Support All Around

When I arrived yesterday morning, Maria was kneeling by Mom, who was sitting in a chair, and plucking a few hairs off her chin. Mom was all cleaned up from her bath, and the two were very quiet and peaceful. Let me just say here that I think Maria is very special. She has empathy and genuinely cares about the well fare of others, especially seniors with dementia and Alzheimer Disease. She goes above and beyond, and for that, I am inspired and grateful.

As Maria was finishing up, Dad came up and expressed his concern about Mom's lack of spunk, but Maria did not think we needed to worry. She did think, though, that we needed to bring up the rash on the front part of Mom's leg, just above the ankle, to the nurse again. Nurse M. had told us to apply Cortezone on it, which I have been doing once a day, but Maria seemed concerned that it was still not better.

After she left, Mom sat quietly for awhile, and Dad went to the post office. When he came back, he was excited to show us the giant box he received. It was the bed bar he ordered, and perfect timing, because Brian, the physical therapist who suggested we get it, was due to arrive at any moment. Dad and I took it out of the boxes, and when Brian showed up, the first thing we did with his help was strap it on the bed. Once it was on, Brian showed Mom how to use it. He then did a bunch of exercises with her. She really seems to respond well to him, and she seems to enjoy doing the little routines, counting out loud. It is really cute how she sometimes skips numbers ahead. Well, cute might be trivializing her condition, but sorry. It just is.

After the P.T. finished his exercises with Mom, he wrote up his report on his little computer, and told us that the next time he comes, he'll have a little routine and sketches to leave with us so that we can help Mom with strengthening exercises in the future. Then I left and drove down town to the little community center to attend the care-givers support group. Their were seven other women in attendance, in addition to the woman who runs the group, and almost everybody is a caregiver for somebody with Alzheimer's or dementia. The session involved a lot of sharing, a little bit of crying, and plenty of empathetic support.

I stopped at the store on the way home and picked up a few groceries for my household, as well as some cans of organic soups, bananas and a little potted spring plant for Mom and Dad, then went home to rest for a couple of hours. At five forty-five, I drove back next door and stayed with Mom so that Dad could attend his board meeting at the church. Mom was real mellow and sat in the chair while I did their dinner dishes and a few other little things, then I helped her get settled on the couch around six forty-five, and that was were she stayed until almost nine at night, when Dad got home. She slept for most of the time.

Just before Dad got home, I roused her from the couch and suggested we start getting ready for bed. I wanted to get as much done as possible before Dad got home, because I knew he was tired. However, he got home before we could begin the ritual, so I let him take over, for her sake. As I was putting on my boots, I could hear them in the bathroom, and Dad lamented, "How am I going to take this sweater off?" (It was a thick blue turtle neck sweater, but still fairly loose.) When I entered the bathroom to assist, Mom was so tired and defeated, she just started crying like a little baby. No tears, just whimpering. It was so sad. We told her it was okay, and somehow, Dad and I managed to pull the sweater off her head. I kissed her on the cheek and told her it was okay, and that I'd see them both in the morning. She stopped crying and said good night.

Dad just called, and we'll have a visit from the occupational therapist, Gwen, within the hour.