As mom's physical issues grew, we moved her from her place downtown, to a home across the street from mine. But since neither my mom, myself, or my sister have gone through the aging process we are all just novices at this. Not long ago mom actually said to me that getting old had never been anticipated. I guess she knew people who remained spry till the end of life, or maybe difficulties were never made public. I think theirs was a very private generation.
She is no longer driving, and that fact, itself, is the reason she claims to have no life. She has always had a very hard time asking for help, from anyone, therefore she would never consider imposing on her friends for a trip to the store, for lunch, or even just company. Therefor I am her means toward happiness. I certainly don't mind, most of the time, as we quite often have a very nice time together, even if things don't happen as planned. We went to Bigfork for lunch yesterday, only to find that the town was closed. We were able to find a place for lunch, but her chicken noodle soup arrived scarce of noodles, and my grilled ham and cheese, showed up disguised as a cold ham sandwich dressed with mustard.
The fact that it was not grilled, could be dealt with, the mustard however was something entirely different. As a child, I consumed an entire bottle of orange baby aspirin. Our family doctor lived just down the block. He advised mom to give me warm water and mustard to induce vomiting, thus eliminating a trip to the office to have my stomach pumped. The recipe was a winner, but mustard is now at the top of my do not eat list.
This is where my TBI comes into play. I was not willing to tell the waitress what I received, was not what I ordered. You see, I am never entirely sure what has come out of my mouth just moments before. I had asked her about the ham, specifically, but I was not sure if I had actually ordered it grilled with cheese. Mom and I laughed about the entire day going from bad to worse, as I ate the side without condiments; in essence bread, ham and lettuce, and she stirred through her soup in search of the elusive noodle.
Her mother, Vi LaBonty died with the horrible disease Alzheimer's, and my mom watched her slow decline, so I'm sure it has always been in the back of our minds, as a distinct possibility. Earlier this week she told me, in tears, that she is aware she is sliding down the slippery slope of dementia, or possibly Alzheimer's. Well, I am somewhat relieved because it's now out in the open, but I'm more certain that ever the hardest times are still ahead of us.
After more than a year of actually filling the caregiver role with my mom, I have composed a list of expectations relevant to her care, in order for her to remain as happy as possible.
- Address medical concerns as soon as possible, but then forget about them and continue as if they never occurred.
- Make sure all household maintenance items are attended to quickly, and seamlessly.
- Always have on hand the following:
- bottle of wine
- Winston red pack cigs
- tapioca pudding, cookies, and individual servings of orange juice
- Make time to just sit and be with her, sharing her wine.
- Listen to her stories, even if you have heard them, and even if you doubt the validity.
- Favorite activities include:
- meals out, but no fast food
- shopping for herself
- shopping for whoever she is with
Today is my birthday, so we are going to Target, and to lunch! Hope it's not closed!
