Thursday, May 16, 2013

Demented Thursday

My little C:  How old are you, Mom-o?

My grandma:  I'm 70.

Whoa nelly ok!

So the return of Demented Thursday is here.  Today I loaded up the grandma and we went to her weekly hair appointment.  We weren't sure if it was perm day or not so (as is warranted) we worried and worried over whether it would be wash and set or wash perm set.  Ok we didn't worry but she did.

Turns out it was just wash and set.

Today was a bleak day in the land of dementia.  She wasn't happy at all.  Her complaints:

1.  Blistered eyes.
2.  Impending rain storms
3.  Getting old
4.  Jars (oh damn)

Blistered Eyes -

She gets in the car and says - "My eyes are blistered."  This is alarming to hear someone say this.  I did what any human would do I looked at her eyes.  They were clear, totally clear, her skin looked fine.  So I asked what she meant.  "They're blistered!"  I couldn't see any blisters and I know better than to try to change any wording so I said, "Well they look great to be blistered."  She started touching them and said she put cream on them but the cream didn't come out of the pump.

In my mind I envisioned her using a pump of cream from the seventies and it was now a cement style goo in the antique container.  I cautiously asked about the cream.  Describe it to me.  What does it smell like.  When did you get it (knowing she had no clue).  See, she has issues with buying any and all kinds of lotions and never using them.  Instead she uses what she has had since 1992.  Gingerly, I tried to teach her that things do go bad and when they do they can really hurt us - especially creams and ointments.  Of course this is wasted breath - she'll forget it or deem me incompetent....irony.

"Do you think it could be allergies?"

Ding, ding, ding!  She said it could be she had been told there was stuff in the air that could cause your eyes to hurt.  I tried to help her make the connection of pollen, grasses, ragweed, etc and eyes hurting.

Not sure if we got through on that one.


Impending Rain Storms

Dealing with dementia is like dealing with a sourpuss who is sour constantly.  Every day is a rain day for her - it could be bright and sunny and seventy-five but she's living in a world where the rain will pour to no end in a matter of moments. 

We were enjoying our little drive and it started - "Oh look at all the clouds.  I dread the rain."

"It will probably storm later but that's fine.  It is pretty now lets enjoy it."

"But it is going to rain.  It rains all the time.  Rain, rain, rain."

I don't deal well with her rain chatter.  I stopped responding.  This may be a total kid thing to do but I get so sick of her shitty forecasting.  I decided to "rain" on her rain parade.

"The kids are going to play in the little pool today."

End of the rain talk.


Getting Old.

Ok it sucks once you hit a certain age and your best friend is six feet down.  I know that, I get it.  It sucks big time.  Today's outing with her just hammered that whole getting old sucks thing right on in there.

I really want to get her a shirt made that says - "Getting old sucks" - that will sum her up.

I do love her, a lot but watching her fade mentally is just bleak.

Today she wanted to share how terribly tired and worn out she was. This is the same song and dance I get every single time I see her.  It doesn't matter if its at church or a two hour visit or a three hour trip to town.  It is always the same words and emotions.  I am catching on.

I feel like she's pleading with us to know she wants to die.  Her ulterior motive is using her words of "I'm so so so tired.  I cannot do what I used to.  I'm just too old now" to be code for "I'm done here."  I know that may seem dark to the average reader but after you experience this disease of Alzheimer's so close you start to understand what all is lost in those hunks of brain the disease has gobbled up.  She can't remember but she has also lost so many other strengths in her senses.  Her vision isn't on target. She cannot feel, through touch, the way she once did.  She cannot get in the car and go off with her friends to lunch.  She cannot drive herself to the store to get bread.  Her daughter has to give her the medication she needs.  She lives in fear and paranoia now.  She's got her kids and grand kids but she's in a box all alone and she cannot get out.

Yes, getting old sucks. 

I agree.

Jars.

So you know I had that passion for jars.  Well about a month ago I recycled them all except for the ones I needed for a craft I'm doing next week.  I decided I didn't need the damned things and if I did I could go buy some Mason Jars and be done with it.

I hope this is prevention.

While feeding my baby at lunch my grandma was adamant that I keep every baby food jar I ever use.  I, a jar addict of yesterday, began teaching her, a jar addict of the past and present, that it wasn't necessary to keep everything.

She looked at me as if I had lost my marbles.  She then tried to feed the baby french fries.

Then she asked:  "Why didn't you order him some food?"

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We do have fun times with her.  This past Sunday we had a cookout at my mom's.  My grandma was pretty tired and pretty loopy.  She was happy though.  She was smiling and chatting.  She has to take medicine with each meal she has.  We were all laughing when we were trying to figure out her lunch medicine and she said in the happiest voice we'd all heard out of her - "When you're having fun you don't take your pills!"

Let the record state she said she was having fun.

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#EndAlz.

Til next time-

Brownie

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