyelids were drooping. She was exhausted and as usual wanted to go to bed shortly after dinner. She was snoring her loud nasal snore within 15 minutes of being in bed.

Two came down to spend New Year’s Eve with me and spend the night. It was one of five times he’s stayed in the three years I’ve lived with Mom. Three were on New Year’s Eves and two were because Mom asked him to stay because she was afraid and wanted a man in the house.

We watched one of the movies we bought earlier in the day. Yeah, I know, on New Year’s Eve, it’s sort of odd to watch Halloween, but it was something to watch and we enjoyed it. Angel called to wish me Happy New Year and said she and Tim were staying home for the evening and watching Shrek 2.

Two and I snacked on a meat and cheese tray his dad brought us on Chritmas. It was delicious. The movie ended at 11:00 and I turned on the news to watch it and then planned to watch the ball drop at midnight. Two fell asleep during the news and I watched the countdown for the New Year. He woke up long enough to look at the TV, wish me Happy New Year, kiss me, and went back to sleep. LOL All in all, New Year’s Eve was a nice day and evening.

2008--I Wish For Strength

2007-12-30T19:04:00.000-05:00

One of my caregiver friends, Lori, is hoping for a better year. She hopes 2008 will be “her” year; A year of renewed life without pain, fear, tears, and hope of better things in her life. I wish that for her, too.

A writer friend of mine, Keith, asked what everyone had planned for New Year’s Eve. Keith said he stays at home, alone, and reflects on the past year and his life. He listed numerous questions that he asks himself each year to complete his day of reflection and those questions—extremely well thought out and excellent for reflecting on one’s life—really struck a chord with me. Not a bad chord in the respect that there was anything wrong with the questions, but in the respect that I felt worthless, hopeless, and lost when I reflected on those questions and answered them honestly.

Some of his questions were:
“What have I done with the year? Which goals did I accomplish and which ones didn’t I and why not? What am I willing to change about myself to accomplish those things? Am I living the life I want to live? Am I enjoying what I’m doing or did I just fall into it or am I living deliberately and on purpose or am I just taking everything as it happens and coping with it all? What’s been holding me back and how can I change it? What more could I do? Have other people’s needs and urgencies enveloped me to the point that mine, and my families, come second?”

These were just a few of some fifty questions he asks himself. The remaining questions were even more thought provoking, more deeply centered, and more heart wrenching to answer.

I haven’t done anything this past year for myself and I’ve given up any goals I’ve wanted to accomplish. I’m not living for me. I’m living for my mom, and her needs and urgencies have enveloped me to the point that mine, and my families have come second.

My life, this past year and the two before that, has been centered on Mom. That’s not saying that I would change it or want to change it; it’s just saying that I have concentrated so deeply on keeping her healthy and comfortable that my life has become unhealthy and uncomfortable. There is no life besides what I do with and for Mom. My life, as I knew it, has become nonexistent.

A feeling of worthlessness struck me head-on when I realized that even though Mom is doing fine, I’ve failed. I’ve failed Two Feather, my daughters, and my grandchildren. I’ve even failed myself. I’ve not been there for them during times they needed me most. I’ve not done things I would normally do and I’ve not lived life the way I would normally live. I’ve failed everything and everyone, except Mom.

My life is and has been hanging in the darkness of a disease called Alzheimer’s and, with each day, I hang on deliberately, yet I take everything as it happens and cope with it all. I cope with the explicit purpose that Mom lives on—only to die a horrible death. I feel worthless because nothing I’m doing will change the outcome.

As I reflect on this past year, there are probably many things I could have changed that would have given me and my family more time, more joys, and more life to live with each other, but had I changed what I’d done, I would have felt selfish. Nothing in this care giving role has ever been about me and never have I done anything for myself. I suppose I could change things in the upcoming year and think of my health, my family, and myself. I suppose I could take a long look at what I’ve done and what I haven’t done and try to decide whether or not it was all worth it. I suppose I could take my life back. But would that be me?

Someday, I’ll sit with Keith’s list of questions and answer them with myself in mind and maybe I’ll find answers that make me realize I’ve done something good. Someday, I’ll make plans and set goals for myself, once again, and no doubt accomplish them. Someday, I’ll live the life I’ve dreamed of, and do the things I’ve thought of doing. Someday. Someday when Mom’s life is complete. The last three years weren’t the years to do that. And 2008 probably won’t be either.

I can’t say that I wish myself a better year next year. There is no better with Alzheimer’s. Death may be better than the pain and suffering that will ensue. But I’ll not wish for death. I know when Alzheimer’s takes Mom I’ll still feel worthless and hopelessly lost.

Have I lived my dreams or done what I’d really like to do? No, not really. I was just starting to do that before I moved in with Mom. I’ve put Mom in front of everything and everyone, including myself. Yes, I’d like to be sleeping in my own bed, living in my own house with Two Feather, spending time with my daughters and grandchildren anytime I feel like it, and submitting and writing my novels. Hell, I’d just like to be writing again. Other than this stupid blog, I don’t even write anymore. I’d like to be getting on with my life, living my life, and accomplishing all the goals I set for myself back in 2004, but my life is on hold. I’m feeling worthless and lost—waiting for a hopeless and dreadful end—giving Mom love and the comfort of her home in her remaining time on this earth.

As I sit looking at Keith’s list of questions, I feel a mixture of emotions take over and I wonder when my someday comes if I’ll still feel as worthless and hopelessly lost as I do now. Someday, I’ll have those answers, and my life. Just not right now.

Right now, and for at least the beginning of 2008, the only plan I have is to continue doing what I’m doing and do the best I can for as long as I have left in me. Worthless as that plan may sound, it’s all I know to do.

Have I done what I planned for 2007? Have I accomplished my goal? Yes, I have. Mom is still with us. I guess I can’t think of any better way to start a new year than that.

Whatever 2008 may bring, I’m sure I’ll cope with it as it comes. They say whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Whatever comes, I wish for strength.

Happy New Year, everyone. I wish you strength, too.

Alzheimer’s—A Sad Journey Ends Tragically

2007-12-29T13:56:00.000-05:00

Man, 75, kills ailing wife, then himself, inside hospital.

The local news aired this shocking story today.

A man and woman’s 52-year marriage ended tragically last night when Mr. Riddle, 75, shot and killed his wife, Shirley, in an intensive care unit of the UPMC Hospital in Cranberry Township, Venango County.

Shirley, 74, had Alzheimer’s disease and according to their daughter, Mr. Riddle had taken care of her at home until five days ago when she fell, injured herself, and was admitted to the hospital for surgery.

According to state police, Mr. Riddle walked into UPMC yesterday, killed his wife with a revolver and turned the gun on himself. He left a note at their home stating that he could no longer permit his wife to suffer.

The complete story is online at the The Post Gazette.

This is just so sad.

Christmas 2007--Making Memories

2007-12-28T18:23:00.000-05:00

Here are just a few of our Christmas 2007 memories.
Katie holding her butterfly doll from Two Feather.

Mom opening sweatshirt.

Angel with pants we bought her.

Mom with her velvet coloring pictures from Stacey.

Me with bath set from Stacey.

Mom with jogging suit from Angel, Tim and Katie.

Katie opening present from Stacey.

Still unwrapping.

Of course, it's always been known that the boxes are the best presents of all.

One of these days I'll have to learn from Terry how to make one of those slide shows so these pictures don't take up so much room. LOL

To Cinnamin

2007-12-27T22:09:00.000-05:00

We’ve all been lighting candles for the past few weeks for Cinnamin’s mom. Last night between 12:30 and 1:00 AM Cin lost her Mom to Alzheimer’s.

You were an angel to your mom, Cin. You’re a wonderful daughter. Hugs for the strength and courage you showed through this journey.

Know that you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers during this difficult time.

Christmas—The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

2007-12-27T21:33:00.000-05:00

For those who want to read nothing but peace and goodwill, and want to see a pretty picture of a family at a dinner table, all showing love to each other, you may as well stop reading now. Family died with Dad.

It’s over and I’m done.
Bending over backwards to please others is over and I’m done getting screwed.

I’ve written about a few of the petty goings-on with this so-called family, but I’ve kept quiet about a lot of the lack of respect and ignorance I’ve tolerated. That ends here too!

Ray, my so-called brother, hasn’t bothered to call or visit Mom in four months. Why? He tells everyone it’s because of me. He says I’m keeping him from seeing Mom. That’s a lie. The truth is, he doesn’t have time for her if visiting isn’t at his convenience, and four months ago, after his wife screamed at me on the phone accusing me of not letting him see her, we put a fence line up on the edge of Mom’s property. He did have time to hire an attorney to send a letter to Mom and me four months ago threatening legal action, though. Threatening me for trespassing on what is really Mom’s property that he is trying to claim as his, and threatening Mom with legal action to take that property he’s trying to claim. Nice son, huh!

Because of his and his wife’s attorney letter addressed to my mom, it was against my better judgment to bend over backwards to make arrangements for this so-called son to spend time with Mom on Christmas. But I did make those arrangements and I’m sorry I bothered, because I broke Mom’s trust. I’ll never do that again! So, here was my Christmas…

The Good

Christmas morning was wonderful. Two came down from our house and we sat upstairs enjoying our morning coffee until it was time to wake up Mom. I got Mom up and got her into the shower without a problem, made her breakfast and the three of us sat and talked until Angel, Tim, and Katie came to visit and open gifts. Mom enjoyed watching Katie open her gifts. She enjoyed opening her own gifts as well. Stacey sent a box from Alabama and Mom loved the new sweatshirt, handkerchiefs, and two black velvet pictures to color. Angel, Tim, and Katie bought Mom a new jogging suit and blouse. Two Feather and I bought her a new sweatshirt, blouse, pajamas, socks, emery boards, and chap stick. Stacey called from Alabama while Angel was there so she was able to talk to everyone.

Two left around 11:00 to go back to the house and wait on his dad and step-mom to come. Angel, Tim, and Katie left around noon and headed over to Tim’s parents to open gifts with them.

Around 1:00 Two, his dad, and step-mom came down to Mom’s and ate our early dinner with us. Mom met them a few years ago when we went to Two’s Dad’s house for a visit. She recognized their faces as being familiar, but she didn’t remember the trip. They stayed until 3:00 and left to finish their day. It was a beautiful morning and afternoon.

The Bad

This is where the day turned a bit sour. Mom was sitting content and comfortable in her chair in the living room and Ray came at 3:30 to take her to his house for dinner.

“Mom, Ray wants to take you up to his house for dinner for Christmas.”
“I don’t want to go up there.”
“It’s Christmas, Mom. He wants you to go to his house for dinner and spend some time with you.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to go up there.”

Ray heard this conversation from the dining room.

“Where is he? On the phone?”
“No, Mom. He’s here.”
“Humph.”
“You don’t want to come up for dinner? Why not? Pat’s there. Toby and Mandy and the kids will be there,” Ray said.
“Oh, you’re here. I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“I know it’s been too long. I missed you,” Ray said.
“Yeah, you’d never know it.” Mom was irritated.
“So, you want to come to dinner?”
“Not really.”

Stupid me, trying to keep an argument from starting said, “Oh Mom, You’ll have fun once you’re there. They haven’t seen you for a long time.”
“I know they haven’t,” she said, glaring at me.

While Ray put her coat on her she glared at me the whole time. Piercing angry eyes, pleading for me to stop the process that was taking place. I knew if I didn’t encourage her to go I would have had an argument with Ray. I should have let the argument happen rather than put my Mom in a position to go somewhere she didn’t want to go.

She walked with her walker to the door turning and looking at me with those piercing angry and pleading eyes. My heart broke as she turned with tears in her eyes asking for a kiss and hug before she left. “I’ll miss you,” she said.
“You won’t have time to miss me, Mom. You won’t be gone that long.”

Twice, before she made it off the porch she asked for a hug and kiss and held me like she didn’t want to let go. Ray slung the diaper bag over his shoulder and Mom was at the edge of the porch and the walker rolled off the steps and crashed to the sidewalk.

“Stand there, Mom,” Ray said.
“I'll hold Mom while you get the walker, Ray.” I tried to say it as nicely as I could letting him know he shouldn’t leave her standing alone.

He tossed the diaper bag into the car and grabbed Mom’s arm to walk her to the car. I picked up the walker and folded it so he could put it in his car.

“Ray, she needs to use the walker at your house and she’ll need help in the bathroom, and not by you because that’s not appropriate.”

He nodded.

Mom made it to the car with Ray holding her arm telling her, “I’ve got you.” She went to get into the car and instead of sitting in the seat she fell into the seat.

“Well, you didn’t have me very good, did you,” she said to Ray angrily.

All I could think was, good grief, he hasn’t even left the driveway yet and already her walker went flying and she fell into the seat of the car. Is she going to come back in one piece?

As Ray walked around the car I said, “I’m holding you responsible for her while she’s with you. If anything at all happens to her, you call my cell phone immediately.”

“We’ll be OK, won’t we?” he asked me. He was nervous.

“If you listen to what I’ve told you, you’ll be fine.”

Mom waived at me from the car. Her face was filled with anger, hurt, sadness—and exhaustion.

Two came down to pick me up and we went to my house. All I kept thinking was that I didn’t stand up for Mom’s wishes as I normally do. I was sending her off with a son who hadn’t bothered with her for four months. She was going to spend an evening with a family of strangers. People—her grandson, his wife and great grandchildren who live 10 minutes away and haven’t talked to her or visited her since last Christmas. People, who have no clue that Mom can sit and talk to them as if she knows them, yet wonder who they are the whole time she’s talking.

Two tried to take my mind off my Mom by turning on a movie. It was an excellent movie—Black Cloud, about an Indian boxer. It ended at 6:30 and Ray called at 7:00 to tell me he was bringing Mom home. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” he said. I knew it would take longer. It takes that long to get Mom from the house to the car. Two and I went back down to Mom’s house and sat at the kitchen table waiting.

The Ugly

Ray pulled in at 7:30. When Mom came in the door her eyes filled with tears. Whether the tears were relief of being home or distress from being away, I wasn’t sure, but I soon found out. I could see the exhaustion on her face.

“Are you OK, Mom?” I asked. She didn’t answer. She pursed her lips to keep from crying.

“Are you OK, Mother?” Two asked as I guided her to her chair at the table.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m tired. I’m glad it’s over.”

Ray went back out to the car to get the diaper bag and gifts.

I gave Mom a hug and asked if she had a good time. She looked at the door as Ray walked in and said, “I’m not doing that again.”

He set a bag on the floor and said there were a few pieces of pie in the bag and a few lottery tickets, a gift card, and some chocolate.

“Ray, you understand and remember me saying that this was a one time thing with Mom being up this late—that I’m not changing her schedule but this one time. This is too hard on her. She’s exhausted.”
“I thought you said she could come up for dinner on Sundays.”
“I did, and that’s only if Mom wants to go and if you change your dinner time to fit her schedule.”
He wasn’t happy with that, and looked at Mom for her to disagree. Mom looked up at him and said, “Yes, I’m tired.”
“I'll call you,” Ray said as he headed for the door.

Just before he walked out the door, Two Feather said, “Hey Ray, don’t you have something to say to Joanne?”
“I already said Merry Christmas.”
“Something other than that?” Two asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”
“Oh yeah, thanks for letting me see Mom,” Ray said as he closed the door and left.

Mom grabbed Two’s hand and said, “Thank you. I’m glad you said that.”

Ray wasn’t even off the porch before Mom said, “I’m never doing that again!” She was angry…at me.

“Why Mom? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t you ever make me go there again. I didn’t want to go.”
“Then you have to tell Ray that so I don’t get accused of keeping him from you.”
“I did say I didn’t want to go!” she yelled. “You didn’t stop him!”
“No, I didn’t stop him. I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want an argument on Christmas. From now on, I promise you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. But this was Christmas,” I said.

“If I’m around next Christmas, I’m not going and if you make me go, I’m moving out of here! If it wasn’t for that lady, Pat, I wouldn’t have had anyone to talk to.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

So there it is. I tried to make Christmas enjoyable for everyone and all I succeeded doing was making my mom angry with me by breaking her trust in me.

I’ve been living with Mom and taking care of her for three years for her health, safety, welfare, and dignity. Until now, I’ve held to her wishes. I went against my better judgment to give an “I” person what he wanted. There is no “I” in mother. Mother ends with “her.” It should be all about HER.

Maybe I should have called you at one, two, three, and four o’clock in the morning when Mom woke up asking nonexistent people in her bedroom, “Where’s Joanne? Why isn’t she here for dinner?”

Maybe you can explain that to her. I can’t.

From this point on, whether people understand or not, there is no changing HER schedule for anyone. For this so-called family who claim they want to ‘see’ her—you’ll have to call or visit HER in HER house on HER schedule. If you can’t do that you’re not much of a family, are you?

It’s over and I’m done.

Two Feather—The Problem Solver

2007-12-23T16:43:00.000-05:00

It’s been difficult for me to get into the holiday spirit. On-going family issues that just should not be happening and wondering how I’m going to make time for everyone to see Mom has put a damper on any good feeling I have about this holiday.

In one last effort to try to make things right, I called my brother, Ray, yesterday morning and left a message for him to call me back.

I went on with my plans and took Mom to Angel’s house around 2:00 to bake and decorate cutout cookies. Ray called me back while we were there. I asked if he was planning to visit with Mom on Christmas since he hasn’t come around or called for four months. He said he hadn’t planned on it, because of me, but he would like to see her. I asked Ray if I hadn’t called to make these arrangements if he would have bothered calling. He admitted he wouldn’t have. I told him I’d keep Mom up a little longer on Christmas Eve so he could visit after she got home from day care, and he said he’d have to check with his wife and call me back.

Mom and I were at Angel’s house for only about an hour and a half and I took her home. When we got home, I called Two Feather to let him know we were back and told him my brother called me back. Two Feather told me to call him after I got Mom in bed because he wanted to come down and talk to me about something.

When Two Feather came down, he told me that while Mom and I were at Angel’s house, he went up to talk to Ray. He asked him if he’d received my message yet and Ray told him no. Two Feather said he was there to make peace and told Ray that I had called to make arrangements to set a time for him to visit with Mom. He also told Ray that the lies about me trying to keep him from seeing Mom needed to stop. Two Feather told Ray that five years ago when he met my older brother, Bob, he asked Two Feather to take care of me, and he is taking care of me—from this point on if anyone messes with Joanne ever again, physically or mentally, they have to deal with him. He told Ray that I was doing fine taking care of Mom, but all the other family nonsense was making me sick and everything that has been going on hasn’t been about keeping him from his mother. He told Ray that calling me names had to stop. Ray told Two Feather he appreciated him coming to talk with him. Two shook his hand in the Indian way expecting my brother to hold to his word from this point on.

I’ve said before that Two Feather always finds a way to solve a problem and he’ll either leave you with a smile on your face or something to think about. It didn’t surprise me that he took it upon himself to try to make peace during a holiday he doesn’t celebrate. To Two Feather people should gift others with kindness and gratitude every day of the year, not just on one day. Everyday is Christmas.

When Ray didn’t call me back, Two and I sat and talked about other options. I called Ray this morning and told him that since it’s Christmas and I’m trying to make everyone happy, Mom could go off her normal schedule for one day so she could have Christmas dinner with him. He could pick her up at 3:30, spend a few hours with her before they had their dinner at 5:30, have dinner, and still spend some time with her after dinner.

Yes, Mom is normally getting in bed at the time they’ll be eating dinner, and she’ll be tired, but I guess it’s better to see her tired than not at all.

No matter what adversities we meet, Two Feather is always the problem solver. It’s just his way.

Peace is the best present I could receive right now and Two Feather has gifted me greatly.

Two Feather, thank you for that, and I thank the Creator for sending Two Feather down my path just prior to the time when I would need someone like this the most. I’m sure my Dad is smiling now. So, Two Feather…Wado. Gv Ge Yu I (This means, Thank you, I love you.)

Thinking Too Much and Loving All Of You

2007-12-17T21:42:00.000-05:00

Lately I’ve been thinking far too much. Thinking can get me in trouble and opening my mouth about what I think gets me into much more trouble than just thinking. Many of my caregiver friends have lost their loved ones to Alzheimer’s and now they are grieving their loss and trying to find a new purpose in life. They are very special to me. They came into my life when I didn’t know where else to turn and became my friends and became family. They are so fragile right now; I worry about all of them.

Betsy, Lori, Nancy, Flinty, and Stef, I watch, read, and listen to all of you and my heart breaks each day for you, wondering if you’re all okay and how you’re holding up.

Flinty makes me think even more than I do already with his deep and thought-provoking posts. I like that! Stef makes me think about when I was her age and how I handled situations and I find she’s very mature for her age. Betsy, Nancy, and Lori always come around to support everyone sharing their thoughts and advice, and no matter how down they may feel, they always seem to add a touch of humor. I just want to thank all of you for being the kind, caring, considerate, and loving people you are.

Here we were, a group of caregivers, all fragile in our own little way, who came together to cheer each other on, give support, and help guide each other in the right direction, and we all found that there is no “right” direction—except move forward moment by moment. We did find each other, and what we found was a group of people who know how to care, know how to love, and know how to give of themselves when there seems to be nothing left to give.

I wish I could comfort each and every one of you personally because I’ve grown so fond of you, your words, your lives, and your strength.

Strength is something I thought I was full of, but I’m finding more strength from everyone’s caring and loving words than I find in myself. Now, I just think I’m full…of what, I don’t know. You can fill in the blank however you see fit. :)

I find strength from Rick’s posts as well. He makes me laugh when I least expect it and his comments are sometimes hilarious and sometimes touching. No matter which they are, they always seem to fit for the mood I’m in at the moment. Thank you for that, Rick. You’re a great guy and your mom is lucky to have you.

As for Gale and Dave, and those I may have missed—your loved ones are so very lucky to have you as well. Everyone’s posts are so thoughtful, caring, and loving. I guess I’m feeling a bit strange tonight because I’m thinking of all of you, all at once.

I think of Cinnamin right now, who is pacing, wondering, and worrying, and I know how hard that is for her—how hard it was for all of you. I did the same thing when my dad was near death. My heart breaks for all of you, yet my heart knows that you are going to get past this and continue to care, love, and give to those who are still close to you. Cin, my thoughts are with you and my candle is lit.

Tonight, I lit a candle for each and every one of you wonderful people. May the light that shines from those candles shed some brightness in your life and light the way to your dreams.

What I’d like to give to each and every one of you is my utmost respect. I can’t think of a better group of people who deserve it. I can only hope I’ve been there for you as you have all been there for me. Thank you for being you. I love you all!

My Poor Little Sweetheart

2007-12-17T19:56:00.000-05:00

With everything else that’s been going on, I failed to mention that Stacey called me early Friday evening. I swear my girls have this little test they give me now and then to see if I’m paying attention. I can always tell by the sound of their voices whether something is wrong or if they call just to talk. One of these days one of them is going to give me a heart attack. Normally when the “something is wrong” voice is on the other end of the phone and I ask them what’s wrong, the answer is either “I just wrecked my car” or “I’m at the ER.”

Well, Stacey’s response Friday evening was, “I’m at the ER.” My grandson, Quenton, fell at the day care and banged his face on the toilet in the bathroom. He had to have five stitches. My poor little sweetheart. I feel horrible for him and Stacey. I know she had calmed down before she called me because she wasn’t in tears and I didn’t have to ask, “What?! What happened?! Are you OK?!”

Stacey, I hope Quenton is feeling better by now. Give him a big hug and kiss from grandma.

Safely Home by Priests of the Sacred Heart

2007-12-16T20:46:00.000-05:00

I normally don’t talk about or post religious things but this has me stymied. I cleaned off Mom’s dresser on Saturday and the only things left on it were her jewelry box, a few pictures of her and Dad, her handkerchiefs, and her hairbrush and comb.

This morning, the same things were on the dresser as were last night. I spent the entire day with Mom, never leaving her side. She never went to her bedroom all day and we had no visitors.

This evening, when I put her to bed, I found a card on her dresser. This card was not even part of the mess I cleaned off her dresser. It’s an old yellowed card from the Priests of the Sacred Heart Monastery that my dad used to contribute to each year.

Here is the front of the card.

The back had this poem on it. I don’t know if it was a sign or if it was just there to be shared. It touched me, so I thought I’d share it with all of you. It says so much about death, grieving, and life.

Safely Home

I am home in Heaven, dear ones;
Oh, so happy and so bright!
There is perfect joy and beauty
In this everlasting light.

All the pain and grief is over,
Every restless tossing passed;
I am now at peace forever,
Safely home in Heaven at last.

Did you wonder I so calmly
Trod the valley of the shade?
Oh! But Jesus’ arm to lean on,
Could I have one doubt or dread?

Then you must not grieve so sorely,
For I love you dearly still:
Try to look beyond earth’s shadows,
Pray to trust our Father’s Will.

There is work still waiting for you,
So you must not idly stand;
Do it now, while life remaineth—
You shall rest in Jesus’ land.

When that work is all completed,
He will gently call you Home;
Oh, the rapture of that meeting,
Oh, the joy to see you come!

Someone Took Over The Dance Floor

2007-12-16T20:01:00.000-05:00

I didn’t get the presents wrapped as I planned after I logged off last night. Instead, I spent the evening, and most of the night, sitting in a chair by my mom’s bed calming her down. Apparently she was dreaming of this Mr. N., again. Not such sweet dreams this time, though. She was already to get dressed and go to “club” to fight the new lady who’s making moves on this guy. I guess this woman was dancing with Mr. N. in Mom’s dream and Mom wasn’t happy with how the whole dance went. “She shouldn’t be acting like that with him,” Mom said.

Mom’s totally forgotten that Mr. N. is married. She wouldn’t give him the time of day, other than friendly talk, if she didn’t have this mind-stealing disease Alzheimer’s. I told Mom it’s nice to have friends at club, but she can’t very well get angry at another woman when, in fact, Mr. N. shouldn’t be acting that way with either one of them because he’s married. That didn’t matter; according to Mom, the new woman is married, too. Mom has no concept of marriage anymore, either. Oh brother!

I finally got her calmed down when I said, “Mom, you’re 84, you’d look pretty silly fighting with another woman over a man.” I think some part of her “old self” snuck back into her head for a few seconds because she said, “yeah, I don’t want to make an ass of myself.” I’m not sure whether she thought she’d make an ass of herself because she was considering fighting, or because he is married. Either way, it was a long night. She was up every hour angry with this other woman who’s taking over the dance floor. On the brighter side of this whole night without sleep—she didn’t remember any of it in the morning.

It’s been a cold and blustery day. First it snowed, then it rained, then it snowed again. The ground is covered.

This morning when we ate breakfast, Mom mentioned how tired I looked and I simply said I didn’t sleep well. :) I didn’t mention anything of what went on during the night and I didn’t mention that there was a pot in the middle of the dining room floor catching water either. Yes, just one more thing to FIX. The house has a new roof, so I can’t imagine where the water is coming in. Must be a slow leak or loose flashing near the dormer. As soon as the temperature changed and it started snowing, the leak stopped and I was able to remove the pot before Mom got up. Guess we have a spot on the roof that will need fixed and a dining room ceiling that will need spackling and painted soon.

Mom colored in her coloring book for a good portion of the day. I sat in my chair near her in the living room trying to strike up a conversation. Even tried to get her to play with dominoes but she was having a difficult time with how that game goes. We ended up with tiles stretching from one end of the table to the other with no specific end. She won, though, because she was the first to use all her tiles. We colored together the rest of the afternoon until it was time for me to make dinner.

I watched the wind pick up snow and twirl it off the barn roof and blow it onto the ground. A chill went through me each time I looked out the window. As a writer, my imagination can sometimes make me literally feel the things I see. I’m looking forward to crawling under warm blankets tonight and hoping for a good night’s sleep. I hope that’s not in my writer’s imagination, too.

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

2007-12-15T17:56:00.000-05:00

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas ...at least outside!

This is Perry Como in 1958. I got a kick out of watching the video since I remember the old black and white shows. Thought you might enjoy it too. Sorry for the link, but I don't know how to post the YouTube box right on the blogger.

I have to get myself out of this slump I’m in, so the only thing I can think to do is force myself to get things done. Last night I made a list of things to do today and Sunday and I’ve nearly completed the list already.

First thing on the list was Mom’s shower. This morning when I got Mom out of bed we headed straight for the bathroom. She wasn’t very pleased that she had to take a shower and wash her hair again, but cleaning up at the sink just doesn’t do the job. She was a bit more agreeable with taking the shower when I told her she was beginning to smell. “I don’t want that,” she said. She didn’t say anything during the shower except that she was cold, and of course the heater was blasting and I was sweating. ;)

When she was clean and dry I weighed her. In September when she was in the hospital she weighed 171. On November 19 when she was at the doctor she weighed 153—a loss of 18 pounds in two months. This morning she weighed 142—down another 11 pounds. She’s lost 29 pounds since September 18—that’s approximately 10 pounds a month. As the doctor suggested, I’ve been giving her Carnation Instant Breakfast, Ensure, puddings, and yogurt. She’s still feeding herself, but she doesn’t eat much. He told me at the last appointment not to bother with the diabetic diet anymore because at this point I just need to try to keep giving her nourishment and he’d rather see her glucose levels a bit higher than to have them plunge to lower dangerous levels. Even with all the weight loss she looks great.

The second thing on the list was to clean off all the junk on Mom’s dresser and throw away all the old lotions, bottles of old nail polish, lipstick, and fragrances that have done nothing but collect dust on her vanity for the past three years. Once I sorted through all that and threw out what wasn’t needed I gave both the dresser and vanity a good dusting.

Next on the list was to go through her clothes closet. Since she’s lost weight, I slid all the clothes that are too big into the back corner of the closet and took all those she can now fit into and threw them in the washing machine. She now has a whole new wardrobe to wear. LOL

She’s not reading anymore, so I took all the piles of books beneath her roll-top desk in her bedroom, put them in boxes, and placed them on the sun porch with the rest of her books.

Then I sat down with her at the kitchen table and addressed Christmas cards. She signed a few and didn’t want to do it anymore, so I finished the rest.

After finishing the cards, Mom and I went into the living room and I put her small tabletop tree on the end table. I put a few ornaments on and asked her to finish it. She only put two ornaments on and was tired and had to sit down.

I’ll probably find another string of blinking lights and a bit of garland and put them on tomorrow. She still didn’t grasp the whole Christmas thing, but she liked watching me “work” as she called it. LOL She watched me put the rest of the ornaments on and she wanted to go to bed.

The last thing on my list is wrapping the presents that I bought yesterday. I’ll wrap all those after I post this and I’ll be finished. I doubt I’ll decorate much more. All my shopping is finished and I even have a turkey breast and ham in the freezer for Christmas dinner and pork for New Year’s. Figured I’d better get all the fixings for both meals because I’m not sure how the weather will be in the next couple weeks to go shopping again.

It’s snowing right now. So far we already have about an inch, maybe more. I haven’t ventured outside to check, but I suppose it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but it's still not feeling much like it.

I Hate This Disease!

2007-12-14T18:36:00.000-05:00

Mom received more Christmas cards today. One from my brother, Bob and his wife, one from my daughter, Angel and her family, one from Ardis, and one from Gale our GLO member. Thank you, Gale, Mom thought it was nice of you to send a card to someone you don’t know. :) Mom knew Angel and Tim but couldn’t remember Katie’s name even though it was on the card, she wasn’t sure who the other cards were from, so I went through the conversation again.

I watched her go through all the cards again today and she opened the new ones. She doesn’t bother to read them; she just looks to see who they are from and puts them down. I asked her if she knew what the cards were for and she said, “no.” When I told her they were Christmas cards, she said, “oh.” She does not even understand what Christmas is at this point. I knew it was coming, but that doesn't make it any easier. That's why I wanted everyone to come for Christmas two years ago.

My thoughts and prayers go out to all who have lost their loved ones and are going through a difficult time during this holiday season. I’ve lit a candle for all of you and also for those who are still caring and especially Cinnamin and her family who are so close to the end. Hugs to you all. Please know that I’m thinking of you.

Have I said I hate Alzheimer’s? I’m sure I have, at least a thousand times.

I HATE THIS DISEASE!!!!!

Christmas Shopping, Christmas Cards and Who’s …?

2007-12-12T20:20:00.000-05:00

Mom received several cards yesterday. She didn’t know who they were from.

The conversation went like this:

Look Mom, here’s a card from Bill.

Who’s Bill?

He was the best man at your wedding.

Why can’t I remember that?

Here’s one from Alma.

Who’s Alma?

Ardis’ sister.

Who’s Ardis?

Boot’s mom.

Who’s Boots?

Bob’s wife.

Who’s Bob?

Bob is my brother, your son.

It’s heartbreaking to know that she’s fading away day by day. Bob just called this weekend, too. But that didn’t ring a bell either.

Today she received two more cards.

Here’s a card from Larry.

He’s a cousin, isn’t he?

Yes, Mom. He’s your cousin.

Here’s one from Kary.

Who’s Kary?

Bob’s daughter.

Who’s Bob.

We went through all the cards and the same conversation all over again. By the time she asked, “Who’s so and so” for the fourth time, she literally laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes. After we went through the cards again, we were both laughing so hard she put the cards aside. Then she said, “It’s nice of these people to send cards whoever they are.”

I pulled out a box of Christmas cards and got ready to start addressing them to those who sent to her. She said, “I’m not sending cards to people I don’t know. What are these cards for anyway?”

I set the box of cards aside. My heart just wasn’t in it.

Two has been trying, but even with all the shopping and wrapping I still can’t seem to get into the Christmas spirit. Gee, I wonder why. It’s difficult trying to celebrate a holiday when Mom seems to have lost the concept of everything. Thanksgiving came and went and she had no clue what Thanksgiving was. I don’t think Christmas is going to be much different.

On another note: The 12 days of hell weren’t all bad. My daughter, Angel, visited both weekends and we enjoyed spending time with her, Katie and Tim. Katie is growing so fast and picking up so many new words. It’s always a joy to have them visit and Mom enjoys watching Katie play with the pillows on her couch and look through magazines.

On December 7th, Two and I celebrated our fifth year together by going out for breakfast, and we spent the day shopping. Two saved his money from his last four wood sales and managed to get all his Christmas shopping done for his six kids and seven grandchildren and his parents. We also bought presents for my daughter, Stacey, her husband, Dennis and her three kids, Trinity, Quenton, and Deandre, in Alabama. We wrapped everything and sent all the presents Monday. I still have to buy for Angel, Katie and Tim and Mom and Two. I probably wouldn’t have all Stacey’s family bought for already if it wasn’t that I had to mail everything.

Trinity surprised me with a phone call last week. She sounds so grown up on the phone. She wanted to know what size shirt Two wears so she could get him something for Christmas. I thought that was so sweet.

I’ve yet to visit Stacey and the kids in Alabama and I still haven’t seen their house. It’s not a trip I can take Mom along on. Two never gets to see his kids either, unless they come here. The trip to see them is too much for Mom as well. He sacrifices so much to support me in taking care of Mom. He’s yet to see two of his grandchildren.

Oh yes, in case you lost count, between the two of us, Two and I have eight kids and 10 grandchildren and one on the way. We’re getting old! LOL I just hope that he and I are not too old to make the trip to visit everyone when this journey is over.

One more thing: I did manage to get a few books read in the wee hours of the morning when Mom was up and down. So, I’ll be posting a few more book reviews as soon as I type them up from my handwritten versions.

And...Yay! The furnace is finally fixed.

Twelve Days of Hell…

2007-12-11T13:31:00.000-05:00

And I thought it was supposed to be close to the Twelve Days of Christmas. HA!!

Sorry to have worried everyone by my lack of posts. Thank you all so much for your posts of concern here and emails sent. Really, Mom’s fine. I’m fine…just totally frustrated and exhausted, and I didn’t want to write and be accused of “whining” by cretins (not you Alz and AW pals), who think they know everything.

Where do I start? Oh yes, the furnace. The furnace is still on the fritz. We thought it was fixed, but it stopped working again, and again, and again. Poor Tom, the furnace man, has been out here going on a dozen times to get it working. I feel bad for him. It runs for a while, quits, and won’t fire back up. He changed one part and after installing it found out the new part had a factory defect as well. Got another one and the furnace worked another two days. Can’t be that new part! Found out there was sludge in the fuel and the nozzle was plugged now too. He treated the fuel oil. It ran for about four days after a treatment then quit again. We put straight kerosene into the tank to thin the sludge. It ran two days and quit. This morning, Tom replaced the fuel line from the tanks to the furnace because they were plugged. It ran five minutes and quit. Now, poor Tom is frustrated too. He’s getting another new different part right now, and we’ll see if that makes a difference. We’re both frustrated with this furnace, and of course the darn thing quits during the night when the weather is at the coldest temperatures. Ice cubes anyone?

In between the furnace issues, I called on November 23 (before any snow) to make an appointment for a local mobile tire company to come put new winter tires on the car on November 29. They didn’t show up or call because (of course we got snow on the 28th), they had a slew of emergency calls. A courtesy call would have been nice. I called them the next day and they rescheduled for Tuesday, December 4. Waited all day, no show, no call. Called around to get prices elsewhere and no one had the tire in stock. Called them back on the 5th (now we have a snowstorm), to find out when they would be out to install the tires and they told me to come into the shop and they would put them on. So, finally, by 3:30 December 5th I have winter tires on the vehicle and have 30 minutes to pick up Mom. :D

All the while in between all this, I’ve been dealing with these crazy night visits by some nasty old woman Mom keeps seeing. I guess she got tired of Mr. N., and we’re back to the old woman. Either way, I wish they’d both go visit someone else so I can get some sleep. I’ve been trying to catch a few hours sleep at home while Mom is at day care, but that’s not working out well because I’m not one who is able to sleep during the day no matter how tired I am. Have a call into her doctor to see if there’s anything he can recommend for her to take to get some sleep and get rid of these visitors. (I wouldn’t mind so much if they would do some housecleaning, errands, and work while they’re here. LOL Yes, that was my attempt of being humorous.)

Then, since it’s been doing nothing but raining in between the cold and snow, we have a muddy mess in the driveway. So we had to call in for gravel to keep from sinking in the mud. That seems to be packing in fairly well so in the next few days we’ll be calling for more to give the driveway a better base.

And then, we have to deal with those hunters Betsy mentioned. You would think that people who post their own land with no trespassing signs would not trespass on someone else’s property to shoot a deer. But…no, we have ignorant people who not only trespassed off their property onto ours, shot the deer, drug it on our property down a gully, across my neighbor’s front yard, down our driveway, and had their buddies pick them up at the bottom of our drive. Of course, I know who they are but I couldn’t do anything because they pulled all this while I was picking up Mom. When I got back I saw the truck pulling out of our driveway, I saw the bloody drag marks everywhere, but they were long gone before I could get the license number and make of the truck. I can’t stand ignorant people who think the law only applies to others or when it’s convenient for them.

On top of that, I have a friend who is going through a very rough time right now and she has me worried sick. I won’t go into detail about it, but please keep her in your thoughts.

So, I’m sitting here typing with finger-tip-less gloves, freezing my rear end off, waiting for the furnace to be fixed, worrying about my friend, hoping Mr. N., and the nasty old woman finds someone else to visit, wishing it were spring, and wondering if I’ll ever catch up on the sleep I’ve lost. Other than that, it’s the same old thing on a different day.

And…I haven’t decorated for Christmas. Merry Christmas everyone!

Alzheimer's Patients Still Have Feelings and Still Love

2007-11-29T20:49:00.000-05:00

Retired Supreme Court justice Sandra Day O'Connor's husband has had Alzheimer’s for more than 17 years. Recently she moved him into an assisted living facility where he’s met and fallen in love with another Alzheimer’s patient.

In this article, “Forgetting long-time bonds, Alzheimer's patients fall in love” Rubin Dessel, head of memory care services at the Hebrew Home care facility in New York, said he “can't quantify how often this type of situation occurs, but it will continue to occur in greater number as the years go by.”

People with Alzheimer’s lose their memory day by day; they live moment-to-moment forgetting their past, their children, even their spouses.

Though Dessel can’t put a percentage on the incidence of Alzheimer’s patients forgetting their loved ones and moving on to another relationship, he is correct in stating that it does occur and will continue to occur.

Caring for a loved one with Alzheimer’s is heartbreaking in itself, and I applaud O’Connor’s love for her husband, which allows her to feel somewhat relieved seeing him happy and enjoying life with another woman. It takes selfless people to care more about someone else’s feelings than their own.

My mom is a widow of nearly 10 years. I feel that if I hadn’t stayed close by her after my dad died, she probably wouldn’t be around today. I kept her active. We went everywhere and did everything together. We went to homemakers together; seven to ten women my mother’s age, and me, thirty years younger, sat around tables in the community room above the police station for three to four hours once a month making crafts, eating lunch, and sharing conversation and memories. Why did I attend a monthly meeting with women so much older than me? Because my mom wanted me to be there; she enjoyed my company and wanted to share as much time with me as possible.

Then, together, Mom and I shopped for groceries, Christmas presents, went to lunch, the hairdresser, took bus tours, spent days cooking meals and cookies, and spent hours at each other’s homes just talking. She came to my house for dinner at least twice a week and we even took our dogs to the vet and to be groomed at the same time and scheduled our dentist appointments back to back.

She once told me that my brother told her she “needed to get out more and do things with friends” and my mom responded that she “did get out and do things and was happy spending time with me.” In return, she was told, “But she’s your daughter, not your friend.” Mom told me she was angry and hurt by his response and said, “Joanne may be my daughter, but she’s also my best friend.”

Now, Mom with Alzheimer’s spends the day at a day care facility where she gets her hair done once a month, has lunch and goes on outings with other clients, and I shop for groceries and presents and take the dogs for appointments without her.

What does all this have to do with Sandra Day O’Connor? Mom has an admirer at the day care; a bus brings Mr. N. to the facility while his wife goes off to work. Mom’s talked about him daily for the past year and giggles like a school girl when she talks about how they dance together every week when the ‘music man’ comes to play oldies from their era. When the caregivers at the facility first told me about the little romance, my heart broke because she had forgotten my dad, but I soon got over that when I saw how full of life and happy she seemed to be. When I saw them dance together at this summer’s family picnic, I cried, not because she forgot my dad, but because she was enjoying herself—life had meaning to her once again.

Mom and Mr. N. sat together occasionally and chatted since the first day I took her to day care. Those little chats have transformed into handholding and kisses on the cheek. He pulls her chair out for her and asks her constantly if she’s okay.

This past Thanksgiving weekend Mom woke up several times during the night and thought Mr. N. was in her house. She sat on the edge of the bed talking toward the doorway of her bedroom. When I heard her through the monitor I went downstairs to find out what she was talking about. She swore up and down that Mr. N. was there and she wouldn’t have invited him over if she thought he would have come so late. Five times she awoke each night saying the same thing. For three nights I told her she was dreaming and tucked her back into bed.

It was on Tuesday, my mom and dad’s anniversary, that the caregivers told me that my mom and Mr. N. talked about ‘going out’ to lunch or a movie and since neither of them can drive any longer, maybe ‘Mrs. N.’ could take them where they want to go. It all sounds so strange, and of course the date will never happen, but for the moment they are talking about it, they are happy.

I told the caregivers at the day care about my weekend with Mom and I joked, “If I had known this before Thanksgiving, I would have sent Mom home on the bus with Mr. N. over Thanksgiving weekend and let ‘Mrs. N.’ deal with Mom’s three-night long conversation with her husband.”

It wasn’t so cute at 4:00 AM when I was dealing with it, but now that I’ve had a chance to catch up on some sleep, I smile at the thought that my mom is acting like a school girl and is smitten by someone, who when I look at him closely, has many of my dad’s features. I’m not sure if ‘Mrs. N.’ feels as O’Connor does, but I’m happy for them. I’ll always be Mom’s daughter, but it looks like Mom has a new best friend—someone she enjoys being with, talking to, and spending her time with. My smile deepens, I’ll admit, when I think of my bother’s hurtful words to my mom years ago. I don’t think he could be so selfless to accept that Mom’s new best friend is a married man.

If we learn one thing as caregivers, we learn that our loved ones still have feelings and they still remember how to love. That may be the only good thing about this disease, as well.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

2007-11-27T19:20:00.000-05:00

Today would have been my mom and dad’s 66th wedding anniversary. Two years ago, when I mentioned the date, Mom was surprised when I said they would have been married 64 years. Last year and this year the date went by without me mentioning it, and without her realizing it. Dates and phone numbers seem to stick in my head. We always celebrated their anniversary at Thanksgiving every year. There won’t be any celebration this year, but I can at least remember for her.

This picture is a wood burning of my mom and dad’s wedding picture. When my daughter, Stacey, was in the Army stationed in Korea, she had it made for Mom and sent it to her for Christmas. Ever since, it's hung over the mantle of the fireplace my dad built in Mom's living room.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Since Thanksgiving I’m finding myself reminiscing more than I’d like to. I treasured the holidays when family used to gather together and I miss those times terribly. It seems since Dad died this family fell apart. Without Dad around, this family hasn’t been any fun and since Mom has had Alzheimer’s there’s no ‘family’ at all. Not in the real sense of the word anyway.

Family used to talk to each other and invite each other to their homes. That hasn’t happened, at least for me, since my dad died. I guess when Dad died, in the eyes of my brothers and nieces and nephew, I died too. No one had to bother with me, unless my mom pitched a fit because I was left out. It got to the point that I told her not to bother because I felt if they 'had to be told' to invite me, they didn't want me around. They made that perfectly clear over the years. The only person who seemed to care what was going on in my life was my mother (other than my daughters, Angel and Stacey, and my Uncle Joe). That used to bother me, a lot. But things have changed. Now...I couldn't care less.

Two years ago, I tried to plan a special Christmas for Mom. I invited both my brothers and told them to pass the invitation to all their family members to come home for Christmas. No one came except my daughters, their families, and Two Feather. Not even a call to say they weren't coming. All I got from the rest of the ‘so-called family’ was excuses, a hard time, and ridicule. For all intents and purposes, that is the last Christmas Mom remembers. That is, if you want to call a lot of prodding and picture showing to bring that memory back, remembering.

Normally, I put up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. It’s still neatly tucked away in the box in which it was packed in 2005 and is sitting in my mom’s basement. I’ll probably have Two Feather take my tree back to my house in the next week or so and have him toss it in the basement to be stored with all the other decorations I doubt I’ll bother with this year. I still haven’t pulled out Mom’s little tree that we used last year. Why bother. I used to love this time of year; now it’s just another day that will go by without Mom ‘really’ knowing what day it is.

Alzheimer’s is a cruel disease. It is taking Mom piece by piece and it is ripping me apart.

As much as I said I had so much to be thankful for at Thanksgiving, I’d just as soon pass on holidays from now on. I hate Alzheimer’s! I hate what it’s doing to my mom. And I hate what it’s doing to me.

I Give Thanks

2007-11-22T19:25:00.000-05:00

The turkey was in the oven and roasting as Mom slept. Two Feather came down and we sat upstairs sipping our morning coffee and talking about the two Thanksgiving dinners I’d prepared at our house. We’d only been together two years when I moved in with Mom to take care of her. Since then, we’ve had all our holiday meals here at her house. We talked about how we were just getting to know each other and learning how to live with each other when I had to move here; and we talked about how we’ll need to learn that all over again when the time comes for me to move back.

I have so much to be thankful for. Not just today, but every day. Every day is difficult for Two Feather and I being apart, but holidays are an especially difficult time. He’s been so very patient with me in my care giving for Mom and I know he’s terribly lonely each evening as he sits in our house alone while I’m down here at Mom’s. I’m so thankful that he’s as understanding and caring as he is. For him, I give thanks; for without him, his support, and his shoulder to cry on, my care giving would be so much more difficult.

I had a very loving and caring father who made so many wonderful memories for me. Everything I know about carpentry, roofing, electrical work, plumbing, butchering, farming, gardening—well everything I know about almost everything, I learned from him. Mom taught me all the ladylike things, like cooking, cleaning, ironing, baking, and canning. They both taught me to be respectful, honest, and true to myself. For my parents, I give thanks. I couldn’t have asked for better parents if I were to pick them out myself.

I miss my dad terribly during the holidays, and in the ten years that he’s been gone; my mom has taken his chair at the head of the table, whether dinner was at my house or hers. Today, as everyone filled their plates with the holiday dinner, I thought how lucky I am to be here—to still be alive to enjoy each and every day with my family, whether it is at a dinner table or a conversation on the phone. Stacey called this morning and wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. Trinity and Quenton got on the phone and I talked to them, too. I give thanks that the Creator allowed me to live to have two wonderful daughters of my own, who in turn gave me grandchildren. For my life, my children, and my grandchildren, I give thanks.

I thought of all my caregiver friends and said a silent prayer for those who would be spending their first Thanksgiving without their loved ones. I wished for them to have a happy holiday knowing that their loved ones are at peace, and hoped they would be surrounded with love. And I wished a “good day” for those who are still caring for their loved ones. For my caregiver friends and all their support, I give thanks. I hope your day was as wonderful as mine was.

Quietly I watched everyone eat dinner; Katie sitting at the table eating with grown up silverware, and everyone adding to their plates. I paid particular attention to Mom. I’d filled Mom’s plate with a little of everything from each bowl, and with each spoonful said a silent prayer of thanks for another day with Mom, my family, and for the food. The most anyone said while eating was how good everything tasted. We were too busy eating to say much else.

Each time Mom took a bite of food she told me everything was delicious and thanked me for making the meal. After each bite she would look up at everyone around the table, look down at her plate, fill her fork, and tell me it was delicious. I watched and listened each time she filled her fork. By the time everyone was finished eating, Mom had finished her whole plate of food, too! She said, “That was delicious, honey. I’m full.” I said, “I’m so proud of you, Mom. That’s the most you’ve eaten in a long time.” She said, “Really?” I said, “Really! And I’m so happy you ate so well.”

I turned my head to hide my tears. Two Feather saw them. I know he knew what the tears were for. Angel and Tim saw them, too. I’m pretty sure they knew why I had tears in my eyes, too.

For Mom eating, I give thanks.

Love you, everyone. Happy Thanksgiving!!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

2007-11-22T08:13:00.000-05:00

Just wanted to come in here and wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. This is a picture of a Tom turkey that was in our yard. Isn't he beautiful!!!

Have a safe, healthy and Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!!

Busy Four Days

2007-11-21T19:42:00.000-05:00

I haven’t posted since Saturday, so I figured I’d better catch everyone up to speed. Sunday Angel, Tim, and Katie moved their belongings into their new house just eight miles from me. I took Mom and Two Feather over about 11:00 AM so Two could help them carry things in. Mom sat on their couch and colored while everyone was walking by carrying furniture and boxes.

Angel asked me to bring my Pack N Play with us so Katie could lie down for her nap because they wouldn’t have time to put the crib together. Tim’s mom fed her lunch and I put her down for her nap. Within minutes of me singing to her, she was sleeping.

Shortly after that about 1:10 we had to leave because Mom was tired. Most everything was moved into the house by then anyway. They were going to get something to eat and go back over to Tim's Mom's house to watch the football game. Angel said they weren’t going to worry about putting things away yet because she was leaving to go back to Mechanicsburg to finish out her job and they weren't staying at the house until tonight. Probably just as well Mom got tired since I wasn’t feeling well.

Monday I had to run over to Angel’s house to let the water meter reader in, then I went back to my house and curled up on the couch still not feeling well. Two Feather moved more wood all day.

I picked Mom up from day care early to take her to her regular doctor’s appointment. It was scheduled for 3:45 but we didn’t get in to see her doctor until 4:00. She was tired and getting impatient waiting. He told me everything seemed to be going as well as could be expected and he wasn’t going to change or add any medications. He did say that if she was having a hard time swallowing that I could crush the pills and open the capsules and put them in her food. I told him I have been doing that for about a month already. He commended me for keeping her in her own home and keeping her active with the day care. “You’re doing a fine job with your mom,” he said. It felt good to hear that from her doctor. He told me I looked tired, asked how I was holding up, and asked if I had gone to any caregiver support group meetings yet. I told him I was doing okay, I hadn’t been to any meetings because they are all in the evening and I have no one to sit with Mom. I told him that I am involved with a group of caregivers online and we do quite well at helping support each other. He was pleased to hear that and told me if I decided to go to meetings personally to let him know and he would get a list out to me. “Without family help, Joanne, you need some type of support,” he added. He said when Mom starts to get weaker and I felt she wasn’t able to go to day care anymore that I was to call him. He reminded me that due to her weight loss hospice would do a re-evaluation and whenever I wanted to have hospice come in to let him know and he would write the prescription for it. I said thank you and would let him know when we get to that point. He wrote up a prescription for blood tests and asked me to have them done before we left, so we went down to the lab and waited an hour and twenty minutes before they finally took the blood needed for her tests. It’s a good thing I thought in advance and had a sandwich and snacks with me so Mom could eat while we waited. She was exhausted and fell asleep in the car. We got home at 7:00 and she couldn’t wait to get in bed. She went to sleep within seconds of her head hitting that pillow.

She must have been really exhausted because she never got up once during the night. I took her to day care on Tuesday and went home and curled up on the couch again because I still wasn’t feeling well. I have this horrible back pain, an aching pain between my shoulder blades that just won’t go away. Last night after Mom was in bed I planned to do some writing but I just didn’t feel up to it. I stretched out on the bed with a heating pad on my back and went to sleep. I have a chiropractor appointment on Tuesday and my PCP appointment right after, so I guess I’ll find out what the root of the problem is then.

Today the pain isn’t any better. The pain was so bad today I nearly passed out, I would have gone to the ER but I have no one to take care of Mom if they decided to admit me. Instead of worrying about it, I do what I always do--made myself busy to keep my mind off of things. I started getting things prepared for tomorrow’s dinner. I made two pumpkin pies and a cherry pie and I baked the green been casserole and candied yams.

Two Feather moved more wood while I was cooking at Mom’s house. He stopped in now and then to make sure I was okay. The house smelled so good with the pies baking we both said we couldn’t wait for Thanksgiving dinner because the aroma was making us hungry. He sat at the table and talked with me for a while and when he felt I didn’t look as pale as I had earlier, he went out to move more wood.

I also peeled potatoes, tore apart three loaves of bread, chopped up celery and onion and mixed the stuffing so it’s ready to stuff the turkey in the morning. All I’ll have to do is get up in the morning, clean, stuff, and cook the bird, put the potatoes on the stove to cook, and brown the dinner rolls. Everything else is done and will just need to be heated.

Today when I picked up Mom at day care I was called aside by the nurse. She said the clients were talking about Thanksgiving and their families and she wanted to let me know what Mom had said. Evidently, Mom told everyone that besides her daughter (me), who takes care of her, she has two sons, but they live out of the country and that’s why she never sees or hears from them. Funny how Alzheimer’s can cause them to make up something in their own minds that’s easier to believe or accept. Truth is her oldest son in North Carolina just called Sunday. It had been three weeks since he called, and her other son, who only lives a spit through the woods hasn’t been to see her since August 25th and hasn’t called since September 21. I guess for her it’s easier to say they live out of the country than to make excuses for them.

I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving dinner. It will be nice to have someone in the house at the dinner table besides just Mom and me for a change. Two Feather, Angel, Tim, and Katie will be there. I’m anxious to see how much Mom will eat. I guess I’m hoping Thanksgiving dinner and all the wonderful aromas will make a difference in her appetite. We’ll see.

The only thing that we’ll be missing at our dinner table is Stacey, Dennis, Deandre, Trinity, and Quenton. We’ll miss you!!! Love you all.

Wishing everyone a very Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!

Happy Birthday Trinity!

2007-11-17T22:36:00.000-05:00

I can’t let the day go by without wishing my oldest granddaughter a very Happy Birthday. I called and talked to her today and she told me she had a fun birthday. She had cake and ice cream and opened a lot of gifts.

She's grown up so much since she stayed with me while Stacey was in Korea. She gets more beautiful every year.

Happy Birthday, Trinity. I love you!

No-bake Oatmeal Cookies

2007-11-17T22:01:00.000-05:00

In an effort to keep Mom busy today we made no-bake cookies. Along with having Alzheimer's, Mom's a diabetic, too, so I substitute diabetic sweetener for the sugar. Of course since Mom can’t use the stove, I melted the butter and mixed all the ingredients that needed to be brought to a boil. When it came time to add the peanut butter and oatmeal I let Mom mix that all together.

Her coordination isn’t what it used to be so it took her a little longer to mix than it normally would have. She had a hard time scooping the cookie mix from the pot and getting it to the waxed paper before it dripped off the spoon. Watching her made me realize how much Mom is progressing with this awful disease. She ended up using her fingers more than the spoon, but all turned out pretty good.

She was so excited when she put the last of the mix on the waxed paper. She said, “I guess I did okay.”

“You did more than okay, Mom,” I said. “These cookies look great.”

She enjoyed making the cookies and was so proud that she was able to do something she hadn't done in many years.

“So when can we eat them?” she asked. I couldn’t help but laugh and when I did, she started laughing too. “We can eat them, can’t we?” she asked, giggling.

I assured her that as soon as they set for a while we could have a few cookies. She was so cute sitting there waiting for them to ‘set’. She kept poking one with a spoon to see if they had hardened enough to pick up to eat.

We waited about 15 minutes and she picked one up and ate it. “They’re good. I’m full,” she said. Mom’s appetite is getting less and less. Her being full after just one small cookie is evidence of that. The sweet tooth she used to have isn’t even working anymore.

I baked a steak in country gravy in the oven along with an acorn squash for dinner. She said it was good, but she ate very little of that too. Twice Blessed wrote in her blog about how people with Alzheimer’s lose weight no matter how well you try to provide them nourishment. That is so true. I guess it's just another part of the brain being impaired that causes the appetite loss. This disease whittles away at the mind and body. Mom weighed 168 pounds in August when she was in the hospital; now she weighs 150. It's heartbreaking to watch our loved ones waste away each day.

I thought I’d share the recipe for those who don’t have it, and for those who may need another idea to add to the list of activities for their loved ones. So here it is.

No-bake Oatmeal Cookies

1 stick of butter
½ cup of milk
2 cups of sugar (can be substituted with diabetic sweetener for diabetics)
5 Tablespoons of cocoa

Cook until it comes to a boil. Remove from heat.

Add and mix:
½ cup of peanut butter
3 cups of oatmeal

Mix together until smooth and creamy. With a teaspoon, spoon onto wax paper.
Wait 15 minutes and they’re ready to eat.

First Light of Day

2007-11-17T17:16:00.000-05:00

"Restless Dawn" Short Fiction Contest

Jason had this great short fiction contest going on but I missed the deadline. Lately, more of my writing has been nonfiction and this picture was so inspiring, I thought I’d post what I’d written in the few minutes I had last night after Mom went to bed and before I fell asleep. It's not fiction, but at least I wrote something for a change.

P.S. I might add that I've never claimed to be much of a poet. :D

First Light of Day
by Joanne D. Kiggins

Each evening as the sun goes down and I tuck you into bed.
I wonder how your day has been and what goes through your head.
Each day keeps getting harder to keep you occupied.
Yet you find so much comfort with me by your side.

Your memory continues to fade with each passing day.
Still, the words “I love you” we always manage to say.
If I had one wish for you as Alzheimer’s takes your life.
It would be that you’re truly not aware of your daily strife.

I do not want to think of the day you won’t be around.
When the monitor’s turned off, replaced with silent sound.
Each night I say “I’ll see you in the morning” and then I go to pray.
Hoping that when I wake, you too will see the first light of day.

To Stef

2007-11-16T20:23:00.000-05:00

I was sad to read that Stef, at the young age of 20, lost her Nonna yesterday to Alzheimer's. Stef always spoke of her grandmother with such love and devotion. It was heartwarming to read Stef's posts about how close she and her grandmother were.

Know that your Nonna knew you loved her and she's proud of the close relationship you two had. My thoughts and prayers are with you through this difficult time, Stef.

REVIEW: Becoming (Poems 2002-2005) by Christopher Porpora

2007-11-14T20:49:00.000-05:00

Becoming (Poems 2002-2005)
By Christopher Porpora
Anne’s House Press (2005)
76 pp Paperback
Poetry
ASIN: BOOOKJRURA
Amazon Price: $9.95

Becoming is the second collection of poetry written by Christopher Porpora.

The stylish cover, a black ink drawing sketched by the author, depicts and old-time bathroom scene with a personal touch. Porpora’s voice reminds me of past poets who found beauty by using words of simplicity and depth of feeling.

From the front cover to the back, the 76 poems include bits and pieces of the author’s personal style and distinctive voice. In some poems he found his voice and in others the reader needed to search for it.

Short or long, each poem speaks from Porpora’s heart and shows a balance and mixture of honesty, dread, tenderness, love, loss, joy, and humor. Some poems, so short, as the two-line poem on page 2, were difficult to determine what point the author was trying to make. They were elusive and without rhyme or reason.

Yet in the longer prose, the imagery, simile, and emotion were quite good.

Tender fathers
Watching this tender father
carry his sandaled, sleeping boy
through the archway
up the tiled steps,
stepping so, his arms
stretched, as if cradling
his own sleeping heart. (3)

Each poem was seemingly a taste of his life written in segments, tiny fables, and with a romantic appeal in most.

As with any type of writing, the author has only a short time to catch a reader’s attention. With poetry, the portal of opportunity is smaller; the reader must be drawn in quickly in very few words. How a reader perceives, analyzes, and interprets the words in front of him can be as different as black and white.

Porpora’s imagery in many of his poems was spot on and he controlled what feeling he wanted his reader to perceive.

To her I confessed
I long for a world
a world without wrong,
without temptation
But what would become
then, of us said she
Perharps redemption,
perhaps misery. (18)

His mixture of rhyme and free verse throughout his poetry shows that Porpora is familiar with the many strategies of prose. The shorter pieces could have left an impression had he expanded the verse, yet at the same time, the longer rhyming verse flowed right off the page into the next forcing this reader to read to the end of the book to find the prose he’d mastered.

Porpora may be a younger and newer poet on the scene, but he is one who poetry lovers should give notice. I look for the next book of poetry by Porpora to show his skills even more.

Click HERE to purchase Becoming.

Today Was Different

2007-11-12T19:48:00.000-05:00

Well, today was different for a few reasons. Mom woke up asking me who was the bitch in the house last night. Whoever it was she thought was there, she didn’t like this old woman and she thought she was a thief. She’d grabbed her walker and moved it from the bottom of the bed to beside her bed so this person couldn’t steal it. I told Mom there wasn’t anyone in the house but her and I and she must have been dreaming. She was convinced that someone was in her room during the night. That was quite strange because Mom didn’t get out of bed even once last night. Then, while we were combing her hair, she stared at something on her dresser. I asked what she was looking at and she said she was looking at the picture of ‘us’ and pointed at a picture of her and my dad. Okay. Was the ‘us’ her thinking her and Dad, or was she thinking her and I. I didn’t ask. I’m not sure I wanted to know. I just said, oh, okay, that’s a nice picture, and I prodded her toward the kitchen to give her breakfast and pills before we left. On the way to day care all she said was how pretty the leaves were.

There was another reason today was different. It was the first time since my granddaughter Katie was born that I had the opportunity to spend time with her without Angel and Tim around. I took Mom to day care and Angel brought Katie over about 10:30. Angel’s interview wasn’t until 1:00 but she wanted to make Katie lunch and get her down for a nap before she left at noon. I think Angel was a bit nervous leaving Katie because it was the first time Katie had been alone with me without Angel around.

Katie seemed quite comfortable at my house actually. She ate and fell asleep before Angel left, which gave Angel time to change clothes and get ready for her appointment, and give me the motherly directions of what to do when Katie woke up; change her diaper, give her the canned peaches, and little fruit snack chewy things. Yep, I think I can handle that; I had two little girls way back when. LOL

It felt really strange having a baby in the house again. It reminded me of when I took care of my granddaughter Trinity for nearly two years while Stacey was in Korea. I sat on the couch and watched Katie sleep. Her little dimpled fingers opened and closed into a fist and her foot would lift and kick the blanket. She rolled from her back to her side and onto her tummy, then onto her side again. It felt good feeling like a grandma again.

Katie woke up about 1:30. I handled the diaper change and snack time like an old pro and we were off to better things. Katie and I sat on the couch and played with a little musical snowman for a while. Two Feather pushed a small couch pillow over and it tipped onto Katie’s elbow. She giggled and pushed it back. The two of them pushed that pillow back and forth for about ten minutes, giggling each time it flipped. Then, Katie did the cutest thing, Two Feather started to push the pillow again, and I guess Katie decided that was enough pushing and giggling and she put her forefinger up, waved it back and forth, and said, “no, no, no.”

Angel called about 2:20 and said she was waiting for another person to interview her and she’d be a little longer. She asked how Katie was doing. I don’t know if she could hear Katie giggling in the background, but I told her she had her snack, she was fine, and to be careful on the way home. We were doing fine.

After I got off the phone with Angel, Katie decided she liked my dog and crawled up on the couch by her to stroke her fur. Then we moved over to another chair and Katie played with the little talking piano toy Angel brought with her. The piano keys were labeled A, B, C, D, and E. A was for apple and had a biting crunch sound, B never got pushed, so I’m not sure what it was for, C was for car with a horn beep (I always thought C was for cat), D was for dog with a barking sound, and E was for elephant with an elephant sound. Wow, toys have changed so much since my kids were little. Angel and Stacey used to have the big round Fisher Price toy with the letters and pictures of animals. They had to turn the big red arrow to point to the animal and pull the cord to hear the name and sound of the animal.

Anyway, Katie either got tired of pushing the buttons on the piano toy, or she got tired of me taking pictures of her; whichever it was, she put her hands to her side and gave me this look that seemed to say, “Are we done yet?”

Katie and I moved back over to the couch, I changed her again, and by that time Angel was walking in the door at 3:30. She put everything in the car and left for home.

Katie was only awake for two hours while she was there but we managed to fill those two hours with a lot of playtime. After she left I sat on the couch and talked with Two Feather for a half hour before I had to leave to pick up Mom. On the way out to the car, I realized this old ladies’ body isn’t what it used to be. My knees felt rug burned, and my back was killing me. Crawling around on the floor didn’t bother me five years ago, but a lot has changed in five years.

I picked Mom up at day care and the first thing she asked me was whether she woke me up last night during the night. When I said no, she said, that’s odd; I thought I woke you to throw that old woman out of the house. Nope, Mom, you didn’t wake me. That’s good she said. *shrug* She didn't mention it again.

Mom ate very little dinner and went to bed as soon as she was finished. She said she was exhausted and felt cold. I tucked her in, said I love you and came up to my room. Within minutes I could hear the soft steady breathing of her sleep. I’m tired too; think I’ll hit the sack early tonight. All this mothering and grand mothering is tiring. LOL

Before closing though, I'd like to say thank you to all soldiers serving in every part of the world and all our veterans who served in the past. Thank you for what you've done for our country. Yesterday was the official Veteran's Day, but since it's being observed today, I felt it only right to let you all know you're in my thoughts and prayers. Thanks Dad, Uncle Joe, Stacey, Angel, and all of you wonderful military personnel.

Beauty of the Day

2007-11-11T13:24:00.001-05:00

I mentioned before that we have several deer on the property. There are at least six bucks chasing the doe around the yard. There’s a 10 or 12-point, 8-point, 6-point, 4-point, and a buck with only one 3-point antler. Here’s a picture of the 8-point that stood grazing by the barn today. You can see his rack, but unfortunately you’ll have to take my word on the number of points. Best I can do with the digital. Maybe the 35mm shots will be more clear. I'll let you know. Enjoy the beauty of the day.

Alzheimer's Plateaus and Declines

2007-11-11T13:06:00.000-05:00

Alzheimer’s is the most puzzling disease I’ve ever seen. As loved ones progress through the stages of Alzheimer’s disease, they become more and more dependent on the caregiver to take care of their needs.

There’s a well known phrase with Alzheimer’s caregivers that reminds us that we can share our experiences, but each person with Alzheimer’s is affected differently than the next: “When you’ve seen one person with AD, you’ve seen one person with AD.” Every person with AD progresses differently and at his or her own rate.

There is no standard situation for each stage of the disease. One loved one may continue in one stage, plateau in that stage for years, and decline swiftly to the end stage within months. Other loved ones may never reach the end stage and are saved the progressive decline to the end.

I’ve learned to deal with any situation that arises in Mom’s journey with Alzheimer’s, however; the fluctuation of abilities (the back and forth) from one week to the next is always puzzling. For months Mom has been on a plateau where she’s been unable to dress or bath herself. She was unable to recognize what each piece of clothing was for, let alone figure out how to button buttons. She needs step-by-step instructions on how to wash, and even then she’s unable to muster the coordination to accomplish the task. Her long-term memory is gone and her short-term memory went along with it.

Yesterday, she actually remembered I had a headache over the past few days and asked if it was gone. She also buttoned her shirt for the first time in three months. If someone had come to visit her yesterday, she would have appeared ‘fine’ in the respect that she was able to hold a conversation as well. Her seemingly enhanced cognitive state continued throughout the day. She helped set the table for dinner, helped dish out her meal, and she even washed the dishes when dinner was over.

I sat in amazement as I watched her, knowing she was having a ‘good day’, and wondering how long it would last. When it was time to get ready for bed, she buttoned her own pajama top and said the words she used to say to me every night: “Thank you for taking care of me, honey. I love you and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As I sat in my room after she was asleep, I felt as if I’d been thrown backwards into this awful disease. I was thankful for the abilities she mustered for the day, but these back and forth cognitive scenarios can really screw up the ‘prepared’ mindset we caregivers try to maintain. We need to keep reminding ourselves to be prepared for the next decline, even though we cherish the good days our loved ones have.

This morning we were right back to where we were Friday; Mom didn’t recognize her clothes, her room, her house, and she was having a difficult time maneuvering from a sitting to standing position. Once she got moving, it was slow and shaky, even with the walker.

I truly hate Alzheimer’s and what it does to our loved ones. The only thing this disease has reinforced in my mind is the one thing I’ve tried to live by my entire life: Live one day at a time and live each day as if it is the last—because we just never know what the next day will bring, or if it will come.

On a different note: It’s Steelers Sunday. I think I’ll turn on the game and see how well they beat the Browns. :) Maybe I can even convince Mom to watch the game.

Short Fiction Contest

2007-11-10T20:00:00.000-05:00

I’m a little behind at catching up with my writer friend’s blogs and I’m glad I did some reading today. Seems fellow Pennsylvanian and friend, Jason is holding another short fiction writing contest at his blog, Clarity of Night.

Jason does a wonderful job keeping writers inspired and this contest is no exception. He’s using a beautiful picture for your writing inspiration. Go check out his contest.

I’m inspired and I found it just in time; there is still a week left before the deadline. Now we’ll see if I’m as good at whipping out the words under deadline as I am at weilding the whip at the freelance contest participants. Good luck everyone!

Writing Strengths Meme

2007-11-10T19:58:00.000-05:00

While catching up on my reading today, I ran across this exercise for writers at Sury’s At Home, Writing blog. I’ve written a number of memes where I was to list books or movies I enjoyed or list 10 things about myself that no one knows. They were fun, but when I saw this ‘Writing Strengths’ meme it caught my eye. Lately, I haven’t been writing much (at least not the type writing I want to write) so this may take me a while to come up with five strengths.

The guideline for the meme is as follows: Make a list of five strengths that you possess as a writer/artist. It’s not really bragging, it’s an honest assessment (forced upon you by this darn meme). Please resist the urge to enumerate your weaknesses, or even mention them in contrast to each strong point you list. Tag four other writers or artists whom you’d like to see share their strengths.
After much thought, this is what I came up with.

1) Truth: No matter what I write (essays, articles, short stories, or novels) my writing is filled with truth in one aspect or another. Essays of course are a brief expression of one’s past: an experience, or a thought of how that experience felt. Each and every essay I’ve ever written reflects a different part of my life, or someone else’s life. I suppose the expression; “the truth will set you free” might be how I look at my writing. Truth in words is important to me. When writing, I am free to voice whatever comes to mind and allow all my feelings to come out. That brings me to my next strength.

2) Feeling: Finding the proper words to express an emotion, scene, or thought is rewarding. Capturing a reader within your words in order to stimulate him or her to perceive those feelings is an honor. Nothing pleases me more than when I receive notes, e-mails, and personal messages from people who read my work. The number one feedback I hear is: “your writing placed me right there beside you.” There’s no better compliment than that!

3) Affect: In the terms of my writing having an effect upon someone. When my words induce an emotional or cognitive impact upon a person, then I’ve done my job well. That is what writing is all about; to leave an impact in some way, even if just for the moment. Thank you to all who have told me my writing affected you in some way.

4) Courage/Voice: I’d like to think that through writing I’ve shown the courage I’ve gained from this profession. I’m speaking not only of the courage in the sense of having the ability to write the truth, show my feelings, and affect those who read my work. But I’m also speaking of the courage in the sense that I may have voiced what so many others wished they could, but were afraid. Writing has given me the courage and the voice to express those things that often get swept under the rug and hidden.

5) Perseverance: No matter what life brings, or what joys, trials, or tribulations come my way, I have always persevered through my writing. Each of those joys and tribulations became a porthole of opportunity. It is because of all those experiences my writing has progressed through the years. Rejections come from all corners of life. Taking those rejections and turning them into joy takes a lot of hard work and perseverance. In a writer’s life, rejection is nothing new. If we learn from those rejections and push forward to make our writing speak out to the next editor or publisher, we have persevered.

May you all find truth, feeling, courage and voice as you write, and affect all your readers as you persevere in this wonderful world of words.

Oh yes, I tag: Ray, Nita, Unique, and Anne.

Furnace Fixed, Packing & Moving

2007-11-10T17:31:00.000-05:00

Thursday went quickly. I called Tom to ask if the furnace part came in yet. He said it didn’t, but his supplier was taking the part off a new furnace so he could bring it out and install it later in the day. He called about fifteen minutes before I was ready to leave to pick up Mom. I told Mom on the way home that Tom would be at the house fixing the furnace when we got home. Two Feather came down and talked with Tom while he worked and until I got back home with Mom. When Tom came upstairs to go outside to get a tool Mom wasn’t sure who he was. He said hello and went back downstairs to work. When he came back upstairs into the dining room to set the thermostat a few minutes later, Mom said I haven’t seen you in a long time, how are you and when did you grow that thing on your lip. He chuckled and said, I’ve had this mustache since I was in the military.

Two Feather left and went back home. While Tom worked on the furnace, I made Mom’s dinner and got her ready for bed. Tom left about 6:00 and the furnace was running. He said, I think it’s finally fixed. Nothing personal, but I hope I don’t hear from you until next year. We both laughed and I said, no offense taken, I hope not too.

The furnace ran its cycle, shut off after he left, and didn’t come back on. I felt bad that I had to call him again. He was in the middle of eating dinner when I called and said he’d come right over. When he came, he was prepared to tear the entire furnace apart all the way down to the fuel line. He knew the module he’d replaced was working so it had to be something else. He installed a new thermostat, took apart the fuel pump and cleaned the small fuel filter inside and put everything back together. The furnace ran a 40-minute cycle this time and the thermostat moved up to 70 degrees. He waited for the house to cool some and see if the furnace kicked back on by itself. Fifteen minutes later, it did. He was a bit paranoid because of all the problems, so he waited for it to run another cycle before he left. Once again the furnace came on by itself. Tom left about 8:00 satisfied that the problem was fixed. The furnace has been working ever since. YAY!!!

Angel came in and stayed with me for the night again because she had another appointment on Friday morning. She got in around 9:30 PM. She brought a birthday bag with presents in it. She drove in last Monday for another interview, and had the bag with her then thinking we might get together for lunch and give me my present early, but we weren’t able to get together because Two Feather and I had a business appointment. Anyway, she gave me a beautiful blue velour jogging suit and the newest Stephen King book. Of course, I loved both gifts. We sat upstairs and talked until 11:00.

Friday morning I woke up Mom and got her ready for the day and woke Angel up so she could get ready for her trip downtown. She was going to drive back to her house after her appointment and said she’d call when she got home.

Two Feather rode me down to Mom’s on the Mule and I packed up a lot of my books, writing files, and my summer clothes to take back to my house. I just don’t have enough room upstairs and I’m not making use of my writing files right now anyway. I figured I might as well start moving things back to my house.

I also packed up all his Indian art that I had in my room upstairs. We had been selling it online, but so much has changed with Mom, that I don’t have the time to devote to taking the pictures, writing the descriptions, packing everything, or running the items to the post office when they've sold. I feel bad about this, because Two Feather has given up everything to help me take care of Mom. He’s given up his way of life: going to powwows; setting up and selling his Indian art at powwows, craft shows, and flea markets; selling firewood. He’s given up absolutely everything to show respect to a woman whom he has no actual ties to. Why? Because he loves me and he loves my mom. And because he’s a respectful human being who lives by his Cherokee heritage. He’s a traditionalist and taking care of the elderly is part of their tradition.

He doesn’t whine or complain that our life has changed so much; he accepts it as part of the path we’re suppose to be on right now, and so do I. We’ll have no regrets about these years spent with Mom and we take pride in the fact that we’re here for her through every step of her journey with Alzheimer’s.

There was no doubt in my mind that I would take care of Mom if and when the time was needed. I’m proud to say I have a man who stands beside me and believes, as I do, in the same family values, honor, and respect due our elders. I think I’ll take my Mom’s advice from when she met him six years ago before Alzheimer’s, “Hang onto him. He’s a keeper. He’s a wonderful man.”

Yes he is, Mom, and he shows it every day!

The Day Wasn't All Bad--Getting Good At Saying Oh Well

2007-11-09T21:48:00.000-05:00

Inquiring minds asked how my birthday went. :) Well, I’d like to say I had a wonderful birthday, but I’m not a liar. Had it not been for the migraine I woke up with, it probably would have gone a lot better. I’m not a happy camper when I have a migraine. When my head hurts, I do not function well at all, in any aspect. I had an auto accident four years ago, which required cervical spine surgery on my neck. I’ve had neck pain ever since. Once the neck pain begins, it radiates and becomes a full-blown migraine. The vice-like grip on my temples was unrelenting all day. But the day wasn’t all bad.

I called Two Feather when I got up as I do every morning. That’s my way of letting him know I’m still among the living and the day has begun. He told me to be careful taking Mom to day care and getting home, and we hung up. No mention of my birthday. I thought that was odd, but I figured he was waiting until I got home.

He had a fire going in the fireplace when I got home and he made me breakfast. I knew this was just a small part of his grand scheme for the day. No ‘Happy Birthday’ from him yet. No big deal. It didn’t really bother me; I knew he knew it was my birthday; he always teases me and says your birthday is the 11th right? Yeah, right, I say. He’s been wishing me happy birthday since his birthday passed in September. Oh well, he’s already wished me happy birthday probably 38 times anyway.

I went into the kitchen and thought about making a cake. Eh, instead I figured I’d make a batch of chocolate chip cookies and use the two new cookie sheets I bought last week. Bake for 8-10 minutes at 350 degrees and we’d have some really great tasting cookies as soon as they cooled. Wrong! Within five minutes of baking, I could smell the burnt bottoms. I won’t say what new name I gave those cookie sheets, but it wasn’t Echoware and it certainly wasn’t ‘no stick’.

By this time, the vice-like grip on my temples had encompassed my entire head. I was in no mood for cookies, especially burnt ones.

Two Feather heard me in the kitchen, came in, and asked what was wrong. Oh nothing, I said. I made cookies and their bottoms are burnt, and they’re not even finished baking. Guess I should have made a cake, maybe I could have burned that too, but of course I should wait to make that on the 11th, when you tell me happy birthday, right?

He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me so tight. I didn’t tell you happy birthday yet did I? No, I said. We’ve had a lot on our minds lately. I know the breakfast and fire was all part of it, but…

But I didn’t tell you happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t say it when you called this morning. I know it’s your birthday. I don’t know why I didn’t say it.

It doesn’t matter, I said. Somehow I knew this birthday should go by unnoticed. I even wrote that in my blog yesterday. It’s just another day and there’s too many other things to worry about.

He grabbed a cookie off the cookie sheet and said these aren’t that bad, have one. Happy birthday, honey.

He grabbed a few more cookies and asked me to go in the living room and lie down to try to get rid of the migraine.

The phone rang. He knew it would be one of my daughters and before I answered he smiled and said, happy birthday. I knew it wouldn’t be Stacey because she told me last week that she didn’t have cell phone power where she works. I didn’t think she’d be calling until evening. Besides, I got a card in the mail from her the day before my birthday along with a half dozen cards from some of my friends. I called her on the 6th and thanked her for the card and wished her stepson, my grandson Deandre happy birthday at the same time. Oh good, you got it already; that saves me from having to call tomorrow, she said joking.

It was Angel who called when the phone rang and she asked what I was doing. I said I was lying on the couch watching the news trying to get rid of a headache. She asked if I could baby-sit Katie for a few hours next Monday when she comes in for another appointment. Sure, I said, and she said, okay I’ll talk to you later and we hung up. I knew she had it in mind to wish me happy birthday, but with her traveling four hours for interviews, trying to sell her house, packing, and trying to make arrangements for everything long distance, it slipped her mind. Oh well, she’ll call back when she has time.

I curled back up on the couch, pulled a blanket over my head, and tried to go to sleep mumbling, “Oh well, I did say I wanted my birthday to go by unnoticed.” Then I cried.

I couldn’t go to sleep so I picked one of our movies to watch. Two Feather slipped the VHS into the player and hit play. The movie had black streaks all through the middle of it. We tried another movie; the black streaks were still there. I ran the head cleaner in the VCR and tried the movie again. Still black streaks. Oh well, guess the VCR needs to be replaced.

We watched TV for the remaining time I had at home. I picked up Mom and the nurse at the day care told me I looked tired. I told her I had a migraine and was going to spend the rest of my birthday in bed. She wished me happy birthday. Mom asked whose birthday it was and I said mine. She said, happy birthday, honey, I didn’t know today was your birthday. I said, I know Mom, oh well, it’s just another day. Her knowing was there and gone within seconds. Oh well, I knew she didn’t know the date or that it was my birthday; I didn’t expect her to.

I made her dinner and washed her and dressed her for bed making sure I let the heater run in her bedroom for a while so she would be warm.

The part for the furnace was supposed to come in on my birthday too. I knew Tom had a furnace installation so didn’t think he’d be coming to fix our furnace Wednesday. The part probably didn’t come in until late afternoon anyway. Oh well, we have heaters.

Angel called about 6 PM singing happy birthday. She said she meant to tell me earlier, but she’d had so much on her mind trying to get things arranged, it slipped her mind. Do I know my daughters well, or what? ;) Love you, honey. Thanks for calling back.

Stacey called and wished me happy birthday right after I hung up from talking to Angel. Love you too, Stacey. She said I sounded tired. I laughed and told her what the day had been like, that I was still fighting this migraine, and I was going to bed. And I did!

So there you have it. That was my birthday in a nutshell. The breakfast was great, the fire was soothing, the cookies weren’t that bad, Mom’s house was warm from the heaters, and everyone who matters in my life did end up wishing me happy birthday. And that includes all you wonderful caregiver friends, the AW group, and all who sent me cards. Hugs to you all, you know who you are.

If you noticed, on the 4th I mentioned I’d tucked Mom safely and ‘warmly’ in bed, and during the night the furnace stopped working. On the 6th I wrote that I’d just as soon my birthday go by without notice and, well…you read the story. LOL

One thing I do know for sure, I’ll be very careful what I write in my blog from now on. You never know when the Creator is going to take you serious.

By the way, I still have my migraine. And oh yes, while I’m in the mood, She…i…la, I hope you’re enjoying ‘watching me’ from work and home, though I can’t imagine, since your rude October 1 comment, why you’ve logged in and read my blog 57 times since I make you SO sick. (Yes, I have all the dates and times logged from each computer) Did you bother to tell your husband that his mother’s furnace quit working? Did either of you bother to call to make sure she was okay? Of course not. Nice of you both to show so much concern for my mother! Talk about sick! Oh well!

Sorry I didn’t post this earlier, you would have been able to read it at 8:01PM when you logged in from home. Guess you’ll see this when you log in.

Have a wonderful day.

Dinner Cooked, Wood Cut & Split & I'm Getting Older

2007-11-06T19:45:00.000-05:00

Today I used a suggestion from Nancy and used the oven to help heat the house. No, not an empty oven with the door open, that’s dangerous, a closed oven with a stuffed roasting chicken inside. Great idea, Nancy!

Mom’s oven is really neat. It has two timers on it: the regular timer for baking cookies and such, and this awesome ‘start’ and ‘stop’ timer for cooking. I stuffed the chicken last night after she was in bed and put it in the refrigerator. This morning before we left, I set the start timer for 2 PM, the stop timer for 4 PM, shoved the roasting pan in, and closed the door. It was wonderful. When we walked in at 4:30, the kitchen was nice and warm and the smell of chicken was in the air. Dinner was cooked, and all I had to do was dish out our meal and add a veggie.

I wish Mom could have smelled the chicken when we came in, but she lost her sense of smell years and years ago when I was still in high school. I’m glad she can still taste food, though. She loved the meal and ate a decent amount tonight.

Two Feather worked in the woods again today. Fallen trees blocked another path he’d made several years ago.

It didn’t take him long to cut up these trees once he put a new chain on his chainsaw. He pulled the trees out onto the path after branching them. We sat on this tree for a few minutes taking in the beauty of the woods. We watched a few deer walk by as a light sprinkle of rain turned to the first snowflakes for the year.

I helped load some of the smaller pieces of wood onto the Mule, but I’m not much help when it comes to the big ones. I mostly watched and enjoyed the atmosphere today. The Mule was full by the time he cut up both trees and split all the wood.

I think tomorrow we’ll take the day off…maybe. Two Feather said he has something in mind to do instead of work. Tomorrow is my birthday, but I’d just as soon let it go by without notice. Mom doesn’t even know what month or year it is, let alone that it’s my birthday. For years I would take Mom out to lunch on her birthday and she would take me out on mine and we’d spend those days shopping together. We still celebrate Mom’s birthday, as you saw in an earlier post, but the last few years my birthday has come and gone without her knowing, so there’s no sense in mentioning it this year either.

For those wondering, I’m past the big 50. In a few short hours, I’ll be 55. :D
See you all tomorrow my friends!

Furnace is on the Fritz

2007-11-05T18:40:00.000-05:00

Mom's furnace is on the fritz. Sometime during the night it quit working. About 3:00 AM I woke up chilled to the bone. I went down in the basement and checked the circuit breakers. They were fine, so I pulled the cover from the furnace and pushed the reset button. The furnace kicked on but it only ran for about 10 minutes and shut off. When I pushed the reset button again, it did nothing.

I peeked into Mom’s room and noticed she had the covers pulled up over her head. That told me she was cold, so I pulled another blanket from the closet and put it over her. She continued to sleep peacefully until I woke her to get her ready for the day care.

Upon arriving home, I called the gentleman who maintains her furnace every year. He said he wouldn’t be able to come out until this evening because he had several ‘no heat’ calls before us, and a furnace installation to do. Tom’s been my mom and dad’s furnace maintenance man for more than 20 years, and since Dad died he always makes sure he takes care of Mom’s furnace at the beginning of his busy season. Last year, we had him put a new furnace in because the old one was on its last leg. Within a few minutes of my call, Tom called back and said he was on his way. He said he has a soft spot for widows and especially Mom because he liked my dad so much.

He arrived at 8:30 and performed the usual maintenance of changing the nozzle, the fuel oil filter, and the furnace filter. The furnace fired up, ran for about six minutes, and quit. He bled the line to get the air out and still the same thing. After a few more adjustments, the furnace fired up and ran even after he left at 11:00. I went to my house, Two Feather and I ran a few errands, and went to Mom’s around 2:00 to make sure the furnace was still working. When we walked in the house, we knew it had shut off after he left and not come back on. The thermostat was still at 62 degrees.

I called Tom again. He had just finished with a call and said he’d come right over. He was here within 20 minutes, pushed the reset button, and left again to go to his parts supplier to pick up a new module for the furnace. He was back again by 3:10, installed the new part, and wouldn’t you know it, that part was defective, so he left again to get another one.

In the meantime, I left to pick up Mom at day care and Two Feather sat outside on my mom’s porch waiting for Tom in case I wasn’t back in time. I told Mom that Tom had worked on the furnace most of the day and he would be back to fix the furnace by the time we returned home.

Turned out Tom called me on my cell phone just before I pulled up to the house. He said they didn’t have another module in stock and it would take two days to get it in. He was on his way over to drop off heaters to keep the house warm for Mom until the part comes in. For him to make my mom’s house his first priority was kind. To come back within hours pushing all his other calls later when I called again was kind. To bring heaters to make sure Mom was warm…that goes above and beyond in my book.

Tom knows Mom has Alzheimer’s and when he walked in with the heaters, he said, “Hi Mrs. Kiggins, how are you?” “I’m fine. I don’t think I know you,” she said. Tom was so sweet. He took his hat off and said, “Maybe with my hat off you’ll know me.” I could tell Mom still didn’t know who he was and so did he, but she said, “Yeah, I think I remember you.”

Tom set up the heaters around the house and left. The house was still chilly because the heaters hadn’t been on very long and Mom said, “It’s cold in here. You’d better call the furnace guy and have him fix that thing. I don’t think it’s working.” So much for Tom taking off his hat for her to recognize him, she didn’t even remember him being there two minutes after he left. LOL I told her the house would warm up as soon as the heaters ran a little longer.

I put an extra blanket on her bed just in case. By the time we ate dinner and she dressed for bed her room was very warm. It didn’t take her but a few minutes to fall asleep.

Tonight is Monday night Steelers football, and since Mom is in bed sleeping I’ll actually get to watch a game for a change. Haven’t watched one since I moved in with Mom because she’s not a real fan of football. She used to sit and read or crochet when Dad watched the Steelers. Everything time he’d yell and cheer when they got a touchdown, she’d jump in her chair and say he ‘scared the living daylights out of her’. I root and cheer just like Dad used to, so I figured it’s best if I don’t turn the games on when she’s in the room. We need all the living daylights we can get. ROFL

Don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep for the next couple nights. I’m not a fan of electric and oil heaters running, so I’ll be up and down all night checking them to make sure they’re not heating anything except the rooms. Never can be too careful.

To Betsy

2007-11-04T18:14:00.000-05:00

This morning I was happy that I was able to visit my Uncle Joe yesterday, Mom enjoyed the visit, and I actually found some time to finish writing a book review that’s been long overdue.

I’ve been busy with Mom all day; dressing her for the day, helping her with her bathroom needs, making meals, and keeping her busy. Weekends she tends to get anxious if I’m not sitting and talking with her or doing something with her. I managed to get the laundry finished and she helped me fold clothes, put them on hangers, and fold towels. She said she felt good helping with things because she doesn’t want me to have to do everything. I told her how much I appreciated her help and we sat for the rest of the afternoon working on word search puzzles and coloring.

Dinner is finished and Mom is tucked safely and warmly in bed and I thought it was time for me to catch up on my blog reading.

I went to Betsy’s blog first and found myself in tears when I read that her mother passed away over the weekend. I haven’t met Betsy personally, nor have I met Lori, Nancy, Terry, or Shirl, and many of the other caregivers I link to on my blog, but the relationships we’ve made through our writing about our journey with Alzheimer’s has been a rewarding one. We’ve become family to each other.

We’ve experienced similar drawbacks in our care giving, shared our concerns, even passed our phone numbers on to each other, yet we hesitate to make that call because we know how busy everyone’s day can be.

Each of these wonderful people have shared their journey right through to the end and it’s the end that saddens me so much. Shirl’s Bob died on April 27, 2007. Lori’s Helen died on Monday, September 17, 2007. Nancy’s Russ died on Thursday, September 20, 2007. Terry’s dad died on Friday, September 21, 2007. And now Betsy’s mom died on Friday, November 2, 2007.

Each have become very important to me and hold a very special place in my heart. Each giving of themselves in a way no other could. Some of us have common interests, some have common lifestyles, and some even have common superstitions. Thank you all for being the special people you are.

Betsy ran across my blog on August 20, 2007 and commented, “It seems we share many common traits: full time caregiver for an AD mom, freelance writer and Pittsburgher. I'm delighted to "meet" you!”

Besides being caregivers for a loved one with Alzheimer's, Betsy and I do share common traits, even past those things she mentioned. I was delighted to meet her as well and she’s held a very special place in my heart since. We’ve kept in touch through our blogs, and she was so kind to take time out of her busy day to send copies of the Reminisce Magazine. I thought it was very sweet and thoughtful for Betsy to share with my Mom something that her mom enjoyed for so long.

Today when I read Betsy’s words, “Those were our last words to each other,” I knew without reading any further her mom had passed and my heart broke for her. Through tears I continued to read her post about how she listened for her mom’s sleeping sounds through the baby monitor and my heart ached even more. So many of us caregivers can relate to the feeling of not getting comfortable until we hear our loved one’s soft steady breathing. We know the sounds of the bed, the different types of breathing, and when our loved one’s are sound asleep. Then we know we can relax for a short time, and maybe catch a bit of sleep until they call out to us during the night.

Silence through that monitor is something none of us want to hear. I could feel the numbness Betsy felt as she stood outside on the porch trying to gain the strength to check on her mom in the morning when she heard that silence. I can only imagine how difficult those moments were and how long they must have felt to her.

Crying, I reached for the phone and called Two Feather. He knew immediately that another of my friend’s loved ones had passed. He’s received several of these calls in the past six months. Two Feather understands the heartbreak we go through each day; he watches me hold back tears as I watch a part of my mom disappear as the days, months, and years go by. He hesitated for a second and asked, “Who?” “Betsy’s mom,” I said choking back the tears. He said, “She lives near here, doesn’t she? Tell her I said I’m sorry.” Then he hugged me and said, “I’m sorry. I know you’ve become friends.”

I must have had a distraught look on my face because he asked me what was wrong. Betsy’s post mentioned that the viewing was today and the funeral would be tomorrow morning. She’s so close, yet I realized I wouldn’t be able to be there for her during her time of need.

Betsy, please know that I’m thinking of you and your wonderful family and I am keeping you in my prayers. I may not be able to stand beside you, hold your hand, and give you that comforting hug you deserve, but I am there for you, my friend.

You were the template your mom used when she made those craft angels. ((Soft hugs)) I love you!

BOOK REVIEW: Autumn Shadows in August by Robert W. Norris

2007-11-04T11:20:00.000-05:00

Autumn Shadows in August
By Robert W. Norris
Lulu Press
January 2006
201 pp.Paperback
Fiction
ISBN: 1411672976
Amazon Price: $13.92

Review by Joanne D. Kiggins

Robert W. Norris takes readers on an hallucinogenic trip with his novel Autumn Shadows in August. Norris claims his novel is part homage to authors’ Malcolm Lowry and Hermann Hesse, who he says influenced his writing, and part mid-life crisis/adventure.

We meet main character David Thompson and his wife Kaori in an astounding and griping prologue that forces the reader to turn the page to see what happens to the couple.

Throughout the novel, Norris kept the same quick pace and gripping scenes, which plunged into an adventure of telling Thompson’s hopes of rediscovering himself by use of hallucinogens.

Thompson is a conscientious objector and an expatriate American teaching English at a Japanese university. He’s suffering from hepatitis C and Kaori is recovering from cancer surgery.

Both feeling the need to be revitalized, they decide to leave Japan and journey to Europe. In an attempt to find themselves, Thompson retraces his youth and a journey he took 26 years ago to share his past with his wife while both search for the significance of what they’ve done with their lives.

In their travels, Thompson tries to find his German friend Thomas Knorr while Kaori enriches her knowledge and love of the arts. At the beginning of their journey in Amsterdam, Thompson meet Pablo, the mysterious head shop owner, who gives him a small box containing a small chessboard, figurines, and four mushrooms. He recalls Pablo’s advice on life.

Chess is like the game of life. And the pieces of each person’s game are made up of many broken parts, the many selves, of his or her personality. (Pg.13)

Thompson’s psychedelic journey began before receiving the box, but after consuming the first mushroom, his trip turns into a full blow adventure of the mind. The “mushroom examination of everything” sends Thompson on mind boggling trips through his past where he defines the stages of his life.

Each mushroom catapults him into a segment of his life and each trip to another region of the world where he examines his surroundings, realizes his innermost purpose, and questions reality. And it’s no wonder. Thompson’s reality was the use of drugs, alcohol, and mushrooms, which made him think he could better focus on his life. Where, in fact, they played tricks with his mind and led him to his next destination.

Pablo’s trick?
My focus fixed on the Picasso clown and his checkered outfit, which I now realized was a chessboard on which several pieces were moving about. (pg. 46)

Norris relied on flashbacks and imagery to tell his story.
Throughout their journey, Thompson meets all the demons of his past and defines and describes his mushroom episodes in great detail in some of the longest run-on-sentences this reader has ever read.

A hundred more vignettes marched across the stage of my mushroom mind, a phantasmagoria of my entire life from Little League baseball and high school basketball glory and family relationships in the early days, on to prison dramas, the journeys far and wide, all the characters of those multiple episodes, and all the intellectual explorations of why, why, why, what is the meaning of all this, the mind twisting left and right down philosophical and religious avenues, and then finally reaching the stage where I wasn’t questioning anymore….(pg.77)

Thompson realizes, with or without drugs, the path he and his wife followed during their years together was the purpose of their lives. All they had been through shouldn’t be questioned and all the soul-searching they’d done brought them right back to where they were supposed to be in life.

Norris’ writing flows from one long episode to the next and one page to the next. Reading the explicit descriptions of his trip is mind-boggling and an eye-opener; it is like watching him during an episode and knowing he was lost in his own mind only to come out and find he wasn’t lost at all.

The love between Thompson and his wife was evident throughout the journey and their sense of self worth intensified as the trip continued.

Though Norris’ writing is descriptive and fluid, this is not a book I would recommend to a casual reader. However, those who have a taste for books with deep, intense, emotional, and soul-searching plots will find Autumn Shadows in August a great read and may find their own realizations without the use of hallucinogens.

CLICK HERE to purchase Autumn Shadows in August.

Visit With Uncle Joe & Take Out Dinner

2007-11-03T22:09:00.000-05:00

Turn Your Clocks Back

This morning when I got up, I decided it was a good day to visit my Uncle Joe at the nursing home. I don’t get up to see him as often as I used to since Mom finds it more and more difficult to walk distances any longer than 20 feet without tiring out. The walk from the car to the front entrance is three times that long, and the walk from the front entrance to the elevator that takes us to the fourth floor is again twice that long. By the time we reach the sunroom where Uncle Joe sits and reads the daily newspaper, Mom is exhausted.

Uncle Joe wasn’t in the sunroom when we arrived; he was in his room. Nurses were taking care of a patient in his room, so we couldn’t go in and the nurse told Joe we were waiting outside the door.

I had gone to the nursing home to visit twice to see Joe without Mom along, while Mom was at day care, because she was just learning to use her walker. It had been two months since I took Mom with me. He was happy to see us when he came out of his room.

He wheeled himself down the hall to the sunroom and Mom walked with her walker to the seat I’d placed at his table. We sat and talked for nearly two hours before Mom said she was tired and wanted to go home. During the visit, Mom kept saying, “I hate this place.” She gets upset listening to some of the patients loudly repeating sentences over and over again.

I always get a bit depressed after visiting with Uncle Joe because he used to be so independent and was able to come and go as he pleased when he lived in his own apartment. Had I not been taking care of Mom at the time he became ill, I would have moved him into my house and took care of him. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t take care of two elderly loved ones and he knew that. He even told me he was better off in the nursing home because I have my hands full with taking care of Mom and he knew he could no longer live alone.

He’s adjusted very well in the year and a half he’s been there. Because he is given his medications at proper times and he eats three well-balanced meals a day, he is doing quite well. Still, I hate the thought of him being there.

Our visit ended about 3:30 and I hadn’t taken anything out for dinner so I stopped at the Kentucky Fried Chicken to bring home dinner. Mom said, “Make sure you get something for Two Feather. He has to eat, too.”

I said, “Okay, I’m sure he’ll like that.”

“Maybe he’ll come down and eat with us,” she said smiling.

When we got home, I called Two Feather and told him we stopped, brought dinner home, and Mom wanted him to come down and eat with us. As I mentioned before, he seldom eats dinner at Mom’s house, but when she invites him, he never disappoints her. We ate dinner and Two Feather left to go home since he knew I’d be getting Mom showered and dressed for bed.

All in all, it was a nice day, a nice dinner, (especially since I didn’t have to cook it) and Mom was happy to crawl into bed by the time the day was over.

After Mom was in bed, I ran around the house and turned the clocks back an hour. I always do this before I go to bed so the correct time is on all the clocks when we wake up. So for those of you who use Daylight Saving Time, don’t forget to turn your clocks back tonight…or in the morning if you’re a procrastinator. :)

Tomorrow I plan to finish writing the book reviews for the books I've read. You'll see them as soon as I complete them.

Now You See It—Now You Don’t

2007-11-02T17:55:00.000-05:00

Two Feather’s first project today was to cut up the dead tree that fell in the garden area at Mom’s house. I believe I showed the picture of it before and said that would be one of his next jobs. Well today was the day.

It didn’t take him long once he started. While he cut, I picked up the pieces and loaded the back of the mule with the wood. It wasn’t a very big tree but it did fill up the back of the mule by the time he was finished.

We took that load up to our house, I made us something to eat, and we went back down Mom’s to get a few more pieces of the oak tree.

I wasn’t exaggerating when I said the pieces of wood from the oak tree were nearly three foot in diameter. Here are just a few of the cuts from the center of the tree.

Here’s a shot of him splitting one of the larger pieces above with the maul and wedge. He might be tall and skinny, but he's strong. Two Feather split both of these pieces today. They filled the mule bed, and between the oak and the other tree he cut up, they filled his splitting area at our house.

After all the splitting and hauling, we walked through the woods looking for more downed trees on the property. We counted at least six more that we hadn't seen before. This one will probably wait until spring. He has at least a dozen trees to cut, split, and move out of his way before he can get to this one.

This big tree fell during that last storm we had and it covered both his paths through our large garden area at the lower end of our property.

We’re always watching for feathers as we walk. Found a few today. This was interesting to see on the path as we walked home.

It’s a deer print…It measures 4 ½” long. This buck is huge! We know it’s a buck because we’ve seen him around here for a few years, but I’ve never been able to get a picture of him before he runs off. His rack is huge, too! Last year we counted at least 10 points. He was in the yard just before dark tonight, but he was chasing two doe and I couldn’t get a shot of his rack. Last year, Mom saw him standing in front of the barn and thought he was a horse. He is enormous. I’ll get a picture of him yet!

Mom was exhausted as she always is when she got home from day care. She ate a little more for dinner than she did last night and stayed awake until after she finished. I found a few really cute craft projects at the store the other day. This weekend we’ll probably work on them. She loves doing craft projects, so that should help keep her busy for the weekend. She gets bored if I don’t keep her occupied the entire time she’s awake.

Maybe while Mom's working on those crafts I'll find some time to finish writing the book reveiws for the books I've finally finished reading. I've managed to read four books in the last two weeks. My "to read" stack is getting smaller. Only five more to go!

See you all soon. Happy November!