Do you remember writing ‘book reports’ when you were a kid? I may have been a bit of a cheater back in elementary school when it came to book reports. Continue reading “Book Report: Creating Moments of Joy”
Evenings are challenging at our house. As the sun goes down, Momma gets a little more anxious and fussy.
Maybe I do too.
I’m pretty sure that when I reach the end of this caregiving journey, I’ll have only a few regrets. One of those regrets happened last night. Continue reading “Seeing Through my Momma’s Eyes”
Stepping out of the car after my morning at the gym, I reveled in how nice it was outside. Our weather today was gloriously warm at 55º. Well, that’s warm for November 28th in Wisconsin. The slight breeze and the pleasant feeling of sunshine on my skin made me want to linger outside for just a little while. Perhaps a little bit of gardening. Momma was busy coloring at the kitchen table, so I grabbed my garden shears and an empty bin and Continue reading “The “Good Job” I Needed to Hear”
“What do you miss most about your “old life”?
Michelle Daly posed this question for caregivers on a recent blog post. It’s hard for me to choose just one thing, so I’ll mention the ones that come to mind first.
I miss sleep. Uninterrupted sleep. I’ve been sleeping with a video baby monitor on my nightstand long enough now that I’m learning to tune out Momma’s “normal” noises and harmless sundowning activities, such as rearranging her drawers and taking inventory of the contents of her purse. I have learned to tune into her needs, such as times when she needs extra help in the bathroom, or when she’s afraid and confused. So, I am getting more sleep, but uninterrupted, monitor-less sleep would be nice.
I miss impromptu ANYthing, but especially the little spur of the moment daytrips with my hubby. Those days when we would just hop in the car and end up at Devil’s Lake for a hike, or down on the UW Campus on one of the walking paths, or just meandering through an out of the way garden center. Fun times.
I miss having people over for dinner. But I’m working on that one. Momma’s usually social self is impaired by her Alzheimer’s frets and fears, making taking her anywhere a chore and very stressful for her. But, the hostess in her loves to have people come and visit with us over lunch or supper, so I’m trying to incorporate more social time with others into our week. Last night our friends Jeremy and Anouk came over for a pizza night with their two children, Mia and Isaiah. Such fun!
But what do I miss most? If pressed, I’d have to say “time with my grandkids” is the thing I miss the most. No more impromptu slumber parties, ‘Fun Fridays’, trips to the library, or excursions to the zoo or a nearby park that usually end with a trip to Culver’s for frozen custard.
Tonight four of my grandkids came over for pie and ice-cream and a little visit. From the moment they walked in the door with their mom and dad, they were clamoring over what we would DO together. The grandsons wasted no time in pulling out some classic board games. The boys took turns playing “Battleship!” with me, with George getting a little help from big sister Violet. Later, our five-year-old George brought out a chess set and asked for help in playing it. Even though this particular chess set has a few pieces missing, his Papa and Daddy helped him learn to make moves and we delighted in his gloating over captured pieces. Granddaughter Violet and her brother Charlie played ‘Othello,’ another favorite game of strategy. I even got in a few hands of ‘War’ with Henry. When I wasn’t playing one of the games, I was just watching and smiling…beaming, actually.
I love these times with family and friends, and wish there were more of them and that they could be longer. But tonight, I’m just grateful for our little get-togethers. Momma loves to color and will gladly share her coloring books and colored pencils with her great-grands and little friends. Seeing children laugh and try new things brings a quiet joy to her eyes. The memory of their visit will soon disappear, but the contentment and joy linger in her heart just a little longer.
My brother and I spent our morning and afternoon yesterday wandering the halls of the William S. Middleton VA Medical Center for three appointments. It’s nice to spend a little time with him. My brother is normally a bit reclusive in nature and doesn’t have much to say, but he’s such a nice guy with an undercurrent of humor that takes everyone by surprise, and a belly laugh that just infuses the room with a bit of joy. Yesterday, at each appointment, he found it belly-laughing hilarious to make sure everyone knew I was his OLDER sister.
He may be younger than I am, but I’ve been noticing some subtle changes in Brad lately. For instance, it’s harder for him to transfer from his wheelchair to either his bed or the car. When he goes to the VA Hospital he has to state his name, date of birth, and last four numbers of his social security number quite often. The pauses are getting lengthier as he searches his brain to recall the information. Sometimes he’ll look at me with a “was that right?” look in his eyes.
Brad’s trouble with memory loss is different than Momma’s, in that it is vascular, most likely due to mini-strokes. Brad’s heavy smoking history may have played a significant role in this. We’ve known about the strokes for about two years now, but yesterday, I felt his memory loss was more significant. At 10:00 am he had a vascular ultrasound performed on his lower legs to check to see how his diabetes has affected his circulation to his feet. At 11:20 am, when questioned by the podiatrist about how the test went, he couldn’t recall even having had the ultrasound less than an hour and a half ago. Then, during his afternoon routine retina injection appointment, I noticed he had trouble with following the doctor’s simple directions like “look up and to the left” or “look down and to the right.”
It’s really hard to watch both my mom and my brother losing ground in their short term memories. As difficult as overseeing their care is, I realize I’ve been given both a huge responsibility and an even larger privilege in caring for both of them.
Years ago (I was probably 12 years old), I remember Dad taking me aside when Brad was having an especially hard time with his school work, telling me, “Be nice to Brad. Try to help him out. Everything is just a little harder for him.”
I think my Dad would be happy to know I was listening.
The affect of Alzheimer’s on those we love can rip your heart out. Other times it melts your heart, reduces you to a puddle of tears and infuses you with more joy than you can possibly imagine. Sometimes I need to be reminded of that joy.
After a particularly rough night with Momma, I received this picture in a text from my husband while I was exercising at the gym. The Momma who wouldn’t sleep a wink in her bed the night before was now sound asleep at the kitchen table after coloring for hours on end.
I smiled through my tears as I thanked God for my sweet Momma.
Momma had a good day on Saturday – well, as good as days get when you have Alzheimer’s. Wayne was out of town visiting a friend, so it was just the two of us most of the day. She had been alert, busy, and had a great attitude. I turned the clocks back one hour, looking forward to the possibility of an extra hour of sleep. But it was not meant to be – by the time my head hit my pillow she had her light on in her room and was rummaging through her drawers.
It was my turn to teach Sunday School the next morning, so I tried to sleep a little, staying on the edge of sleep, listening and keeping a sleepy eye on the monitor throughout the night, only intervening when I thought it was essential. Sadly, no amount of “redirection” on my part was going to get Momma to stay in bed. She was too busy scolding the intruders that were in the kitchen. Of course these intruders were invisible to me, but all too real in her eyes. She would cry out up the staircase in the direction of our second floor bedrooms, “Hello…whoever is working here tonight! There are people in the house who shouldn’t be in here.”
Morning arrived too soon and Kathi arrived promptly at 8 am. I am so thankful for Kathi, a spunky little lady who is my mom’s caregiving companion for 5 hours every Sunday. While she lovingly cares for my mom I get to teach my Sunday School class. Wayne and I can worship with our church family, have lunch together, and then visit my brother Brad in the nursing home. She’s such a blessing.With a warning that things might be a bit rough today, I set off for my time with my church family. What a privilege it is to be able to gather together with other Believers to worship God. Five hours later I returned home and found Kathi with tears of sadness and compassion welled up in her eyes as she mentioned the changes she had observed in Momma since last Sunday, saying Momma had been unusually “teary, anxious, and confused.”
Momma’s marked delirium and anxiety continued throughout the rest of the day, with her “seeing kids playing in the trees” and “family members hanging out in the yard.” A little decorative paper doll with a handkerchief dress was reportedly doing a little dance on her dresser. The fingers of the praying hands figurine that her mother made many years ago were eerily moving. As I accompanied my walker-schootching mother to her bedroom, she told me to get some shoes on because “there are bugs with stingers crawling all over the floor.” Those same bugs were also crawling on her bedroom wall, and birds were perched on her light fixture and flying around her room whenever they were startled.
Sunday evening my daughter Beth stopped by with three of her kids. Beth and Violet witnessed the nonsensical talking and delirium too.
Poor Momma. I’m guessing this is another urinary tract infection, even though test results came back negative for infection. I have a feeling this new testing of my faith may very well be my new “normal” in Momma’s journey with Alzheimer’s.
I’ve been studying and praying through the book of James lately. If y’all pray for me, please ask God to give me joy in the midst of this trial, and to use this season of life to mature my faith-life.
Faith Under Pressure
2-4 Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.