I had 3 beers last night. I was tense. It was over a three hour period and I wouldn't exactly call it binge behavior, but I am aware that having more than one can lead to eating a lot afterward and I want to get fit, not fatter.
My problem is stress relief. Mom and I had an appointment with the CPA to review past taxes 08 and 09. Mom gets defensive on these things. When the tex person asked if there were any other incomes or expenses aside from what was listed, mom said she had renters. I remember that part of the problem with her renters was that they wouldn't pay for months. I didn't want to argue. I simply stared at her. She went on to say, "I have signed contracts from each of my renters. I can get them." This puts the CPA in a bad situation. We don't want to misrepresent the truth, but we do want to get this over with.
Mom started to warm up to blow a head gasket.
I said to Stephanie, The Franchise Tax Board has her reported income. These are the itemized expenses. There are probably more. However, after losing her house and having a flood in the new place, these are the only records we have available, and we have a short window to get this done.
It was obvious to her that I didn't want a wild goose chase for documents that may not exist. She is weird about saving trash, envelopes, old mail, anything that could possibly be paper. It is hoarder behavior. I have a picture to prove it.
However, mom is a human being. She is kind, funny, articulate, but wicked forgetful and hair triggered.
The CPA drew up power of attorney documents and we went on our way. We came straight home and I made the best oatmeal I have ever had. It was delicious. We ate, rested, and blew off the doggie hair appointment to shop for bras at Macy's.
I zoomed through, found the buy 2 get one free. Tried some on, felt stupid because I always try on too small of bras, then we got help. Lupe, the saleslady told me to try 38 DDs, which look a lot like old fashioned pilot ear warmers. She said the Ds or the DDs would fit.
Mom was all between this size and that, this cup and that, this fabric and that. She must have tried on 30 bras. We got her two "normal" bras in light pastels, then one wild leopard print bras for date night.
I got obnoxiously bright bras because I have tame for too long.
When we got home, we rested, cleaned, rested, cleaned, folded laundry, and somehow got dinner on the table, dinner cleaned up, some down time apart, and some down time together.
It was a good day, and up until about bedtime, I felt pretty good. It's now that I am in pain and having trouble doing basic things like raising my arm to turn off a light. The late night joint pain keeps me up. I can't get comfortable, even though I have the best bed with the softest, spongiest mattress.
If it isn't my mind, it's my mind and joints. I am worried about mom being alone tomorrow. She has stitches in her foot and needs supervision. OK, goodnight. I did a good job as a human being today.
J
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Can't sleep
Mom seems to be better, but in new situations, like getting a pedicure, she lies. I showed the ladies pictures of what happened to her foot. Immediately afterward she tried to explain that she cut the bottom.
She cut the top.
She is in and out. Last week she told this guy she used to run a restaurant. She was a waitress. The umbrage she shows others is colored in distain. As if they are all idiots.
I don't know what is going to set her off, but redirecting toward humor seems to help.
She is lost in a maze, but everyone else sees it as a labyrinth.
She cut the top.
She is in and out. Last week she told this guy she used to run a restaurant. She was a waitress. The umbrage she shows others is colored in distain. As if they are all idiots.
I don't know what is going to set her off, but redirecting toward humor seems to help.
She is lost in a maze, but everyone else sees it as a labyrinth.
quarter Jesus
Mom tried out for quarter Jesus. Only one foot has the stigmata, the other needs a pedicure.
A knife abandoned the counter and dove into her foot.
An artery, a shooting star, a pulse of life beating live into red.
Her blood spilled and clotted. Gouts of red berries clotted over the floor.
Her shoe filled with blood. The blood clotted into mice.
The doctor filled the wound with lidocaine and something to congeal the pulse of fire.
Did you know that all wounds eventually stop.
Mom's took 3 stitches.
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Is it wrong to play "This piggy went to market" on her little bloody feet?
This little piggy went home.
This little piggy had knife throwing lessons.
This little piggy had none.
This little piggy bled wee, wee, wee, wee
All the way home.
A knife abandoned the counter and dove into her foot.
An artery, a shooting star, a pulse of life beating live into red.
Her blood spilled and clotted. Gouts of red berries clotted over the floor.
Her shoe filled with blood. The blood clotted into mice.
The doctor filled the wound with lidocaine and something to congeal the pulse of fire.
Did you know that all wounds eventually stop.
Mom's took 3 stitches.
.jpg)
Is it wrong to play "This piggy went to market" on her little bloody feet?
This little piggy went home.
This little piggy had knife throwing lessons.
This little piggy had none.
This little piggy bled wee, wee, wee, wee
All the way home.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
EYE Surgery
Tomorrow at 7:45 mom reports to the surgery center. It is just a routine cataract surgery. It's no big deal. The last one went well except she was disoriented before surgery so I had to stay with her in the hall before they wheeled her in.
She's gonna need drops, like last time, for 3 weeks. She'll be staying with me for the duration.
Fortunately, Ray has done the handiwork to make her a room. Brian has moved up a lot of her stuff, and we are trying to have fun each day, but already, I seem to annoy her.
It's easy to annoy her when she is tired. We are all that way. She just seems like she has good days and bad days.
On Tuesday or Wednesday morning, she and I, her two dogs, her partially feral cat, and whatever we can fit in the BMW, are driving to my house. The problem is the heat is stuck in the on position. Ray checked each of the fuses, it wasn't a fuse, and still, it is damn hot. The top can't be put down without fear that the dogs will escape. I bought two small, soft sided coolers to fill with water and some snacks. She has a freezer of food, but there is no way it would last the 300 mile drive. My husband suggested I wait until 3:00 am to beat the traffic and the heat.
It's gonna suck.
The other part that sucks is... I lost my wallet, credit cards, identification,etc. Mom lost her license too, and her tags are out of date. OMG, I get the message to slow down!
I just took mom to dinner. She's watching TV and resting. Maybe we'll walk the dog later and do something for fun before the end of the night. I am thinking ice cream. I am going to get fat on the "take care of mom" diet.
Update, after surgery mom decided we had to go find food. We went to Fat Cats. She lied to the staff about owning a restaurant. It is so natural for her to lie, it's effortless. She went on and on about the timing of what came out, as if a burger joint is a 5 star experience. I took her to See Canyon, after she wanted ice cream. Sometimes she is like a child.
We went to the Madonna Inn and ordered 2 fudge sundaes. Her ice cream was melted. She went postal. It was awful.
She's gonna need drops, like last time, for 3 weeks. She'll be staying with me for the duration.
Fortunately, Ray has done the handiwork to make her a room. Brian has moved up a lot of her stuff, and we are trying to have fun each day, but already, I seem to annoy her.
It's easy to annoy her when she is tired. We are all that way. She just seems like she has good days and bad days.
On Tuesday or Wednesday morning, she and I, her two dogs, her partially feral cat, and whatever we can fit in the BMW, are driving to my house. The problem is the heat is stuck in the on position. Ray checked each of the fuses, it wasn't a fuse, and still, it is damn hot. The top can't be put down without fear that the dogs will escape. I bought two small, soft sided coolers to fill with water and some snacks. She has a freezer of food, but there is no way it would last the 300 mile drive. My husband suggested I wait until 3:00 am to beat the traffic and the heat.
It's gonna suck.
The other part that sucks is... I lost my wallet, credit cards, identification,etc. Mom lost her license too, and her tags are out of date. OMG, I get the message to slow down!
I just took mom to dinner. She's watching TV and resting. Maybe we'll walk the dog later and do something for fun before the end of the night. I am thinking ice cream. I am going to get fat on the "take care of mom" diet.
Update, after surgery mom decided we had to go find food. We went to Fat Cats. She lied to the staff about owning a restaurant. It is so natural for her to lie, it's effortless. She went on and on about the timing of what came out, as if a burger joint is a 5 star experience. I took her to See Canyon, after she wanted ice cream. Sometimes she is like a child.
We went to the Madonna Inn and ordered 2 fudge sundaes. Her ice cream was melted. She went postal. It was awful.
Cords
There are umbilical cords, musical chords, and even Cordon Blue, but the cords that are bothering mom tonight belong to the television. She has this whole new neurotic riff on the vulnerability of her dogs' lives and cords.
It started with the windows. She has had a beach house for quite some time, and until recently, she wanted to put more windows in and widen the view. Then this new riff started. She has to make sure every cord of every blind is knotted at the top of the window, and she prefers each blind closed tight and dark like a fist. before leaving, she checks every window, every cord, knotts and lift anything that might dangle near the throat of her elderly dogs.
She enters the bathroom and closes the door tight, making sure the dogs cannot enter and become trapped.
She goes to each electrical outlet and unplugs appliances. She unplugs the large TV and hides the cords. She unplugs the small tv and hides the cords. If I leave something like a computer cord out, she will hide it and it will be very hard to find. Her rituals are predictable and time consuming. Upon return, she doesn't remember why things are unplugged. It is always a mystery.
Often, when she is here, nothing works when she wants it. The television, the computer, the other television; things are silent.
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Everything is unplugged or the extension cords area hidden somewhere. The dogs sleep or scratch their fleas. They are fat, old, lazy, and used to sitting with her in her three dog chair. One is an ugly, yoda-like mutt the size of a small chihuahua. The other is a fat, fluffy cockapoo who could impersonate a white Raggedy-Anne. These are not bouncy dogs. They bark and bark, but they are not very active, except for the respectable dog behavior of scratching of fleas.
I wonder what will happen at my house. I wonder what thing she will leave done or undone, hidden or sabotaged. So far, I have lost my glasses for 4 days, then found them in her purse. I have found Brian's glasses in her purse too. She has taken hats and blankets too. Recently, she left the hose on for hours, flooding water into the street, and has let the dogs in when the rabbit was in the house, even though her dogs could kill her. She also rarely showers. It takes about 4 days for her to get the idea of showering. It's truly odd to watch her go from being herself, to being an angry car passenger, to being talkative to strangers, then to not remembering where she is, and back again.
There are heart cords and the cords that bind. Sometimes the cords unwind.
It started with the windows. She has had a beach house for quite some time, and until recently, she wanted to put more windows in and widen the view. Then this new riff started. She has to make sure every cord of every blind is knotted at the top of the window, and she prefers each blind closed tight and dark like a fist. before leaving, she checks every window, every cord, knotts and lift anything that might dangle near the throat of her elderly dogs.
She enters the bathroom and closes the door tight, making sure the dogs cannot enter and become trapped.
She goes to each electrical outlet and unplugs appliances. She unplugs the large TV and hides the cords. She unplugs the small tv and hides the cords. If I leave something like a computer cord out, she will hide it and it will be very hard to find. Her rituals are predictable and time consuming. Upon return, she doesn't remember why things are unplugged. It is always a mystery.
Often, when she is here, nothing works when she wants it. The television, the computer, the other television; things are silent.
.jpg)
I wonder what will happen at my house. I wonder what thing she will leave done or undone, hidden or sabotaged. So far, I have lost my glasses for 4 days, then found them in her purse. I have found Brian's glasses in her purse too. She has taken hats and blankets too. Recently, she left the hose on for hours, flooding water into the street, and has let the dogs in when the rabbit was in the house, even though her dogs could kill her. She also rarely showers. It takes about 4 days for her to get the idea of showering. It's truly odd to watch her go from being herself, to being an angry car passenger, to being talkative to strangers, then to not remembering where she is, and back again.
There are heart cords and the cords that bind. Sometimes the cords unwind.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Loyalty
I need to be loyal to mom, and to self, and to family.
My days need to be structured.
I need to get up and take care of Caitlin, self, mom. I gotta do it.
My days need to be structured.
I need to get up and take care of Caitlin, self, mom. I gotta do it.
First day here after drive.
I was supposed to come home alone, rest, hang with the peeps for a few days, then return to take care of mom for eye surgery, except, she didn't want to be alone. And, there was a thunderstorm heading her way. The drive was uneventful. The dogs were great. She was agreeable to not stopping. We ate when we got here and the dogs were super fabulous.
But today, she goes from one task to another, not remembering what she is doing. The water got left on for way too long. She keeps insisting she has contacts, but she doesn't. She is good with the dogs, good with keeping track of them, but forgets simple things like: Don't let the dogs out. Moments later the dogs are out and she has forgotten the bunny. Oops, except the bunny is flesh and blood. The dogs are flesh, blood, and wired to eat rabbit. I am not sure what to do. I want my mom to be safe.
Only a few minutes ago I got tired of taking care of her for a few minutes. She got herself the left overs on the plate, but then forgot that she got a glass out. She brought 2 glasses in, got two glasses out of the fridge, the milk out, then poured the boiling tea I was steeping into a glass and drank it before I could stop her.
I had just asked her not to touch the pitcher that I was steeping for at least ten minutes.
She didn't get burned, but it was scary. At this point, Crystal is here with her girlfriend and they are hanging with mom. Crystal is so funny, she keeps things positive. I just realize I am stressed and maybe need some new strategies to take charge.
Something I noticed yesterday is that I have to be in charge, but with that, kindness is in order for every decision. J
But today, she goes from one task to another, not remembering what she is doing. The water got left on for way too long. She keeps insisting she has contacts, but she doesn't. She is good with the dogs, good with keeping track of them, but forgets simple things like: Don't let the dogs out. Moments later the dogs are out and she has forgotten the bunny. Oops, except the bunny is flesh and blood. The dogs are flesh, blood, and wired to eat rabbit. I am not sure what to do. I want my mom to be safe.
Only a few minutes ago I got tired of taking care of her for a few minutes. She got herself the left overs on the plate, but then forgot that she got a glass out. She brought 2 glasses in, got two glasses out of the fridge, the milk out, then poured the boiling tea I was steeping into a glass and drank it before I could stop her.
I had just asked her not to touch the pitcher that I was steeping for at least ten minutes.
She didn't get burned, but it was scary. At this point, Crystal is here with her girlfriend and they are hanging with mom. Crystal is so funny, she keeps things positive. I just realize I am stressed and maybe need some new strategies to take charge.
Something I noticed yesterday is that I have to be in charge, but with that, kindness is in order for every decision. J
Sunday, September 2, 2012
mom's losing it.
Mom has a creeping form of dementia. She is fine in so many ways, but those darn frontal lobes just seem to be MIA. She makes bad decisions, she's lonely, and she just writes checks for all the wrong reasons.
We noticed that she was in trouble only after she lost her house to the bank. She was always too busy to visit, too busy to talk, too involved in her tour business. I watched her at the ATM and realized that my smart mom had suddenly become unable to operate an ATM. I easily gave her a pass on that because I am often befuddled at new gas station ATM machines. Machines are new and improved faster than my neurons can dance. I get it. But this was different.
When she lost her house, she seemed to be in denial. My brother and I went down to sort things out. She was angry, yelled at us, and got easily frustrated. It was sort of like the time she had early throat cancer and couldn't speak for 6 weeks. She sounded like a mouse and we did everything we could to press her buttons to hear her screech. This time, it was too easy to press her buttons, and too easily was she she pushed to cry. Something was terribly wrong.
After the move, the storage units, the overwhelming upstairs room full of boxes, I took her to a neurological wizard. He warned of nerve damage, and there were problems with her white matter. He said she had damage to her spine, but the amounts of white matter and the reduced blood flow would continue to erode her brain function. We saw him in Southern California, and we haven't gone back. A new doctor, Dr. Bhat, seemed to be oblivious to her squirrelly brain, but he did prescribe Arecept and Namenda, both are medicines for Alzheimer's or Dementia.
She has lived in the new place for a few years, loses track of time, doesn't pay any bills, has a pill reminder, doesn't clean, has a place full of rotten food and fleas, no longer walks her dogs, imagines that she is ok, and gets dizzy when she stands. She doesn't bathe so often, and she repeats herself all day.
She looks disheveled, her hair is a mess, she imagines she has contact lenses and needs drops, but has never worn contacts in her life. She is currently in my garage conversion room, her new room, but often doesn't remember where she is or how she got here. She thinks her dogs are in distress and wants to administer enemas. Enemas. What is it with the 1950's that made adults want to solve all health problems with anal washes?
She is sure that suppositories and enemas will make her dog feel better. There is a partially used bottle on her bathroom counter last time I checked.
Her dog has fleas. I treated it with flea meds twice in two weeks and it is now flea free. Still, mom insists on giving it baby aspirin. She would love to give it an enema again, but I won't let her.
Tomorrow, she and I will leave my house with her dogs, drive 300 miles, go to her house where my daughter and her husband have just cleaned her carpet, and she will see her doctor for approval of her next cataract surgery. It is scheduled September 10th. She is to move in right after the surgery.
She has a room, but I don't know how to keep her asleep through her 4 times of waking up with the dogs and yelling at them as if she was on the prairie with no neighbors. I don't know how to get her not to knock on my bedroom door, over and over to ask simple questions while we are sleeping, or walking in on my husband in the bathroom. Her ideas of personal space, boundaries, and mores, are gone. She is a lot like an innocent child who follows free will without the burden of forethought.
How do I protect the sanity of my husband while fielding mom's needs?
I am not sure, but mom is losing it.
We noticed that she was in trouble only after she lost her house to the bank. She was always too busy to visit, too busy to talk, too involved in her tour business. I watched her at the ATM and realized that my smart mom had suddenly become unable to operate an ATM. I easily gave her a pass on that because I am often befuddled at new gas station ATM machines. Machines are new and improved faster than my neurons can dance. I get it. But this was different.
When she lost her house, she seemed to be in denial. My brother and I went down to sort things out. She was angry, yelled at us, and got easily frustrated. It was sort of like the time she had early throat cancer and couldn't speak for 6 weeks. She sounded like a mouse and we did everything we could to press her buttons to hear her screech. This time, it was too easy to press her buttons, and too easily was she she pushed to cry. Something was terribly wrong.
After the move, the storage units, the overwhelming upstairs room full of boxes, I took her to a neurological wizard. He warned of nerve damage, and there were problems with her white matter. He said she had damage to her spine, but the amounts of white matter and the reduced blood flow would continue to erode her brain function. We saw him in Southern California, and we haven't gone back. A new doctor, Dr. Bhat, seemed to be oblivious to her squirrelly brain, but he did prescribe Arecept and Namenda, both are medicines for Alzheimer's or Dementia.
She has lived in the new place for a few years, loses track of time, doesn't pay any bills, has a pill reminder, doesn't clean, has a place full of rotten food and fleas, no longer walks her dogs, imagines that she is ok, and gets dizzy when she stands. She doesn't bathe so often, and she repeats herself all day.
She looks disheveled, her hair is a mess, she imagines she has contact lenses and needs drops, but has never worn contacts in her life. She is currently in my garage conversion room, her new room, but often doesn't remember where she is or how she got here. She thinks her dogs are in distress and wants to administer enemas. Enemas. What is it with the 1950's that made adults want to solve all health problems with anal washes?
She is sure that suppositories and enemas will make her dog feel better. There is a partially used bottle on her bathroom counter last time I checked.
Her dog has fleas. I treated it with flea meds twice in two weeks and it is now flea free. Still, mom insists on giving it baby aspirin. She would love to give it an enema again, but I won't let her.
Tomorrow, she and I will leave my house with her dogs, drive 300 miles, go to her house where my daughter and her husband have just cleaned her carpet, and she will see her doctor for approval of her next cataract surgery. It is scheduled September 10th. She is to move in right after the surgery.
She has a room, but I don't know how to keep her asleep through her 4 times of waking up with the dogs and yelling at them as if she was on the prairie with no neighbors. I don't know how to get her not to knock on my bedroom door, over and over to ask simple questions while we are sleeping, or walking in on my husband in the bathroom. Her ideas of personal space, boundaries, and mores, are gone. She is a lot like an innocent child who follows free will without the burden of forethought.
How do I protect the sanity of my husband while fielding mom's needs?
I am not sure, but mom is losing it.
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