A Trip to the ER

As our LAN line and cell phones rang one after the other last night, we figured something big must be up. And it was. KS called Tracy at 7 p.m. to let her know that Blanche had tripped and fallen after dinner. She hit her head and her knee and as a precaution, KS called the ambulance and had them take her to Waterbury Hospital. The emergency room. On a Sunday night. In the pouring rain. Did I mention on a Sunday night? In the pouring rain?

So we sat with Blanche for about five hours. She was in great spirits. She kept saying how happy she was to see us and how nice it was that we could all be together. She had x-rays taken on her knee and a CAT Scan on her head. It was all good. There was nothing wrong with her. But yikes, it was a long wait. Toward the end, Blanche really wanted to leave, so she started to methodically fold the blankets and sheets that were covering her. It was quite interesting to see the level of concentration she exhibited as she folded first the top blanket, which she then placed at the end of the bed and then the second blanket was folded, and also placed on top of the first blanket.

By then she was down to just a sheet covering her. Tracy kept telling her to leave the sheet alone because all she had on under it was a johnny coat. So she would stop for literally one minute, then pick up the sheet, defiantly stare at Tracy and start to fold it again! It was fascinating to watch. Tracy finally just got up, and unfolded both blankets and placed them back over Blanche so she had to start all over again. At least that bought us time so she wouldn't be just lying there practically naked waiting for the doctor. And it was freezing in the room she was in.

We watched several sets of people come and go. As each one would leave, Blanche would make a comment loud enough for all to hear. She was very nosy. It was also interesting to see her out of her normal surroundings. While she was in good spirits, she literally could not complete a sentence, which was really frustrating to her. She kept telling Tracy she had something to tell her, but she couldn't remember what it was. Tracy told her where she was and why she was there, but she did not respond to that at all.

Interestingly, when we first got there, a nurse came up to Tracy and said that Blanche seemed very confused. Tracy explained that Blanche has Alzheimer's and the nurse said he knew that!? Okay, then, why was he surprised she seemed confused? We couldn't quite figure that one out.

When the doctor finally came, he asked Tracy if in her opinion, her mom was acting normal. Tracy said, "absolutely" and the doctor was satisfied between that answer and the CAT Scan results that she had not suffered a head injury.

So, we were curious as to what would have happened if KS had not been able to reach Tracy. Apparently, the ambulance would have taken Blanche back to KS, so that's good to know.

Hopefully, it won't happen again anytime soon.

Trying to Make Sense of It

I just got off the phone with my dad's geriatric doctor. I figured if I write down all my thoughts right now, chances are that I would remember more of the conversation. She said it is her feeling, and that of the consulting doctor, that my dad's lack of motivation is being caused by his dementia and not his depression. I can understand that, but it doesn't change my opinion about the need to increase his depression medication.

I told her that I understood her reasoning. However, given that my dad cannot take Aricept because of his past bleeding ulcer issues, and they won't give him Numenda because that's only prescribed in cases of severe dementia (that's correct - that's what she said), I think that a slight increase in his depression medicine might give him some added motivation and wouldn't it be worth a try?

Ruling out Aricept and Numenda rules out the popular Alzheimer's/dementia medication that I'm aware exist. In fact, Tracy's mom is on both of those and I don't consider her dementia to be severe. Maybe I just don't know enough yet about the illness or even the differences between Alzheimer's and dementia.

If I compare Blanche's behavior to my dad's, it's hard for me to see the similarities. Blanche has bouts of paranoia, she makes things up, and she forgets everything a minute after it happens. My dad has not exhibited any paranoia, but he does seem to forget everything a minute after it happens. He does make things up, but not in the same way Blanche does. She tells us of visits she's had recently with her husband, who has been dead for six years. My dad just seems to think he's doing things like he used to do. It's very confusing, but I guess if I re-examine what I just wrote, my dad and Blanche do exhibit similar behavior...

Well, as I was writing, the doctor called back. Hard to believe! She actually gave me a referral to an experimental study that is ongoing at Yale University's Department of Psychiatry. It's an Alzheimer's/dementia study. I think it might be the same study that Tracy and her grandmother participated in when her grandmother was about 95 years old in 2004 or 2005. If I remember correctly, they went to Yale periodically and participated in testing. There were some instances where Tracy's grandmother actually tested better than Tracy did! I better check with her on that to make sure I'm not making that up!

And she then said that if we choose not to participate in the study, or if we do participate and it doesn't seem to help, then they'll bump up the depression medication! After all that. She also said if they do bump it up and it doesn't seem to make a difference, they can always reduce it. That seems to make sense to me, but I still don't get what harm there is in bumping it up now. I think I want to believe the increased medication will help, when I'm hearing these doctors say it won't because my dad is like he is because of the dementia, not the depression. I think we still have to try.

So, we're going to see my dad's primary care doctor tomorrow. I'll do some research on this study at Yale before then and see if I think we can do it. Then I may just tell the doctor tomorrow to tell the geriatric doctor that we want to go ahead and increase the depression medication.

Long Overdue

This new post is long overdue. I'm not sure what happened to July. It just came and went so quickly. There were several visits to Blanche, the most recent being last Friday. She was very happy to see us and actually said my name. She hasn't said my name in a long time, so it was a nice surprise to know that at least on that day, she remembered who I was. She talked for awhile about how much she likes Kensington Green and how long it took her to decide that was where she wanted to live.

As for other things, her hair was dirty and the handicapped seat in her shower had two piles of nicely folded, dry clothes on it, leading us to believe that the shower had not been used in some time. We unpacked everything from her clothes hamper. Just can't get her to stop doing that. We found her underwear, tucked away in her nightstand and returned it to her dresser. My big find of the evening was the 24 bingo balls hidden away in her bathroom! What a find! I initially thought they were those oversized gum balls that I ate too many of when I was a kid. Glad I didn't try one because I'm sure it would have broken a tooth!

Cleo is good, although she probably needs to be checked out by the vet. She doesn't seem to be able to eat the dry food anymore, so we've been bringing moist food for her. We can't give her the cans because Blanche cannot monitor that and there would be smelly, open cans all over the room.

On another front, I took my Dad to the geriatric doctor on Wednesday and his dementia is worse than it was six months ago. He told the doctor that it was 2005. He also told her he goes out everyday, takes my mom shopping, and jumps in his truck and drives to the beach a couple of times a week! Interestingly, that is exactly what he was doing in 2005, but he doesn't do that anymore. He NEVER gets out of bed unless we make him. The doctors told me there is a great deal of overlapping with depression and dementia and it's hard to distinguish one from the other. I just know that I wanted them to increase his depression medicine to maybe give him a little motivation and I'm waiting to hear if they'll do it.

Living like this is taking such a toll on my Mom. Since she doesn't drive, she relies on my brother and I for everything. And she has to deal with my Dad and his depression and his dementia 24/7. She's handling it as best she can, but I know she is overwhelmed sometimes.

And to all of those health care professionals out there, please heed this word of advice from an average person. PLEASE do not tell elderly people that they should go to daycare! Why would a professional say that repeatedly to an 80-year-old ex-Marine? To him, daycare is a place where helpless little kids go when their parents have to go to work! I actually got the doctor alone and asked her to say "activity center" or "senior center". How hard is that?

I'm trying to stay positive because my mother needs that from me. But it's so hard. This is my Dad - my hero. He's the guy I followed around when I was a kid. It was me climbing the ladder right behind him to fix my grandparent's roof. It was me hauling the wheelbarrow full of stones into our backyard to extend the usable area of our yard. And now it's me taking him to the VA, getting him into a wheelchair and making sure I understand what is going on. It just sucks. And there's no nice assisted living facility waiting for him when the time comes and we can't take care of him at home. There's the VA hospital in Rocky Hill and I have no idea what that place is like. So that's where we are with all of that.

Keeping up with Medical News

There's an illness that is similar to Alzheimer's and I think it's important for those of us with aging parents to be aware of it. Check out this link for a disease that has many similar symptoms of both Alzheimer's and Parkinson's. The goods news is that it is very treatable once diagnosed. It's called Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus, or N.P.H. for short.

Read the entire article at the link below.

http://www.kauz.com/news/49629637.html

I also posted this to my Facebook page. I just wanted to make sure it gets as much exposure as possible.

Visitors are a Good Thing!

So in recent weeks, Blanche has had visits from several friends, her roommate from nursing school and a cousin. It's always nice to hear that because in part (and perhaps selfishly), it takes some of the pressure off Tracy given that we were the only two people seeing her regularly for quite some time.

I sometimes wish I could create some type of pamphlet that Tracy and I could give to people to prep them for a visit with her mom. It is so interesting to me that in some cases, not all, Blanche's visitors feel sorry for themselves because they feel as if they have lost a friend and that makes them sad. Well, yeah? Think how Tracy feels. It's her mom who has disappeared right before her eyes, yet still lives and breathes and exists in this world! People are funny like that I guess. The closest I can come in comparison is the person you may know (because we all know at least one), who doesn't go to wakes or funerals because it's too hard on them. Really? What about the people that are burying their loved one? Do you think it's hard on them? Do you think perhaps they need your support at such a difficult time?

Anyway, now it's my hope that the people who have gone to visit her will continue to do that as regularly as they can, at least through the summer.

The other thing that has surfaced because of these visits is that I think the assisted living facility should have regular communication with the family as to how their loved one is doing. Tracy never hears anything about her mom from the facility. They only have about 25 people living in the secured area of the facility. They should be able to generate a report that keeps Tracy apprised of the activities her mom participates in (or addresses the issues if she doesn't participate), the people who come and visit her, and just the overall state of her well being. Sending out something like that just once a month would be a great comfort to Tracy and I'm sure many other families as well.

Other issues we are dealing with relate to my parents. My dad suffers from depression and mild dementia. We were able to get him on an anti-depressant about six months ago. I called a couple of months ago to ask his doctor if we could bump up the dose because he was on a very low amount. They told me no because they were concerned he would suffer side affects and since he wasn't exhibiting any side affects, they left it as it was.

Now, despite all my Dad's promises he made in the fall to start doing more, he only gets out of bed when he absolutely has to. And even then, sometimes he'll take my mom to church or to the hairdresser and not even get out of his bathrobe! Even though he doesn't get out of the car, I am literally distraught that my Dad thinks that is okay behavior. If someone told me 10 years ago that my active, lively, strong father would literally have lost the desire to live I would have said they were crazy. But that is exactly what has happened to him. He is the last left of all his siblings and all his friends. He has absolutely no interest in anything and that is so hard on my mom. She doesn't drive, so she relies on my brother and I if my Dad isn't leaving the house.

I'm going to call my Dad's doctor again tomorrow and request an increase in his medication. Maybe they'll listen to me this time.

All is Well

Mother's Day lunch with Blanche was excellent! As we drove up Route 6 headed for the Charcoal Chef, we passed one or two horse farms. Blanche was chattering away and telling us how she drives up this way two or three times a week and pulls over to the side of the road to watch the horses. Excellent! I told her that's a great way to break up her day and she agreed wholeheartedly. She was also telling us how much she enjoys "working" at KS. If that's what it takes for her to be okay with living there, then so be it.

Once again, she was showered, her hair was nice, although it needs to be cut. Tracy is working on that. Apparently, she needs to ask KS to set up an appointment the next time they are offering that service.

Cleo is doing fine. She seems quite happy and not at all upset that she has to live in a memory care facility! Her life is pretty basic - she stays in Blanche's room and she eats, sleeps, pees and poops! Not bad. Tracy and I are responsible for her care. So once a week, we change the litter and make sure her feeder is full. Blanche is good about keeping water in the bowl. However, she still tends to try to give the cat little "treats" such as crackers, hand cream, etc. But we try to keep an eye on that. Since she can't have food in her room, it makes it easier to manage.

Last Sunday we took Blanche to the Heritage Village book sale. I went off and did my own thing, but Tracy told me later that her mom absolutely could not focus. She just kept reading all the book titles and never really seemed to find anything she was interested in. Yet, she used to be an avid reader. Tracy picked out a book for her and she had another one for her because we had been to the sale the day before. I highly doubt she is able to read a book anymore, but that's okay.

When we went back to Blanche's room, what a treasure trove of things we found! Apparently, Blanche has been collecting plastic hair clips. We don't know who they belong to, but there were at least a half dozen on her dresser. Isn't that weird? Also on her dresser was a checkbook belonging to someone else. Tracy immediately brought that to an aide and it turned out that it belonged to Blanche's friend, Celia. Why her family would allow her to have a checkbook in the memory care facility is beyond me, but the aide gave it right to Celia.

We're having a Memorial Day picnic on Monday and we've decided that Blanche cannot join us. We think it would be a challenge to keep her out of her old apartment and we don't want her to think she's coming home. So like on Easter when we brought her with us to my brother's house, we'll take her to picnics that are not at our house. I think Fourth of July is at my cousin's, so we'll bring her there with us.

That's about it for now...

The Compulsive Nose-Blower Strikes Again!

Are you kidding me?! She did it again! We took Blanche out to dinner tonight and even though the napkins were paper and not cloth, AND Tracy gave her a bunch of tissues when we got in the car, it did not matter. With one swift motion, she had squashed a bug on the restaurant window and blown her nose into her napkin! Yikes!

Blanche had been obsessing about a bug on the window at the restaurant. Tracy had told her several times to just leave it alone. Instead, Blanche started looking at a real estate magazine that I had picked up on the way into the restaurant. After pretending to look at it for a moment, she whacked the window and splattered the bug all over the window and the magazine. And then she laughed heartily as Tracy just shook her head.

So, all in all, Blanche was more animated and talkative than I had seen her in quite a while. That was a good thing. However, she seems to have picked up some odd habits. For example, after we had our salads, she took her knife and started scraping up dressing that had fallen onto her place mat. She would not stop doing that, no matter what Tracy said. Finally, she took the knife and licked it and that seemed to satisfy her and she stopped fussing with it.

When dinner came, Blanche did not eat much of it and like always, said she would bring the rest home. Since we can't let her do that, this is one of the only times when it is a blessing that her short-term memory is so bad. By the time we get back to KG, she has absolutely no memory that she had leftovers. One small (and isolated) advantage to the memory issues.

Until next time...

All Quiet on the Blanche Front

We took Blanche out for dinner last night. She seemed in good spirits, her hair was clean, although it did not look brushed. However, that could be because Tracy received a message earlier this week from Kensington Green that they couldn't find any of Blanche's hairbrushes or combs, so could we bring one the next time we came. So we did, and then we found four of them in her room! I've learned that people with Alzheimer's tend to put things "away". You would think that KG would know that and just look in #1 - her purse, and #2 - her laundry basket.

She uses the purse like a suitcase and keeps everything in there from toothpaste to notepads (usually three or more) to the remote control for her TV. The laundry basket holds everything else in the room that she can jam into it. It doesn't matter that Tracy attached a big label to it that says "Dirty Clothes". 

One of the things we really liked about KG was that they had memory boxes outside each room where you could place photos and mementos and other things that would remind the resident of family and home. However, we can't get Blanche to stop emptying that. Yesterday, she finally beat us! We did not even try to put back any of the pictures or little moose figurine that we had been putting in there during every visit. She wins because I doubt we will try again.

We're also getting better at leaving. One time she insisted on walking us to the door and since it's a locked facility, she can only go so far. Then she just stood with her nose pressed against the glass until we were out of her sight and that was slightly disconcerting to both of us. So now we walk her out to the common area and if there's an activity about to start, we make sure she is participating before we leave. Last night there was a tea party scheduled for 7 p.m., so that was when we made our exit.

One of these days we'll also learn that we have to bring tissues with us when we take her out to eat. She is the biggest nose blower I have ever met! Three times now while we have been out eating, she has blown her nose in the cloth napkins before we could stop her! Last night I just looked at Tracy and said, "no really, how stupid are we?" because once again we forgot to bring tissues to give her at dinner... one of these days.

That's it for this update.

Let's Review

It's been three weeks to the day since we moved Blanche into Kensington Green. And, for me, the sun seems brighter, the sky more blue and food tastes better! It's really amazing to take back our house and to have our privacy, and our lives back. This may sound harsh, but the past year it became very challenging to have to keep an eye on Blanche every single time she came over to our house.
Now we at least know she's safe, well-fed and taken care of every single day. Our biggest challenge so far has been to stop her from packing up her belongings every other day. They're also getting better at keeping an eye on this activity at Kensington Green.
Tracy is going to see her tomorrow. I can't go - yet another family funeral for me to attend. So I'll keep you posted.

Just Nine Days In...

...and Blanche is still packing up her stuff to go "home". We went to visit on Sunday. We got there at 10:30 and she was sleeping! Just laying on her bed, fully dressed and out like a light. The TV and lights were off and the blinds were closed. And to me, the room smelled. Tracy said it was the new paint, but I just didn't think so. Blanche had her bathroom door closed and when she does that, Cleo can't get into the bathroom. Sure enough, we found a sweater on the floor that the cat had peed on. What also bothered me about that was that there were at least six or seven people sitting out in the common area doing different things with two aides supervising them. As far as I'm concerned, Blanche should have been out there as well.

After we woke Blanche up, we realized that she had not showered in probably the entire week she had been there! Tracy went and told the nurse that her mother had packed everything up again. She had even taken the pictures off the walls! The nurse was surprised. She said everything was fine earlier that morning. I doubted that. It didn't take just an hour to do everything Blanche had done. Apparently she had also been telling everyone at breakfast that Sunday was her last day there and she would be going home. So I guess we can assume she is not adjusted yet.

Back to the shower issue. An aide came in and told Tracy that her mother had refused a shower every single day that week and that she has the right of refusal! Really?! The aide said that everyday Blanche would already be dressed and would tell whoever came in to "cue" her to shower that she was already dressed and was not going to take her clothes off. So I butted in and asked the aide if they can cue her at night to shower instead. She said they could probably change the schedule and do that. What schedule? She's not doing it in the morning, so there is no schedule! I was very angry. These people are supposed to be the professionals.

At that point, Tracy had her mother in the bathroom and was getting her in the shower. Blanche complained that the water was too cold and sure enough, Tracy said the waster wasn't really getting hot. I wouldn't take a lukewarm shower either. We reported that and the aide said maintenance would come in and look at it. Then the aide went into the bathroom, closed the door and made sure that Blanche showered and washed her hair. The woman was great - she even shaved under Blanche's arms. Needless to say, I stayed faaaaar away from the bathroom. There's a reason I'm not in health care!

After that whole drama, I asked the aide if whenever someone comes in to check on Blanche or take her somewhere, if they can please make sure the bathroom door is open so the cat can get to the litter. To me, it's common sense. They know she has a cat; they know the litter is in the bathroom; they know Blanche has Alzheimer's. Hello! We actually hung a curtain in the doorway and then propped the bathroom door open with Blanche's laundry basket. We'll see if that sticks. I just feel bad for Cleo. I'm pretty sure she didn't want to pee on the sweater that was on the floor, but if the bathroom door was closed, she had no choice. And I'm also sure if she keeps peeing on the floor, they'll make us take her back. The rule is that Blanche has to be able to take care of her.

I also noticed something that I did not mention to Tracy simply because she's dealing with enough. It seemed to me that Blanche was less chatty and more distant than she's ever been. It's almost as if she's being less engaged now than when she was living here. It could have been because we woke her out of a dead sleep. We actually had to walk right into the room and stand over her bed before she woke up. She did seem better the longer we were there. We decided to have lunch with her in their main dining room just to spend a little more time there.

Tracy took her laundry to do and we're going to bring it back tonight. We are going to Angela's house for dinner to celebrate Cierra's birthday and we're going to take Blanche with us. We had also decided that when we have picnics this summer, we were going to make sure that we go get Blanche, but now we're not so sure that's a good idea. If she comes back here, she may think she can stay and that will start this whole painful process all over. I think instead we'll just take her to picnics that my brother or my cousins have. That probably makes more sense.

Anyway, so that's been the first nine days and counting. While it's still a huge issue in our lives, the difference now is that when we walk out of Kensington Green, the problem physically stays there and doesn't come home and live with us. That is definitely making a difference in our quality of life here at home.

Moving Day!

So it's a done deal. It was a long, emotional day for everyone - Blanche, Tracy and me. Even our friend Wendy, who helped me with the movers and packing Blanche's stuff wanted to "get out of Dodge" before Tracy and Blanche arrived at Kensington Green. Tracy had decided to tell her mother mostly the truth - that Blanche's doctor had decided it was better for her to "stay" at Kensington Green because she kept saying she didn't feel safe and felt isolated in her apartment. We never actually said the word "live". We kept telling Blanche she was going to "stay" there.

It went well for awhile. Blanche was confused about where she was and why she was going to stay there. She was happy that Cleo, her cat, was there, already sleeping peacefully in the closet. The three of us had lunch in the main dining room. It was okay, but the portions aren't nearly as large as what Blanche is used to eating.

We are hoping the cat doesn't become an issue. Tracy and I ran home to get some things I had forgotten and when we returned Blanche had put hand cream in one side of the cat's food bowl and had placed a pile of Calcium pills on the cat's place mat! Yikes! We didn't see that coming! So we took the Calcium pills home with us and threw away the hand cream, hoping that would help. We also told Blanche that she needed to just feed the cat plain old cat food or we would have to take Cleo away. That's the first time she starting crying a little.

When Tracy asked her why she was crying, she said "I just want us all to be together". Okay, that made me a little weepy too, but I quickly reined that in. The only real glitch came when one of the nurses came up to us and asked us to contact Cleo's vet and have copies of her rabies and distemper papers sent to them ASAP. Okay, except that Cleo is 16 and she doesn't go to the vet's because she is an inside, only pet. That didn't matter, so we had to make an emergency appointment with our vet and have him give Cleo the shots.

When we were leaving to take Cleo to the vet, Blanche was playing bingo. That was nice to see. We kind of snuck out before she saw us. When we returned, they were just taking her to dinner and as soon as she saw us, she turned to leave the nurse and kind of said, never mind, I'm all set now. We convinced her to continue on to dinner and we would see her later. Then we left, both of us a little weepy and completely drained. Our day had started at 6 a.m. and it was about 5:30 - very long for this type of thing.

We're going to see her today, but just for a little while. We don't want to eat with her again because we want her to get used to eating in the memory care dining room, which is different from the main dining room.

Even though Blanche is gone, I'll try to keep writing this blog because I think there will be much more to share as Blanche gets used to "staying" at Kensington Green.

Bye for now...

The Final Caregiver "Incident"

I'm a little late with this post, so I'll try to catch everyone up. This past Monday, I was heading outside to chop ice (and yes, I'm really tired of that). As I was leaving the house, I smelled something burning coming from Blanche's apartment. I didn't worry about it because the "I Don't Caregiver" was there and it was her watch.

Later, as the caregiver was leaving and I was still outside, she told me Blanche had burned some bread in the microwave and that it had burned so badly it had melted the plastic rotator thing in the microwave. So I bluntly asked, "where were you when Blanche was doing that?" The caregiver replied, "well I thought she was going to the bathroom and I don't follow her everytime she goes to the bathroom!"

As politely as I could, I said, "well you do have to follow her to either make sure she is going to the bathroom, or to see what she's doing in the kitchen." I was livid because all I could think of was how long did it take to burn something like that in a small microwave? Five minutes? Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? No really! So the caregiver sat on her a** in the living room doing who knows what while Blanche ruined the microwave and smelled up her apartment (and our house) for the next three days. I was really angry and I had to keep reminding myself that it was almost over.

Considering that this particular caregiver has been spending time with Blanche for several months, it is beyond my comprehension that she could allow this to happen. Okay, deep breath...it doesn't matter anymore and I would be hard-pressed to recommend this caregiving service to anyone moving forward.

Now on the moving day...

Friday, February 6, 2009

Salvation day. Redemption day. Moving day. It is the day we have anticipated for so long. It is the day we remove from our home the devastatingly negative shackles of Alzheimer's. It is the day we move Blanche into assisted living. It is what brings me to my computer at 3:55 a.m. with an aching head and anxiety over how it will all play out. I know it's the right thing to do. There is no other way for this journey to come to its conclusion. But I worry that it's taking a toll on Tracy. She's anxious and stressed and guilt-ridden. It doesn't matter how many people tell her she should not feel guilty. It's how she feels. The only thing that will rid her of that feeling is when we get past that move-in date and Blanche adjusts to her new surroundings. Then the choices we have made for her will be validated.

I try to imagine how our house will be after February 6th and it's difficult to envision. We've lived with this stress for so long. It's like our own twisted version of "When Good People Go Bad". I haven't always been proud of the way I treated Blanche. My patience has worn so thin in the past year. I don't like the person I've become in dealing with Blanche. I don't like how I've let Alzheimer's invade every part of our home.

Okay, so what do I like about the situation? I like that we've given Blanche a safe, warm home for nearly three years. I like that I've learned amazing things about this illness that have allowed me to personally grow and expand my knowledge. I like that because of what I've learned, I have published two articles about Alzheimer's: "Practical Tips for the First-time Caregiver" and "Selecting a Memory Care Facility". I also know that I have more to write on the subject, so good has come out of this.

Finally, once we are over this hump and past this moving day, Blanche will adjust, she will be living in a life-engaging environment and her days of living in near-isolation in our house will be over. That's the next day I am waiting for.

Today's Ordeal Involves a Cup of Coffee and Pudding with Ice

Today, Blanche asked for a cup of coffee at 4:30. The coffee in the pot was cold, so I told her she could heat it up in a coffee mug. Here's the sequence of events as they unfolded: Blanche took the pot with the cold coffee, and placed it on the counter. As she started to open random cabinets, I told her the mugs were above the sink. She still continued to open random cabinets. She finally got to the one above the sink and took a mug. She poured the coffee from the pot into the mug. Then she poured the coffee from the mug back into the pot. I told her to put it back in the mug. So she did. I then told her to put the mug in the microwave and she asked where that was located. I pointed to it behind her. She put the mug in and I told her to press one. She did. Then she turned around, and took another mug out of the cabinet and asked me if that was where she should put her coffee when it was hot. And on and on and on it goes, everyday, day in and day out. It will all be over soon.

Quick update - Blanche went into the kitchen just now to fill up her water glass. After what seemed like an eternity, Tracy went to see what she was doing. She had taken a pudding out of the fridge and was trying to put it into a cup with ice and water in it! Now the argument gets heated. Not that we are tyrants, but she already had a pudding tonight that she had gone into our refrigerator to get without asking. I'm not proud to say it, but I'm very territorial when it comes to my kitchen. However, the challenge is following her into the kitchen every time she goes and pretending that I am doing something else. Tracy took the challenge this time and now Blanche has gone home with her glass of pudding and ice...

Feeling Sorry for Myself!

Here I am again - Friday night - 7:45 and I've been dealing with Blanche since 5. I'm not sure how much more I can take tonight. We made a big food mistake today and now I have nothing to feed her for dinner. This morning we gave her chicken wings and a fully cooked pork cutlet. I went over to her place to see what leftovers I could give her and gone - all gone! She even ate the large piece of leftover steak she had taken home with her last night. Tracy is bringing dinner home tonight but she has to work late, so I'm in a bind. I'm not much of a cook and with how picky Blanche is, it's not like I can give her soup or tuna fish.

So here we sit. I went over to her place with her because she wasn't sure how to get there. Then I checked on her food and all she had left was a partial sandwich, which she brought over to our house to eat. Then I noticed all of her trash sitting in various bags on her counter, so I gathered all of that up into one large trash bag. Last but not least, I had to wash out her little garbage pail under the sink because she throws trash into it without putting a plastic bag into it.

Hopefully, if you're reading this, you can understand now why I'm feeling sorry for myself. If not, that's okay too. Finally, tomorrow we're going to see that last place in Southbury and hopefully Tracy will make a decision before the end of this month.

One interesting story from today. Blanche was reading yesterday's New Haven Register and at one point, she jumped up and headed for the door to her apartment. I asked her where she was going (again) and she said "I just saw something important in the paper and I want to go tell my husband before I forget". When she came back, she said to me, "he wasn't home yet".

My response was a plain old "uh-huh" and that was the end of that.

"Something is all screwy...

...in here," and Blanche pointed to her head. These are the moments where I feel the worst for her. They are brief moments of clarity where she knows something is wrong, and she knows that it's with her, but she can't figure out what it is.

Tracy's grandmother died today. We spent a couple of hours with her yesterday in the nursing home and they had said that they didn't think she would make it through the weekend. They also said they would call us so we would have time to get there. But it didn't work out that way. They called around 8:30 this morning and said she had passed. So Tracy asked if we could go and see her and they said yes. So that's what we did this morning. It was really sad. Her grandmother had just made her 100th birthday on Wednesday. It's a funny world that we live in where euthanasia is against the law, but it's okay to deny a human being food and water, give them morphine to "keep them comfortable" and let them starve to death.

Anyway, Tracy has had to tell her mother about 10 times today that her grandmother has died. She keeps saying that she didn't know and it's been extremely difficult to deal with her today. I've learned that with Blanche and this illness, it's all about her. When Tracy first told her that her (Blanche's) mother-in-law had died, her response was "I was just going to ask you how she was doing." And that was it. No sorrow, no grief, no tears. It's a little weird. It kind of takes away Tracy's ability to grieve for her grandmother. And she needs to grieve because she was the closest person to her grandmother and it's a big loss for her, more than she'll admit.

So here we sit watching football, drinking wine and hoping Blanche goes to bed soon. She already said goodnight once and came back within five minutes looking for something, but she couldn't tell us what it was. I'm dealing with her now because Tracy has had enough for today and she needs a break.

I Have Two Daughters...

"No", I said, "you only have one daughter." Blanche looked me straight in the eye and said, "no, I have two," and she even held out two fingers as if I am an imbecile and I should know that. Then she said, "How about if I call my boyfriend so we can find out what's going on?" So, I guess it's my turn now. So I said, "why don't you just sit down, read the newspaper and watch the news with me?"

But that wasn't good enough. I've learned that nothing we say is ever good enough, but God help us, we keep trying! Blanche just went back to her house for the 25th time in an hour and I'm not sure how much longer I can be nice. It's pretty sad, don't you think? She can't help it. I should be able to at this point in the game. But she's been telling me stories for over two hours now and I'm about saturated in the patience category. Hold on, I just heard the door again; she's been gone for just about three minutes...and here she comes again.

Okay, she just told me that half of her animals are missing. So I went over to her house with her, explaining that she only has one cat, Cleo. I then showed her Cleo sleeping peacefully in a chair. Blanche insists there are "others"; I insist there are not. And here I am back again in my living room. She stayed over in her apartment, but she'll be back.

Signing off for now, but I'm sure I'll be back too...

Coming Down the Home Stretch?

So here I sit on the second day of 2009, a steaming cup of Tension Tamer tea by my side and I'm just waiting. For what you may ask? It's 4:06 p.m. and the caregiver just left Blanche. So I'm waiting for the banging to start on the door that connects our house to her apartment. I wish that I didn't waste time waiting for it, but I do. There's a note hanging on the door. It says: "Blanche: I am working today. Please do not disturb me. Come over at 5:00 p.m. and we'll have dinner".

That usually does not stop her, but maybe today will be different.

We went looking at assisted living places earlier this week. Visited two: Coachman's Square and Emeritus (formerly Brighton Gardens). Both are in Woodbridge. We really liked the first and really disliked the second. It was a very sad experience for me; I can only imagine how Tracy felt. I swear, if anything like Alzheimer's ever happens to me, I'll pull a Thelma and Louise long before I become what I now know as "lower functioning".

However, I do know that Blanche is at a stage where she needs to be somewhere else. And not just for our sake, but for hers as well. We can't possibly engage her on a daily basis like she needs to be engaged. A caregiver three hours a day barely makes a dent in keeping her active. She wanders more and more around our house. We've been told that she is looking for something that she will never be able to find. For the same reason that she endlessly unzips and zips her purse when she's in the car with us - ask her what she's looking for and she'll tell you that she'll know when she finds it.

Tracy's sister-in-law is also looking at places in Florida, which is a huge help. Since it's a massive industry down there, we figured that it would be less expensive. And less expensive means that Blanche's money will last much longer for the quality of care she should get. It really shouldn't matter how much money you have when it comes to caring for the elderly, but boy does it! Just from what I've seen, it seems to me that you don't want your loved one to end up in a nursing home, but not everyone has the money to afford the type of assisted living facilities that are geared toward memory care.

Memory care - I learned that it means the facility has a locked area where the residents can wander around without leaving the building or getting into harm's way. It makes them feel like they are still in charge of themselves and since they don't know they're in a locked facility, I think it's okay. Apparently some people think the residents are locked up like crazy people, but those are just small-minded people who really don't understand the illness.

Anyway, an update on Blanche. She is starting to say more and more things that don't make any sense and we cannot decipher. On New Year's Eve, she said goodnight, went over to her house, changed her clothes and came back over. She asked Tracy for the "strips" for her teeth, which she insisted were in our refrigerator. Not sure what she was getting at with that one.

Last night, after dinner, she said she had to get home because her little girl was all by herself. We asked her if she meant her cat, and she said no. So Tracy said if the little girl was over in the apartment right now, she wanted to come over and meet her. So off they went. When Tracy came back, she told me her mother said, "see, that's my little black girl over there" and she pointed to her cat, Cleo.

So, I do feel as if we are coming down the home stretch regarding our living situation with Blanche. I also think that if Tracy had been able to be more open with her brother and his family, they would have understood earlier how difficult it is to care for Blanche. I also understand that we all have our own way of dealing with life-altering situations (this is mine) and really, no one prepares you for caring for a parent who is slowly disappearing before your very eyes. That said, I'm happy that they are providing support now that they understand what has been going on.

We're going to see one more place in Southbury called Kensington Green, hopefully sometime next week. To be continued...and by the way, it's now 4:28 and Blanche has only banged on the door twice since 4:06...