Just As I Thought I Didn't Have Much To Write About....
The past ten days have been so uneventful - just the usual routine, all going well - that I reckoned there wasn't much point in writing about nothing!
Wendy always says, "No news is good news." Especially where Mum is concerned, I think we all prefer a simple, boring life, to one that is ridden with difficulties... but the past 24 hours have given me something to write about.
Mum got to bed last night at about 11.00 p.m., and settled down well enough. I'd had supper and worked at my creative stuff upstairs until the early hours, and when I realised how late it had got, knew it was about time I got to bed. One can take this "Owl" mentality a tad too far.
I looked in on Mum at about 2.00 a.m. and she was wide awake, and raring to get up and go. Go exactly where, I didn't know, but she certainly wanted to get up.
I was firm.
"Mum, it's very late. It's the middle of the night, and time to sleep, so go to sleep now."
"Why? What time is it?"
"It's 2 o'clock in the morning, Ma, and I am going to bed."
"Why? Haven't you been to bed yet?"
"No, I haven't. I've been working. But I am now going to bed."
"Oh."
"All the cats are asleep as well," I said, "so now we must sleep as well."
"Alright, then."
I made sure Mum had plenty of tissues, was warm and comfortable, and she seemed to accept it was very late (or very early, depending on which way you looked at it), and settled down.
Again, very firmly, I said, "Night, night!" and went off upstairs. It was 2.20 a.m.
At 8.45 a.m., the ladies arrived to get Mum up and washed, and they did not have an easy time of it.
Mum refused to let them wash her - it was the usual thing when Mum is stroppy:
"You're not trained properly!" "Ugly Mug!" "I'll report you to Head Office...!!"
Oh, dear.
Being very experienced with Mum's foibles, using guile and persuasion, they did wash Mum, by dint of asking her, "Can I just do this arm, please, Phyllis?"
"Yes, alright, then - just that arm."
Then: "Can I just do this other arm, please, Phyllis?"
And so, in this fashion, Mum was properly washed, and dressed in clean clothes.
She was hoisted into the chair and there she sat, looking very much like Giles' Grandma - decided grumpy, and very unco-operative.
As the ladies left, they wished us good luck; and this was when our problems for the morning began.
When Mum decides not to co-operate, clearly you can't make her do something she doesn't want to do - even if it has been part of her daily routine for the past six and a half years!
We always wash her hands first and, with a bit of encouragement, she did get her hands in a bowl of hot soapy water and had a good wash, followed by a clean bowl of water to rinse in; I got her hands dry, and thought, "So far, so good!"
Next, I brought her toothbrush and toothpaste - but Mum was adamant she was not going to brush her teeth. It really is important that she clean her teeth and mouth properly - during the night (and throughout the day), Mum produces a lot of phlegm, and needs to clear it.
Then Mum went on the tack of how did she know the brush was clean? Was it kept in the cupboard?
"It's very clean!" We reassured her. "It's your toothbrush!"
"Has it been scalded?"
Oh dear. If you have every tried to sterilise a toothbrush using boiling water, the usual result is that all the nylon bristles fall out. I use Milton to clean a new toothbrush.
So I lied: "Yes, it has been scalded."
It is so difficult when Mum is in this mood. She started landing out at us, and spitting. I told her to stop, and then we got Frank Richards' "Owl of the Remove" Billy Bunter script:
"Yarroooh! Gerroff!" along with more of the "Ugly Mug! I don't want you in here!" lines.
At this point, it made us wonder if Mum is in fact scared because she can't work out where she is - or if it is because the dementia is causing her brain to go into "attack" mode.
We managed to get her teeth and mouth half-way brushed and clean, and with the mood she was in, that was going to have to do.
I brought in her tea and cornflakes, and her pills.
I tried to be bright and positive: "Here you are, Ma! I've brought you a lovely cup of tea!"
"I don't want it!"
"Well, what about your lovely cornflakes, then? I've put full-cream milk on them?"
"I don't want them."
"But you've got to have your pills, Ma - they are the ones the Doctor prescribed for you..."
"I don't want them."
It was not going to wash.
I covered everything up and took it back to the kitchen. I hadn't had my breakfast, so took the easy option to get something to eat and have a cup of tea.
After an hour or so, I went back in, bearing the gifts of tea, cornflakes and pills.
I thought I would play it as though the earlier tantrums hadn't happened.
"Hi, Ma!" I said, "I've brought you a lovely cup of tea - and some lovely cornflakes!"
"I don't want anything."
My heart sank. "You've got to eat, Ma, otherwise you could end up in hospital."
"Maybe I'd prefer to be in hospital!"
"No, you wouldn't! You wouldn't get nice food like the things I make for you....."
That seemed to strike a chord.
"Will you have a few cornflakes, with your pills?" I asked.
"Alright, then - just a few."
And that was the start of better co-operation.
In the end, Mum had quite a lot of cereal - later on, she even fed herself! - took her pills and drank all her tea. I sat with her and we watched an interesting programme on the jungles of Africa, which caught her attention, followed by Bruce Forsythe hosting Play Your Cards Right. Mum remembers "Brucie" from the time when he toured South Africa and appeared at the Alhambra Theatre in Durban. He picked her out of the audience and talked to her, and to this day, she will tell people about it!
The ladies returned at 12.30, and asked me how I'd got on.
I said, "You weren't kidding, when you wished me luck!"
Mum was better with the idea of returning to bed for a snooze, although she still needed reminding that it was a good idea to have a rest - and that the cats had also had their breakfasts, and were fast asleep in the lounge.
I guess the hardest part of this morning was dealing with all the uncertainty: Will she/won't she eat/drink/take pills, etc. - I worry about her not having enough fluids and I know taking her medication is important. Whichever way you look at it, caring for someone like Mum is hard work, but it's easy and a happy task when she's chatty and helpful. It's the not knowing how things will develop that I have found difficult to cope with. If Mum misses one cup of tea, I suppose it is not a disaster, and we can make up for it with an extra cuppa later on; maybe the same applies to the dose of medicine. I will have to try to be more philosophical and accepting about it.
Monday 27 August 2018
Thursday 16 August 2018
A Physiotherapist Comes To Call
A Physiotherapist Comes To Call
In September last year, when it had been decided Mum wasn't reliably able to bear her weight anymore, it meant she would have to be hoisted in and out of bed, and in and out of the chair, so I was keen to make sure she would retain what decent muscle tone she still had.
We have always encouraged her to "....push hard down on the arms of the chair, and lift yourself up!" and get herself comfortably positioned on the seat.
She also knows that if she sits on the edge of the bed, and pushes hard down with her hands on the bed, she can lift herself up from there as well. It's the old jet engine law - downward thrust lifts up.
Over the years that Mum has lived with us, I have introduced a little routine of exercises that at various times, we all ask Mum to do. She will never exercise if it is presented as a PE session, but throughout the day, she actually does quite a lot, and it is always purpose-focussed.
Because she would not now be getting herself up and down and in and out of bed, I also wanted to make sure that the movements I'd worked out to help her, really were doing the job. I asked the Occupational Therapist if she could please arrange a home visit from a Physiotherapist; true to her word, she did.
After a very short waiting time, a young man rang up to make an appointment to come and see Mum. It turned out we had all met before - years ago, when her GP was concerned about the way she was walking, using the stool instead of a Zimmer frame, this young man had come to see Mum, and given her some good exercises to do on a regular basis. On that occasion, Mum had realised they were actually exercises, and most of the time she refused to do them; but it was really good to have this continuity with someone who remembered her.
I showed him what we had been encouraging Mum to do. She can still lift her legs up high - for example, when she is lying on the bed, she can lift both legs in the air together; she can sit herself up and, when she is sitting in the arm chair, and I have to put cream on her legs, I put a dining chair in front of her - in seconds, one leg is up on the seat!
After we have been having a good singing session, I also ask her to raise her arms up and clap her hands above her head; when we go to the bathroom, I make sure Mum is wheeled on the glider to the bath, and encouraged to reach right over and turn the bath taps on so that she can wash her hands properly. She might need help to turn the taps off, but it's all good stretching movement and thinking exercise and whilst she can still do these things, I don't want them to fall by the wayside.
The Physiotherapist was very impressed; he had brought along four pages with illustrations of exercises, and we were delighted to learn that Mum was already doing most of them. So, we carry on keeping Mum's muscles as strong as they can be; she is still unaware that the exercises are introduced into her routine, but they are working - and working well.
In September last year, when it had been decided Mum wasn't reliably able to bear her weight anymore, it meant she would have to be hoisted in and out of bed, and in and out of the chair, so I was keen to make sure she would retain what decent muscle tone she still had.
We have always encouraged her to "....push hard down on the arms of the chair, and lift yourself up!" and get herself comfortably positioned on the seat.
She also knows that if she sits on the edge of the bed, and pushes hard down with her hands on the bed, she can lift herself up from there as well. It's the old jet engine law - downward thrust lifts up.
Over the years that Mum has lived with us, I have introduced a little routine of exercises that at various times, we all ask Mum to do. She will never exercise if it is presented as a PE session, but throughout the day, she actually does quite a lot, and it is always purpose-focussed.
Because she would not now be getting herself up and down and in and out of bed, I also wanted to make sure that the movements I'd worked out to help her, really were doing the job. I asked the Occupational Therapist if she could please arrange a home visit from a Physiotherapist; true to her word, she did.
After a very short waiting time, a young man rang up to make an appointment to come and see Mum. It turned out we had all met before - years ago, when her GP was concerned about the way she was walking, using the stool instead of a Zimmer frame, this young man had come to see Mum, and given her some good exercises to do on a regular basis. On that occasion, Mum had realised they were actually exercises, and most of the time she refused to do them; but it was really good to have this continuity with someone who remembered her.
I showed him what we had been encouraging Mum to do. She can still lift her legs up high - for example, when she is lying on the bed, she can lift both legs in the air together; she can sit herself up and, when she is sitting in the arm chair, and I have to put cream on her legs, I put a dining chair in front of her - in seconds, one leg is up on the seat!
After we have been having a good singing session, I also ask her to raise her arms up and clap her hands above her head; when we go to the bathroom, I make sure Mum is wheeled on the glider to the bath, and encouraged to reach right over and turn the bath taps on so that she can wash her hands properly. She might need help to turn the taps off, but it's all good stretching movement and thinking exercise and whilst she can still do these things, I don't want them to fall by the wayside.
The Physiotherapist was very impressed; he had brought along four pages with illustrations of exercises, and we were delighted to learn that Mum was already doing most of them. So, we carry on keeping Mum's muscles as strong as they can be; she is still unaware that the exercises are introduced into her routine, but they are working - and working well.
Wednesday 15 August 2018
Mum Harks Back To The Past
Mum Harks Back To The Past
Once again, the hours and the days have whizzed; we've had the same ups and downs, with Mum sometimes sleepy, when it's really hard to get her to eat a drink, and other times when she has been bright-eyed and bushy tailed for 72 hours.....
It is so much easier when she has had a good sleep and is rested - she is able to concentrate; follow requests to do things; she's chatty, and it's a real pleasure to sit with her at mealtimes and have a talk about the cats, or watch t.v.
However, it can be very disconcerting when her mood changes, or when she goes into a different time zone in her head. We've all had folks we know, telling us the same thing over and over again, not remembering we've already heard the story so many times before, but it's even more difficult when Mum gets on to a subject that I know is painful for her, and certainly not a comfortable topic for me to deal with either.
A couple of evenings ago, she was going on and on about my father, and how, years after the divorce, he had asked her to re-marry him. I took it as though it was the first time I had ever heard this:
"Good heavens, Ma, I hope you didn't accept!"
"Oh, no," she said, "I told him, if you could treat me like that once, you could treat me like that again."
"That was a very wise decision," I said.
Then I tried to distract her with another subject, but Mum was having none of it, and a few minutes later, that conversation was repeated, until I lost track of the times we'd covered the same ground.
I really have no idea if my father ever tried to stage a "come back," but nothing would surprise me. If he was "between affairs," Wendy tells me that people with Narcissistic Personality Disorder will often try to return to the first partner they had, going back to their primary source of "narcissistic supply," in order to re-affirm their control of that person.
If it is true, thank goodness at that time Mum was savvy enough to say "No!"
Having done some research a few years ago into what my father did after he finally got divorced from Mum in 1964, I discovered he had remarried two years later - and two years after that, had got divorced again.
He came back to England when Wendy was about 11 years old, and we drove to see him at his brother's house. He certainly had a woman in tow then, whom I assumed was his second wife - I didn't know then, he had divorced a second time, in 1968.
So, who was she? Was she the woman he had married in 1966, and divorced in 1968? Had they remarried after Mum turned down his proposition they get together again? Or was she someone else altogether?
Like so much of my father's life, it remains a mystery!
Once again, the hours and the days have whizzed; we've had the same ups and downs, with Mum sometimes sleepy, when it's really hard to get her to eat a drink, and other times when she has been bright-eyed and bushy tailed for 72 hours.....
It is so much easier when she has had a good sleep and is rested - she is able to concentrate; follow requests to do things; she's chatty, and it's a real pleasure to sit with her at mealtimes and have a talk about the cats, or watch t.v.
However, it can be very disconcerting when her mood changes, or when she goes into a different time zone in her head. We've all had folks we know, telling us the same thing over and over again, not remembering we've already heard the story so many times before, but it's even more difficult when Mum gets on to a subject that I know is painful for her, and certainly not a comfortable topic for me to deal with either.
A couple of evenings ago, she was going on and on about my father, and how, years after the divorce, he had asked her to re-marry him. I took it as though it was the first time I had ever heard this:
"Good heavens, Ma, I hope you didn't accept!"
"Oh, no," she said, "I told him, if you could treat me like that once, you could treat me like that again."
"That was a very wise decision," I said.
Then I tried to distract her with another subject, but Mum was having none of it, and a few minutes later, that conversation was repeated, until I lost track of the times we'd covered the same ground.
I really have no idea if my father ever tried to stage a "come back," but nothing would surprise me. If he was "between affairs," Wendy tells me that people with Narcissistic Personality Disorder will often try to return to the first partner they had, going back to their primary source of "narcissistic supply," in order to re-affirm their control of that person.
If it is true, thank goodness at that time Mum was savvy enough to say "No!"
Having done some research a few years ago into what my father did after he finally got divorced from Mum in 1964, I discovered he had remarried two years later - and two years after that, had got divorced again.
He came back to England when Wendy was about 11 years old, and we drove to see him at his brother's house. He certainly had a woman in tow then, whom I assumed was his second wife - I didn't know then, he had divorced a second time, in 1968.
So, who was she? Was she the woman he had married in 1966, and divorced in 1968? Had they remarried after Mum turned down his proposition they get together again? Or was she someone else altogether?
Like so much of my father's life, it remains a mystery!
Saturday 4 August 2018
I Have Been Busy!
I Have Been Busy!
After have a moan a week or so ago, and feeling things getting a bit on top of me, the last few days have been very busy! I really should try and get out more.
I was just thinking about what has happened during July: it has taken some organising, and lots of help with Grandma/Great Grandma sitting (by Wendy and by Al) but I have actually done quite a lot this past month.
I've been to a couple of poetry gigs, which I really enjoy, and written new work to perform at them. It's really important to feel that all the things I do to look after Mum, doesn't mean that the creative side gets submerged in the process!
I've been to the theatre - to see The King and I at the London Palladium, with the Broadway cast of Kelli O'Hara and Ken Watanabe - and oh, my, just hearing all those songs made me feel like 22 again, when I was singing them myself on stage, or in cabaret. Great memories.
And finally, I was part of a family reunion, meeting a cousin and his wife who now live in New Zealand, and who had not been around for nearly 40 years. It was a terrific afternoon; we had a great time at The Royal Oak in Green Street Green, Orpington, and the staff could not have done more to make sure we had everything we wanted.
Anyone who knows me, knows I like only very plain food - and not too much of it, either. Sometimes, instead of a full meal, I'll have just soup and a pudding - that really is the ideal choice for me. On the day of the Royal Oak reunion, I asked the manager if by any chance there was plain and simple tomato soup on the menu? Not tomato and basil, not tomato and balsamic vinegar.... just tomato soup? The Manager smiled and said he was sure they could manage that! and presently I was served with the most delicious bowl of tomato soup, piping hot, with white bread and butter. It was only later that I discovered he had gone out to the supermarket to buy me just what I wanted; truly a case of someone going the extra mile.
I was so impressed, I had words of praise insistently going through my head; this is the sonnet I composed to thank them:
And Mum? Whilst I had been out gallivanting, she had been well looked after by Wendy and Al, eaten her dinner and supper, and been entertained by Wendy playing the piano.
After have a moan a week or so ago, and feeling things getting a bit on top of me, the last few days have been very busy! I really should try and get out more.
I was just thinking about what has happened during July: it has taken some organising, and lots of help with Grandma/Great Grandma sitting (by Wendy and by Al) but I have actually done quite a lot this past month.
I've been to a couple of poetry gigs, which I really enjoy, and written new work to perform at them. It's really important to feel that all the things I do to look after Mum, doesn't mean that the creative side gets submerged in the process!
I've been to the theatre - to see The King and I at the London Palladium, with the Broadway cast of Kelli O'Hara and Ken Watanabe - and oh, my, just hearing all those songs made me feel like 22 again, when I was singing them myself on stage, or in cabaret. Great memories.
And finally, I was part of a family reunion, meeting a cousin and his wife who now live in New Zealand, and who had not been around for nearly 40 years. It was a terrific afternoon; we had a great time at The Royal Oak in Green Street Green, Orpington, and the staff could not have done more to make sure we had everything we wanted.
Anyone who knows me, knows I like only very plain food - and not too much of it, either. Sometimes, instead of a full meal, I'll have just soup and a pudding - that really is the ideal choice for me. On the day of the Royal Oak reunion, I asked the manager if by any chance there was plain and simple tomato soup on the menu? Not tomato and basil, not tomato and balsamic vinegar.... just tomato soup? The Manager smiled and said he was sure they could manage that! and presently I was served with the most delicious bowl of tomato soup, piping hot, with white bread and butter. It was only later that I discovered he had gone out to the supermarket to buy me just what I wanted; truly a case of someone going the extra mile.
I was so impressed, I had words of praise insistently going through my head; this is the sonnet I composed to thank them:
And Mum? Whilst I had been out gallivanting, she had been well looked after by Wendy and Al, eaten her dinner and supper, and been entertained by Wendy playing the piano.
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