Yes, that is what I heard tonight from my upstairs office. Preceding this was a combination scream/maniacal laugh coming from Blanche. I really could not tell which it was supposed to be. I calmly walked downstairs to find Blanche sitting on the couch clutching Tracy's hand. Tracy was telling her to let go of her hand, but Blanche would not do that. So I looked at her and said, "what's the matter?" Blanche did not respond to me at all, and finally Tracy was able to free her hand. So Tracy said to her, "I'll heat up a piece of pizza for you and we're going over to your house so you can eat it over there, okay?"
And Blanche responded with "oh I don't think so. I can just imagine what you're going to put in it." Blanche had calmed down once I came downstairs, but after Tracy heated up her pizza and sent her home, she told me what had happened. Tracy was attempting to lead Blanche back over to her apartment because she was wandering around, looking through our mail and generally being a nuisance as Tracy and I were both trying to work on this snowy Friday. (She's a nuisance because she just asks the same questions over and over and over and over, well, you get it.) That's when Blanche flipped out and actually tried to bite Tracy's hand! Tracy held her off and that's when Blanche screamed for me to help her because Tracy was trying to kill her! So that's definitely a new thing and I hope it doesn't last too long.
Yesterday, the doctor started Blanche on medication for her afternoon paranoia, but I'm not sure how long it can take to make a difference. The behavior does seem to be escalating. It starts earlier in the day, so hopefully when we change the caregiver's hours to 1 to 4, instead of 11 to 2, it will give me that additional couple of hours so I can continue to work. Once Blanche starts banging on the door, whether it's 2 p.m. or 4 p.m., my workday is done. She simply requires constant attention because we don't know what she will do when she is in our house.
After she ate her pizza and came back over, it was as if it had never happened. So there we were, Tracy and me, still stewing over this new, big incident, and Blanche had no idea it had even happened. Welcome to our world...
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Can I borrow your car...
...so I can get away? That was the frantic question today from Blanche. She was convinced that "the man" was coming to get her cat. So she rationalized that if I would just give her the keys to my car, she could get away. Blanche insisted that she would take her cat, Cleo, to her mother's house in Shelton and then she would be safe. This is where I get confused. Am I supposed to tell her that her mother has been gone for years? Or do I go along with the charade just to try to get her to settle down?
I had decided that if I just ignore the banging on the door, I could continue working and Blanche would just come every few minutes, bang a little, then go home. But today, she practically tore the door down and combined her banging with screaming "help me, help me." It was horrible.
Today was such a bad day, I can't even write about it anymore.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
There's a Police Car in our Driveway!
So Tracy took me to the eye doctor yesterday. We were gone about three hours. When we got home, it was about 4:30 and there was a police car in our driveway. We walked around to the back of the house, where Blanche's entrance is, and there they were up on the porch, Blanche and one of Seymour's finest. The police officer was taking the screen off of the kitchen window to Blanche's apartment and Blanche was standing there clutching her telephone. She had locked herself out of the house! We don't know how long she had been outside and fortunately it was not cold yesterday.
I asked the officer who had called him and his answer wasn't quite clear. I think he said the lady next door had come over to help Blanche and that the neighbor had probably made the call. I highly doubt Blanche could have made it. So Tracy explained to the officer that her mother has Alzheimer's and he asked if she is registered with the Seymour Police Department. Since we had no idea there was such a program, we said no, but we'll get her registered as soon as possible. It's amazing how easy it is to learn about programs and things available for people with Alzheimer's. I'm being sarcastic here because it's amazing how much caregivers can learn AFTER something bad happens. Oh well.
So after we get Blanche safe and sound back in the house, she spends the next two hours during and after dinner asking Tracy where she was going to sleep that night. I have learned that a rational human being can answer the same question calmly maybe three times maximum. After that, it's going to get ugly!
Tonight, I was by myself with Blanche. The caregiver was with her from 11 a.m. until 2 p.m. At around 3, Blanche started pounding on the new door we put up between her apartment and our house. I hang a sign on that door which is a note to Blanche, which tells her that I am working and she should not bang on the door until after 5 p.m. The sign works great (again, sarcasm). So I just continue to work and fortunately, the pounding is periodic. It only happens every 8 or 9 minutes from around 3 p.m. until I open the door when I am done working for the day. The problem is that I work upstairs in my office and Blanche cannot be left alone downstairs in our house because she does odd things. She feeds the dogs people food, she feeds the cats dog food, she puts things where we are sure to never find them, she goes through (and takes) our mail, and the list goes on and on. As harsh as it may sound, that is why she is locked out of our house during the day.
One more thing about today. After the second round of very loud banging, my phone started to ring. It was Blanche! So she can use the phone, which I don't know if that's good or bad. Anyway, she asks for Tracy and I say it's JoAnn. She asks me when I'm coming home. I tell her that I'll be done working at 5 p.m. and that she can come over then. So she asks me where I am now and where I'll be coming from. I try for the next 10 minutes to explain but it is to no avail. So I finally settle for telling her that we are having dinner at 5 p.m. and I'll come to get her so she shouldn't worry. I told her that I know how to get to her house and that seems to satisfy her.
We hang up the phone and 8 minutes later, she is pounding on the door downstairs again...take two Excedrin and repeat tomorrow...
I asked the officer who had called him and his answer wasn't quite clear. I think he said the lady next door had come over to help Blanche and that the neighbor had probably made the call. I highly doubt Blanche could have made it. So Tracy explained to the officer that her mother has Alzheimer's and he asked if she is registered with the Seymour Police Department. Since we had no idea there was such a program, we said no, but we'll get her registered as soon as possible. It's amazing how easy it is to learn about programs and things available for people with Alzheimer's. I'm being sarcastic here because it's amazing how much caregivers can learn AFTER something bad happens. Oh well.
So after we get Blanche safe and sound back in the house, she spends the next two hours during and after dinner asking Tracy where she was going to sleep that night. I have learned that a rational human being can answer the same question calmly maybe three times maximum. After that, it's going to get ugly!
Tonight, I was by myself with Blanche. The caregiver was with her from 11 a.m. until 2 p.m. At around 3, Blanche started pounding on the new door we put up between her apartment and our house. I hang a sign on that door which is a note to Blanche, which tells her that I am working and she should not bang on the door until after 5 p.m. The sign works great (again, sarcasm). So I just continue to work and fortunately, the pounding is periodic. It only happens every 8 or 9 minutes from around 3 p.m. until I open the door when I am done working for the day. The problem is that I work upstairs in my office and Blanche cannot be left alone downstairs in our house because she does odd things. She feeds the dogs people food, she feeds the cats dog food, she puts things where we are sure to never find them, she goes through (and takes) our mail, and the list goes on and on. As harsh as it may sound, that is why she is locked out of our house during the day.
One more thing about today. After the second round of very loud banging, my phone started to ring. It was Blanche! So she can use the phone, which I don't know if that's good or bad. Anyway, she asks for Tracy and I say it's JoAnn. She asks me when I'm coming home. I tell her that I'll be done working at 5 p.m. and that she can come over then. So she asks me where I am now and where I'll be coming from. I try for the next 10 minutes to explain but it is to no avail. So I finally settle for telling her that we are having dinner at 5 p.m. and I'll come to get her so she shouldn't worry. I told her that I know how to get to her house and that seems to satisfy her.
We hang up the phone and 8 minutes later, she is pounding on the door downstairs again...take two Excedrin and repeat tomorrow...
Saturday, December 6, 2008
I'm Not Proud of this Post.
Two days ago, on Thursday, I yelled at Blanche. And I mean, I yelled at her. We were sitting in the living room having dinner - we eat on tray tables in front of the TV. I know, not the best idea, but with the TV noise, we don't hear the increasingly loud noises that Blanche makes while she eats. Selfish of us, but walk a mile in our shoes before you toss those stones. Tracy was in the kitchen and I got up and brought my plate into the kitchen. As I came back into the living room, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Blanche toss a piece of pork to my dog, Petie, but I just wasn't sure.
So I sat back down and waited for her to finish eating, confident that if she had fed Petie, she wouldn't repeat it with me sitting right there. (Just for the record, we have told her repeatedly that the dogs cannot eat people food). So as I sat there, I watched her put a piece of pork in her hand, but she was eating it with her hand so I still thought it was okay. Then in the blink of an eye, with her left hand, she flipped the piece of pork to Hazel, my other dog. I just lost it! I said, "what are you doing?" She replied, "What?"
I said, "I've asked you repeatedly not to feed my dogs people food and you just did that exact thing!"
"No, I didn't", she said.
So I was so angry, I kept yelling at her. And like a child, she just got very quiet and went back to her apartment within five minutes of my tirade.
What's the point of this story? And I mean that literally - I'm asking you. There is no point. By the time she walked 1 minute back to her apartment she had no memory of our altercation and I was left steaming for the next hour.
So, here I sit, on a Saturday night, still feeling bad, and trying to be a better person about this whole situation. But it is a constant struggle. I know it won't be like this forever and we just have to hang in there and continue to do the right thing and make sure Blanche is taken care of for as long as we can take care of her. It's hard to remember that in the moments when she's tossing pork to my dogs...bye for now.
So I sat back down and waited for her to finish eating, confident that if she had fed Petie, she wouldn't repeat it with me sitting right there. (Just for the record, we have told her repeatedly that the dogs cannot eat people food). So as I sat there, I watched her put a piece of pork in her hand, but she was eating it with her hand so I still thought it was okay. Then in the blink of an eye, with her left hand, she flipped the piece of pork to Hazel, my other dog. I just lost it! I said, "what are you doing?" She replied, "What?"
I said, "I've asked you repeatedly not to feed my dogs people food and you just did that exact thing!"
"No, I didn't", she said.
So I was so angry, I kept yelling at her. And like a child, she just got very quiet and went back to her apartment within five minutes of my tirade.
What's the point of this story? And I mean that literally - I'm asking you. There is no point. By the time she walked 1 minute back to her apartment she had no memory of our altercation and I was left steaming for the next hour.
So, here I sit, on a Saturday night, still feeling bad, and trying to be a better person about this whole situation. But it is a constant struggle. I know it won't be like this forever and we just have to hang in there and continue to do the right thing and make sure Blanche is taken care of for as long as we can take care of her. It's hard to remember that in the moments when she's tossing pork to my dogs...bye for now.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
"The Son Sitting in the Chair..."
...turned out to be Blanche's cat, Cleo. I found that out when I made her go back to her apartment with me right behind her so I could confront for her all of the "people" that were hanging out in her apartment. We walked in and there was Cleo, sitting in a chair. So I asked Blanche if that was "the son sitting in the chair" and she said yes. Another mystery solved, until tomorrow when I am certain we will repeat the entire exercise again.
Just to digress for a moment, yesterday Blanche told me she had to go back to her apartment because her husband was waiting for her over there. Since he died in 2004, I told her yes, he's waiting for you, but not over in your apartment! (Just kidding - I just thought that. I didn't really say it out loud, although I am tempted sometimes because she would never remember from one moment to the next what was just said.)
Our next challenge will be getting the caregiver that comes in four days a week to actually DO something when she is spending time with Blanche. It's been quite a learning experience for us regarding what professional caregivers say they will do and what they actually do! For example, when we went on vacation in September, we had a full-time caregiver living with Blanche. We had a meeting with the caregiver and the office manager and the liasion to make sure everyone was on the same page and that they knew what to do. Well, apparently even though the office manager was taking notes, she never passed those notes on to the caregiver when it came time for her to stay full-time with Blanche for 10 days.
So when we came home, most of the instructions we had given were not followed and it was extremely annoying and frustrating to think for $220.00 per day (plus meals and mileage), we did not receive the services we were supposed to receive. When I spoke to the office manager on our return, her response was that the caregiver needed to take better notes next time! When I pointed out that everyone was taking notes during that meeting, the office manager just glossed over that and did not really respond. The last thing I have to say is that when we signed on with this company (who shall remain nameless), they put a notebook in Blanche's apartment that they would fill out as a daily log as to what they were doing each day and how Blanche was doing. I ended up having to call TWICE to ask them to please fill out the log everyday as that is our only resource to keep us informed as to what goes on during the day.
The moral of the story here that no matter how reputable the company, or group or person, or how highly recommended they are, it is up to you, and you alone, to keep on top of things regularly and make sure your loved one is getting the care that you are paying for and the services that you are paying for. It's simple really. Hope this helps someone else who may be in the same situation. If you must know the group we are using, contact me privately and I will tell you who they are. I will also tell you that we continue to use them, but we are much more diligent in making sure they do what they are supposed to do.
Just to digress for a moment, yesterday Blanche told me she had to go back to her apartment because her husband was waiting for her over there. Since he died in 2004, I told her yes, he's waiting for you, but not over in your apartment! (Just kidding - I just thought that. I didn't really say it out loud, although I am tempted sometimes because she would never remember from one moment to the next what was just said.)
Our next challenge will be getting the caregiver that comes in four days a week to actually DO something when she is spending time with Blanche. It's been quite a learning experience for us regarding what professional caregivers say they will do and what they actually do! For example, when we went on vacation in September, we had a full-time caregiver living with Blanche. We had a meeting with the caregiver and the office manager and the liasion to make sure everyone was on the same page and that they knew what to do. Well, apparently even though the office manager was taking notes, she never passed those notes on to the caregiver when it came time for her to stay full-time with Blanche for 10 days.
So when we came home, most of the instructions we had given were not followed and it was extremely annoying and frustrating to think for $220.00 per day (plus meals and mileage), we did not receive the services we were supposed to receive. When I spoke to the office manager on our return, her response was that the caregiver needed to take better notes next time! When I pointed out that everyone was taking notes during that meeting, the office manager just glossed over that and did not really respond. The last thing I have to say is that when we signed on with this company (who shall remain nameless), they put a notebook in Blanche's apartment that they would fill out as a daily log as to what they were doing each day and how Blanche was doing. I ended up having to call TWICE to ask them to please fill out the log everyday as that is our only resource to keep us informed as to what goes on during the day.
The moral of the story here that no matter how reputable the company, or group or person, or how highly recommended they are, it is up to you, and you alone, to keep on top of things regularly and make sure your loved one is getting the care that you are paying for and the services that you are paying for. It's simple really. Hope this helps someone else who may be in the same situation. If you must know the group we are using, contact me privately and I will tell you who they are. I will also tell you that we continue to use them, but we are much more diligent in making sure they do what they are supposed to do.
Friday, November 21, 2008
My Children Are Missing!
That was today's theme. Starting at 3:30 - well before my 5:30 "stop working" time. I've been getting good at ignoring the intrusions but today Blanche banged so hard on the doors I thought they would come off the hinges. She tried to tell me her children were missing. I explained where both of her children were at that moment - Tracy at work; and her son Rich in Florida where he lives with his family.
Her response? "No, not those children. My little children." Okay, so I said, "you don't have any little children." "You don't know about them," she responded. I just ended up agreeing with her and walking away. No point in carrying that conversation any further than I needed to, right?
Today, I researched facilities where Blanche can go when the time is right. I personally think the time is right now, but I'm not her daughter. I'm not sure what Tracy's take is on it since we have difficulty discussing it most of the time.
Oops - hold on! Blanche just came over asking if my black cat Purr-Cee is her cat. We told her no, and Tracy asked her why she has a skirt on over her pajamas and Blanche said, "what difference does it make?" Ain't that the truth! What difference does it make? Usually once Blanche takes her night pills and goes over to her apartment, she does not come back. But tonight she was more agitated than usual and she came over twice. The first time she was asking for something to feed her cat. So Tracy went home with her to show her the 24 cans of cat food we had bought her on Sunday and that ended that event. So obviously she is still agitated or she would not have come back over.
Back to the assisted living facilities. I found a handful of places in New Haven County that offer "Memory Care Services". It's all so nice and sanitized. The woman is losing her mind and she seems to have more frequent moments of clarity. At least once a day, she flat out says to me, "I think I'm losing my mind", and I just try to reassure her that her memory is not so good these days. What the hell else am I supposed to tell her? I'm no therapist or counselor, but my take on it is that if her family spent more time with her talking about the past and reminiscing with her, she wouldn't be so agitated as much as she is. The problem is the only family that cares is Tracy and despite her many wonderful qualities, patience is not her strong suit. She has a sister in Connecticut, but if she's in contact with Blanche, I'm not aware of it. Given that she's a nurse and must understand how this illness works, she should be in contact with her sister on a daily basis. But Tracy has really been abandoned by her entire family at this point.
I'm not saying that there's only one way to handle someone with Alzheimer's, but that's personally what I would do if my mom or dad had the illness. My dad has been diagnosed with mild dementia and whenever I go visit them, I try to either bring old pictures for us to look at, or I just I just ask him about how things were when he was young. He has much more clarity when talking about the old days than if you try to ask him how his blood sugar was that day.
Let's end this session with the dream I had last night, well actually this morning. I slept poorly, waking about at least half a dozen times. So I slept in a little longer than usual and that's when I had the dream. My entire family on my mom's side was out our house. Blanche was being unbelievably annoying AND she had super-human strength! She tore the door off between our house and her apartment. Then she went to get a cup of coffee and I apparently yelled at her for something and she threw her coffee mug at me! It clocked me square on the forehead. It was so real that when I woke up, I immediately touched my hand to my forehead, expecting to feel a bump. Finally, in the dream, my mom was there to tell me that Blanche had slammed the coffee pot down on the counter and had broken it. Yikes! What does it all mean?
Her response? "No, not those children. My little children." Okay, so I said, "you don't have any little children." "You don't know about them," she responded. I just ended up agreeing with her and walking away. No point in carrying that conversation any further than I needed to, right?
Today, I researched facilities where Blanche can go when the time is right. I personally think the time is right now, but I'm not her daughter. I'm not sure what Tracy's take is on it since we have difficulty discussing it most of the time.
Oops - hold on! Blanche just came over asking if my black cat Purr-Cee is her cat. We told her no, and Tracy asked her why she has a skirt on over her pajamas and Blanche said, "what difference does it make?" Ain't that the truth! What difference does it make? Usually once Blanche takes her night pills and goes over to her apartment, she does not come back. But tonight she was more agitated than usual and she came over twice. The first time she was asking for something to feed her cat. So Tracy went home with her to show her the 24 cans of cat food we had bought her on Sunday and that ended that event. So obviously she is still agitated or she would not have come back over.
Back to the assisted living facilities. I found a handful of places in New Haven County that offer "Memory Care Services". It's all so nice and sanitized. The woman is losing her mind and she seems to have more frequent moments of clarity. At least once a day, she flat out says to me, "I think I'm losing my mind", and I just try to reassure her that her memory is not so good these days. What the hell else am I supposed to tell her? I'm no therapist or counselor, but my take on it is that if her family spent more time with her talking about the past and reminiscing with her, she wouldn't be so agitated as much as she is. The problem is the only family that cares is Tracy and despite her many wonderful qualities, patience is not her strong suit. She has a sister in Connecticut, but if she's in contact with Blanche, I'm not aware of it. Given that she's a nurse and must understand how this illness works, she should be in contact with her sister on a daily basis. But Tracy has really been abandoned by her entire family at this point.
I'm not saying that there's only one way to handle someone with Alzheimer's, but that's personally what I would do if my mom or dad had the illness. My dad has been diagnosed with mild dementia and whenever I go visit them, I try to either bring old pictures for us to look at, or I just I just ask him about how things were when he was young. He has much more clarity when talking about the old days than if you try to ask him how his blood sugar was that day.
Let's end this session with the dream I had last night, well actually this morning. I slept poorly, waking about at least half a dozen times. So I slept in a little longer than usual and that's when I had the dream. My entire family on my mom's side was out our house. Blanche was being unbelievably annoying AND she had super-human strength! She tore the door off between our house and her apartment. Then she went to get a cup of coffee and I apparently yelled at her for something and she threw her coffee mug at me! It clocked me square on the forehead. It was so real that when I woke up, I immediately touched my hand to my forehead, expecting to feel a bump. Finally, in the dream, my mom was there to tell me that Blanche had slammed the coffee pot down on the counter and had broken it. Yikes! What does it all mean?
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The Repetition is Maddening!!!
Yes, the repetition is maddening! I think that's the single most difficult part. Blanche doesn't know that between 4:15 and 5:45 today she came back and forth between her apartment and our house 11 times. No really.
The highlight of today was the new drink that Blanche invented. It consists of Diet Pepsi, fat free Half & Half and ice cubes. I tried to stop her but she insisted she drinks that all the time. Tracy was going to make her throw it away, but then we decided it didn't make much of a difference and we simply weren't up for one more argument.
So here we are, it's Tuesday night and I'm sitting in my chair; Tracy and Blanche are sitting on the couch because Blanche once again needed to talk to Tracy. By the time she sat down on the couch, all she could remember was that something was wrong and she needed to talk about it. So we don't know what it is because in the land of the sane, nothing is wrong. It's only wrong in Blanche's world and that my friends is the sadness of it all.
Blanche also said tonight that she needed to run right after dinner because Tracy was coming over to her apartment for dinner. What? Yeah, that's how I feel sometimes - like everyday. The more Blanche talks, the less sense she makes and you try to just carry on a mindless conversation anyway. There is only so much disagreeing, correcting and arguing a person can do in one day. I'm maxed out for today. Hang on while I grab a sip of wine...I drink a lot more at night than I ever used to.
So now the task falls on me to get a list of Alzheimer's facilities and start to call them to set up appointments for Tracy and I to go see. One more thing to add to the unending list.
Sometimes I feel like no one is on my side, but then today the thought struck me that there is one person on my side - Father Time! Father Time is looking out for me and he knows for sure that this too shall pass because everything (and everybody) passes at some point. If he could talk to me I think he would tell me to bide my time because even when I don't realize it, he is in action every single day, bringing Tracy and me one step closer to the freedom we used to have before Blanche moved in with us.
I know that sounds selfish but I challenge anyone out there to walk one mile, or one week, or even one day in our shoes and you will see what I mean. Blanche needs to live somewhere where they will care for her in every regard. There are some days when we are just not nice to her because we cannot take the repetition, the paranoia, the poor hygiene, the intrusiveness and everything else that goes with this illness for one more minute longer.
Even now as I write this, Blanche is talking to Tracy. Blanche says that her daughter Tracy is waiting for her over at her apartment. Tracy is trying to explain to her that she is Tracy and there is no other daughter over in her apartment. So Blanche said, what about my other child? And Tracy said that your other child is Richard and he's in Florida. So Blanche comes back with what about my other little child? Since there is no other little child, that is what Tracy tells her.
So then she asks Tracy, where am I going to sleep tonight? And Tracy says over in your apartment, in your bedroom. And Blanche says okay...and now I'm completely bored with this conversation and I need to go to my happy place for awhile. It's getting harder and harder to get there these days...but I'm counting heavily on my friend Father Time...
The highlight of today was the new drink that Blanche invented. It consists of Diet Pepsi, fat free Half & Half and ice cubes. I tried to stop her but she insisted she drinks that all the time. Tracy was going to make her throw it away, but then we decided it didn't make much of a difference and we simply weren't up for one more argument.
So here we are, it's Tuesday night and I'm sitting in my chair; Tracy and Blanche are sitting on the couch because Blanche once again needed to talk to Tracy. By the time she sat down on the couch, all she could remember was that something was wrong and she needed to talk about it. So we don't know what it is because in the land of the sane, nothing is wrong. It's only wrong in Blanche's world and that my friends is the sadness of it all.
Blanche also said tonight that she needed to run right after dinner because Tracy was coming over to her apartment for dinner. What? Yeah, that's how I feel sometimes - like everyday. The more Blanche talks, the less sense she makes and you try to just carry on a mindless conversation anyway. There is only so much disagreeing, correcting and arguing a person can do in one day. I'm maxed out for today. Hang on while I grab a sip of wine...I drink a lot more at night than I ever used to.
So now the task falls on me to get a list of Alzheimer's facilities and start to call them to set up appointments for Tracy and I to go see. One more thing to add to the unending list.
Sometimes I feel like no one is on my side, but then today the thought struck me that there is one person on my side - Father Time! Father Time is looking out for me and he knows for sure that this too shall pass because everything (and everybody) passes at some point. If he could talk to me I think he would tell me to bide my time because even when I don't realize it, he is in action every single day, bringing Tracy and me one step closer to the freedom we used to have before Blanche moved in with us.
I know that sounds selfish but I challenge anyone out there to walk one mile, or one week, or even one day in our shoes and you will see what I mean. Blanche needs to live somewhere where they will care for her in every regard. There are some days when we are just not nice to her because we cannot take the repetition, the paranoia, the poor hygiene, the intrusiveness and everything else that goes with this illness for one more minute longer.
Even now as I write this, Blanche is talking to Tracy. Blanche says that her daughter Tracy is waiting for her over at her apartment. Tracy is trying to explain to her that she is Tracy and there is no other daughter over in her apartment. So Blanche said, what about my other child? And Tracy said that your other child is Richard and he's in Florida. So Blanche comes back with what about my other little child? Since there is no other little child, that is what Tracy tells her.
So then she asks Tracy, where am I going to sleep tonight? And Tracy says over in your apartment, in your bedroom. And Blanche says okay...and now I'm completely bored with this conversation and I need to go to my happy place for awhile. It's getting harder and harder to get there these days...but I'm counting heavily on my friend Father Time...
Monday, November 17, 2008
The Journey Gets a Little Harder
I haven't written in a while because, well, because I guess I'm not in the routine of writing in a blog yet. "They" say that it takes 21 days of doing something consecutively to make it a part of your routine. I'm not even close yet.
We've had some truly interesting developments. The "sundowning" seems to have subsided somewhat and is not so pronounced in the late afternoons as it used to be. However, Blanche is giving Tracy a harder time with each passing day. Saturday's argument once again centered around showering and it took Tracy a full three hours of arguing to get her mother into the shower! Not an easy task considering Tracy had hours and hours of work to do over the weekend to prepare for a Monday morning meeting.
Blanche has also started just saying words that don't mean anything - either when she tries to put them into a sentence or just speak them individually. I'll try to listen closer and give you an example the next time I blog in.
I did discover an interesting thing. I put up a sign on the doors leading into our house from Blanche's apartment. The sign used to say: "JoAnn is working today. Please do not disturb until after 5:30. Thanks." Now the sign says: "Blanche - I am working today. Please do not bang on the door until after 5:30. Thanks. JoAnn."
The first day I put that new sign up, Blanche did not bang on the door once! She tried to push her way through the door at least a dozen times after her caregiver left at 2 p.m., but she did not bang on the door at all! Go figure. Maybe if I combine the "do not bang" part with the "do not disturb" part, she'll simply read the sign and go back to her apartment. We'll see. I'll keep you posted.
Until next time...JoAnn
We've had some truly interesting developments. The "sundowning" seems to have subsided somewhat and is not so pronounced in the late afternoons as it used to be. However, Blanche is giving Tracy a harder time with each passing day. Saturday's argument once again centered around showering and it took Tracy a full three hours of arguing to get her mother into the shower! Not an easy task considering Tracy had hours and hours of work to do over the weekend to prepare for a Monday morning meeting.
Blanche has also started just saying words that don't mean anything - either when she tries to put them into a sentence or just speak them individually. I'll try to listen closer and give you an example the next time I blog in.
I did discover an interesting thing. I put up a sign on the doors leading into our house from Blanche's apartment. The sign used to say: "JoAnn is working today. Please do not disturb until after 5:30. Thanks." Now the sign says: "Blanche - I am working today. Please do not bang on the door until after 5:30. Thanks. JoAnn."
The first day I put that new sign up, Blanche did not bang on the door once! She tried to push her way through the door at least a dozen times after her caregiver left at 2 p.m., but she did not bang on the door at all! Go figure. Maybe if I combine the "do not bang" part with the "do not disturb" part, she'll simply read the sign and go back to her apartment. We'll see. I'll keep you posted.
Until next time...JoAnn
Friday, November 7, 2008
The Fella' Who Feeds Me
Mid-afternoon brought the banging on the doors to get into our house. I'm becoming numb to it; it's a slow process of desensitizing myself in this particular situation. I headed downstairs around 4:30, an hour before I should have stopped working, but hopefully I'll be able to last longer once my desensitizing is complete. Today we really engaged in conversation - at least I let Blanche talk and talk she did. She was trying to explain to me that the "fella' who feeds me" isn't doing it all the time or doing it right. I explained her to her that daughter Tracy is the one who does most of the cooking around the house for us, and she gave her standard "that's not what I meant" answer and we were on to the next topic.
But then things took a turn. Blanche became very agitated and told me something was wrong but she couldn't put her finger on it. When she first came over, she was clutching her purse and said she was going to go to "the building one over" to talk to someone. I asked if she meant the house next door and she said yes. I asked her if she knew the Polish couple well enough to go over and talk to them. She said no she didn't, but she did not know what was going on, but she needed to talk to someone. I spent about 10 minutes explaining that everything was fine, it was a perfectly normal day and that she did not have anything to worry about. She told me that everything was normal until someone came and killed her dog. I explained that she did not have a dog, she only had a cat, and if that had really happened, Tracy and I would have known about and we would have done something about it.
That seemed to calm her down so I kept telling her in a conversation-type tone that she did not have anything to worry about and she should just have a seat and read the paper while we waited for Tracy to come home from work.
It's getting harder to explain in writing my conversations with Blanche because they are becoming more and more confusing. Tonight, in order to cope, I'm drinking heavily so I don't feel so sorry for myself because this is what I'm doing on a Friday night! I stumbled on a bucket of frozen strawberry daiquiri's in the freezer downstairs - jackpot! This too shall pass.
The rest of our dinner chat focused on a phone "conversation" Blanche had today with her mother. (Yes, you are correct - her mother has been gone for many years). That lead us into a conversation about children, phone calls during dinner and her late husband making faces whenever his mother called them during dinner. Keep in mind that I translate much of this for your reading pleasure because Blanche never actually uses names or identifies people. It's more "he was on the phone making faces" type of thing and I try to guess who she is talking about. A little more alcohol and this could actually be fun for me.
Next, Blanche headed over to her apartment and came back about five minutes later. She informed me that her son was over in her apartment and she just wanted to check and make sure he was okay. I had to cal her on this one, so we went back over to look through her apartment and guess what - her son who lives in Florida was not there! Surprise, surprise...
Well, unless she comes back over tonight, I guess that's it for today. If anyone ever reads this, I hope you get something out of it. Learn how to talk to someone suffering from Alzheimer's. Understand that we cannot imagine in our wildest dreams what they are going through. Little pieces of Blanche's mind are slowly being destroyed. Words are disappearing; people are disappearing (or re-appearing); an apartment empty except for a cat is turning into Grand Central Station with any number of people passing through each day and I envision her brain as one big knot that can no longer untangle even the simplest thing.
I hope that I never again know anyone with this horrific affliction. Bye for now.
But then things took a turn. Blanche became very agitated and told me something was wrong but she couldn't put her finger on it. When she first came over, she was clutching her purse and said she was going to go to "the building one over" to talk to someone. I asked if she meant the house next door and she said yes. I asked her if she knew the Polish couple well enough to go over and talk to them. She said no she didn't, but she did not know what was going on, but she needed to talk to someone. I spent about 10 minutes explaining that everything was fine, it was a perfectly normal day and that she did not have anything to worry about. She told me that everything was normal until someone came and killed her dog. I explained that she did not have a dog, she only had a cat, and if that had really happened, Tracy and I would have known about and we would have done something about it.
That seemed to calm her down so I kept telling her in a conversation-type tone that she did not have anything to worry about and she should just have a seat and read the paper while we waited for Tracy to come home from work.
It's getting harder to explain in writing my conversations with Blanche because they are becoming more and more confusing. Tonight, in order to cope, I'm drinking heavily so I don't feel so sorry for myself because this is what I'm doing on a Friday night! I stumbled on a bucket of frozen strawberry daiquiri's in the freezer downstairs - jackpot! This too shall pass.
The rest of our dinner chat focused on a phone "conversation" Blanche had today with her mother. (Yes, you are correct - her mother has been gone for many years). That lead us into a conversation about children, phone calls during dinner and her late husband making faces whenever his mother called them during dinner. Keep in mind that I translate much of this for your reading pleasure because Blanche never actually uses names or identifies people. It's more "he was on the phone making faces" type of thing and I try to guess who she is talking about. A little more alcohol and this could actually be fun for me.
Next, Blanche headed over to her apartment and came back about five minutes later. She informed me that her son was over in her apartment and she just wanted to check and make sure he was okay. I had to cal her on this one, so we went back over to look through her apartment and guess what - her son who lives in Florida was not there! Surprise, surprise...
Well, unless she comes back over tonight, I guess that's it for today. If anyone ever reads this, I hope you get something out of it. Learn how to talk to someone suffering from Alzheimer's. Understand that we cannot imagine in our wildest dreams what they are going through. Little pieces of Blanche's mind are slowly being destroyed. Words are disappearing; people are disappearing (or re-appearing); an apartment empty except for a cat is turning into Grand Central Station with any number of people passing through each day and I envision her brain as one big knot that can no longer untangle even the simplest thing.
I hope that I never again know anyone with this horrific affliction. Bye for now.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
It's a Great Day!
From an Alzheimer's perspective, today was a great day! Blanche started to bang on the door between her apartment and our house at around 3:30, but Tracy was coming to pick her up at 4-ish to take her for a flu shot, so the banging did not last very long. When they came home, we had dinner together and Blanche said goodnight. Saying goodnight and leaving immediately after dinner has become her new MO, which is really okay with us.
So, that's it for tonight!
So, that's it for tonight!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Mixing Drinks...
So today's new thing: Blanche attempted to mix her Citrus flavored diet soda with fat free half and half! When I stopped her, she said she drinks it like that all the time. But I stopped her anyway because I was just thinking that cannot possibly taste good. We also went around a few times about the guys that are after her cat. These guys do not exist. It's a part of Alzheimer's called "sundowning", and as the name suggests, when the sun starts to go down, the paranoia about these guys increases. No matter what we say or do, Blanche insists we do not know what is going on over at her place. Can you say frustrating?
And our last back and forth of the afternoon involved me asking Blanche repeatedly to take a shower and wash her hair and her telling me she already did, even though her hair was very dirty. The first time she went over to her place, she came back in 4.5 minutes (I timed it), and told me she had showered and washed her hair. I asked if she actually washed it or just wet it. She admitted she only wet it. Then she asked me if she could use our downstairs bathroom and I told her no and that she had to go home and take her shower in her own house in her beautiful walk-in shower. She said she did not know that she had a walk-in shower and she toddled back to her house for the sixth time in about 20 minutes.
And at the end of the day, when Tracy came home, she had to walk Blanche over to her house and escort her into the shower in order to get her body washed and her hair cleaned. So all my efforts were for naught. One of these days, I'll figure it out. I always feel like in the moment I can make a difference. But I can't and I need to accept that and stop wasting my time.
The final event for today - Blanche picked up her night-time pill case and told me she had a broken nail and she wanted to use the pill case to fix it. So, I took the pill case from her and gave her an emery board. She used that instead, surprise, it worked better!
That's one of the things about trying to help people with Alzheimer's. It's easy to lose sight of the fact that people afflicted with this illness are still human. I find myself becoming very detached and saying things to Blanche that I normally would not say to someone not suffering from this illness. I also talk to her exactly like I would to a child. I also have started to desensitize myself to her situation and that's not good either. I need to have more patience, not less, because the situation is not going to get easier any time soon. I am optimistic that writing this daily blog will help me get things off my chest and allow me to cope better.
Thanks for reading. Until next time...
And our last back and forth of the afternoon involved me asking Blanche repeatedly to take a shower and wash her hair and her telling me she already did, even though her hair was very dirty. The first time she went over to her place, she came back in 4.5 minutes (I timed it), and told me she had showered and washed her hair. I asked if she actually washed it or just wet it. She admitted she only wet it. Then she asked me if she could use our downstairs bathroom and I told her no and that she had to go home and take her shower in her own house in her beautiful walk-in shower. She said she did not know that she had a walk-in shower and she toddled back to her house for the sixth time in about 20 minutes.
And at the end of the day, when Tracy came home, she had to walk Blanche over to her house and escort her into the shower in order to get her body washed and her hair cleaned. So all my efforts were for naught. One of these days, I'll figure it out. I always feel like in the moment I can make a difference. But I can't and I need to accept that and stop wasting my time.
The final event for today - Blanche picked up her night-time pill case and told me she had a broken nail and she wanted to use the pill case to fix it. So, I took the pill case from her and gave her an emery board. She used that instead, surprise, it worked better!
That's one of the things about trying to help people with Alzheimer's. It's easy to lose sight of the fact that people afflicted with this illness are still human. I find myself becoming very detached and saying things to Blanche that I normally would not say to someone not suffering from this illness. I also talk to her exactly like I would to a child. I also have started to desensitize myself to her situation and that's not good either. I need to have more patience, not less, because the situation is not going to get easier any time soon. I am optimistic that writing this daily blog will help me get things off my chest and allow me to cope better.
Thanks for reading. Until next time...
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
How it all Began...
2006 - it seemed like a no-brainer at the time. My partner's mom, who was widowed and living in Florida, had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. It was clear that she could not continue to live alone so Tracy (my partner) decided it was best to discuss the situation with her brother, who lived about 20 minutes away from their mom in Florida. The decision was to sell Blanche's townhouse and split the money between them. They would each build an addition on their houses - his in Florida and ours in Connecticut. Blanche would live six months of the year with us; and the warmer six months with her son, daughter-in-law and two granddaughters.
This idea survived for about two weeks. Tracy received an email from her sister-in-law saying that she did not think it was a good idea for Blanche to live with them as she would be too "isolated". Right - with her son, daughter-in-law and two granddaughters. So, we stepped up and put a 640-square-foot addition on our house. It is a complete in-law apartment and is really very nice. So in August 2006, Tracy went to Florida, packed up the contents of the house and put them on a moving truck, loaded her mom and Cleo, the cat into her mom's car and drove to Connecticut.
From that point forward, the journey has been much more difficult than either of us could have imagined. We were warned by some family and some friends that what we were planning was a bad idea. But we know even today, that it was the right thing to do. Blanche was not ready for an assisted living facility in 2006. She was still driving and was highly functional. I will now try to add to this blog on a daily basis for two reasons - maintaining my sanity, and maybe giving some insight to others who are just beginning the same journey.
This idea survived for about two weeks. Tracy received an email from her sister-in-law saying that she did not think it was a good idea for Blanche to live with them as she would be too "isolated". Right - with her son, daughter-in-law and two granddaughters. So, we stepped up and put a 640-square-foot addition on our house. It is a complete in-law apartment and is really very nice. So in August 2006, Tracy went to Florida, packed up the contents of the house and put them on a moving truck, loaded her mom and Cleo, the cat into her mom's car and drove to Connecticut.
From that point forward, the journey has been much more difficult than either of us could have imagined. We were warned by some family and some friends that what we were planning was a bad idea. But we know even today, that it was the right thing to do. Blanche was not ready for an assisted living facility in 2006. She was still driving and was highly functional. I will now try to add to this blog on a daily basis for two reasons - maintaining my sanity, and maybe giving some insight to others who are just beginning the same journey.
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