Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Calculating Cutlery: Pt. ll



I first noticed a correlation between Miss Cathy’s mood and the cutlery drawer around the same time that her vision started playing tricks on her way back in the early spring.

It seems her brain, diminishing by dementia, was telling her healthy eyes that they were weak, causing her to not recognize familiar objects like a knife or a fork and she couldn’t see clearly enough to read anything smaller than billboard sized type.

Her cognitive skills were affected too, making it next to impossible for her to learn new ways to compensate for her loss of vision and to adapt to her ever-changing circumstances and she seemed to complicate even the simplest of tasks.

Spring turned into summer and after many fits and starts, including the (sudden and unexplained) return of (some of) her vision, there was some improvement but putting the dishes and the silverware away could still be quite the challenge.

Her difficulties weren’t confined to the kitchen either; while sitting in the living room it wasn’t uncommon for her to turn the TV off by mistake or to switch the remote from cable to video mode (which completely throws her for a loop) and she’s not able to switch it back.

She would come get me most of the time when this happened, other times I might walk past the living room (and ‘not’ hearing) the familiar sounds of a courtroom, game, or talk show I’d just pick up the remote and correct the problem, and (sadly) there were those times when she’s just sit there, staring at a blank TV screen.

It’s heartbreaking to see her in those moments when she seems resigned to her fate, as if the disease is some sort of punishment for a past transgressed.

I’ll look at her, wondering what she’s thinking when she’s sitting in silence and wondering if I should step in and say something to break the spell.

Instead of just doing everything for her (automatically) whenever something goes awry, I’ve learned to take a moment, assess the situation and (if it’s pretty obvious that she’s not lit her hair on fire) I’ll help when I can and encourage her to do for herself whenever possible-if possible.

So, sometimes ‘I ask’, other times ‘I do’ and there are some occasions when I just ‘let her be’.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Calculating Cutlery: Pt. l


As any good caregiver will tell you, you quickly develop a second sense of your loved one’s state of mind after witnessing Alzheimer’s day in and day out.

You don’t have to be clairvoyant-just observant.

For example, I’ve learned that I can tell what sort of day I’m in for simply by looking into the cutlery drawer.

If, when I awake and go into the kitchen to make my coffee and look and see that the knives and forks are still in their respective slots in the tray (that I’ve returned them to the night before when I put away the dishes) then it’s probably going to be an easy day, a day where Miss Cathy is more or less self sufficient and not much is asked of me.

But, if I see that there is chaos and anarchy in the drawer; spoons and forks co-habitating and butter and steak knives fighting to occupy the same space then that’s a pretty good indicator that it’s going to be a long, long day.

At first I thought she was just ‘in a rush’ or ‘not paying attention’ and when I asked her about the mismatched cutlery she said she was “just being lazy” and would do better.

She was true to her word for a time but then she’d go back to making a mess.

This back and forth, with me playing “fork police” and Miss Cathy the “perp” went on for quite awhile. To the average person this may seem like ‘no big deal’ but caregivers get what I’m going on about.

It’s not the ‘mess’ (and no, I’m not comparing myself to Joan Crawford, as she was presented to the world by her victim-I mean ‘daughter’, Christina Crawford in the early 80’s biography and later cult classic “Mommie Dearest”, who happened to clean compulsively (usually three sheets to the wind) and clarify to her daughter after she’d dragged her out of bed in the middle of the night to help her clean that she wasn’t mad at ‘her’ (Christina) but that she was mad at the ‘dirt’).

No, this wasn’t about the mess, it was about trying to get a loved one with Alzheimer’s to try to ‘remember’ what they’d committed to doing and following through on a daily basis.

So, I try to use every little action or activity as a potential ‘teaching moment’ to help Miss Cathy learn to strengthen her memory muscle and challenge herself not to become mentally complacent.



Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Happy Birthday: Pt. ll


I decided on a ‘Sweet tooth’ theme for mom’s birthday.

I ordered rum balls from “Sweet Mama’s”, a tasty Tulsa, Oklahoma bakery that shipped in time for the big day. I placed them on a hand-blown glass cloche that was part of her ‘sweet tooth’ themed gift, it’s not only pretty, it’s perfect for the occasional apple pies and “sock it to me” pudding cakes that Miss Cathy likes (and I try to buy in moderation because of her diabetes).

I put a bow on the glass ball top of the cloche, walked Miss Cathy into the kitchen with her eyes closed and when she opened them-voila, a sweet birthday surprise!

A lady should never tell her age but I’m no lady so I’ll just put it out there that mom is seventy-five years old.

Seventy-five isn’t that old really, not these days, especially if you factor in that ‘sixty’ is the new ‘fifty’ (at least according to pop culture), people are working long past seventy (by choice or economic necessity) and doing all sorts of amazing things mentally and physically so by all accounts mom should still be a ‘vital’ person, and she would be, probably, if Alzheimer’s hadn’t stepped in to rob her of her ‘essence’.

Miss Cathy’s’ self-assurance has been replaced by a halting, questioning fragility and a begrudging reliance on me to help her with things that used to be second nature for her.

Life is becoming harder for her to navigate day to day and it’s becoming increasingly difficult for her to trust herself to either ‘remember’ or ‘to do’ the things she wants as Alzheimer’s continues to take a toll on her confidence and independence.

She still struggles to make peace with her diagnosis but as her condition becomes less subtle and more overt even she can’t deny that something is wrong.

With the help of her new neurologist she seems more accepting and she just might be ready to take some steps away from denial toward participating in her own care and maintenance, maybe….hopefully.

That is my birthday wish for her anyway.

She was touched by the gift and the gesture. She gave me a kiss and a hug then I was off to catch a train for New York where I’ve been teaching a summer program at LIM College this month and part of next.

I’m gone for most of the week and back at the weekend, my brother staying with mom while I’m away.

I can’t believe that another year has passed so quickly. The first week of August marks my third year as a caregiver.

So much has changed and there is still so much ahead that is unknown.

But, celebrating the day of her birth (however briefly) I could see that she was happy and present for the gifts she received and that’s enough, more than enough….. for today anyway.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Happy Birthday: Pt. l


It’s Miss Cathy’s birthday tomorrow.

What do you get for the woman who’s likely to forget what you’ve given her?

To be fair, I bought mom a gold watch to replace one that had been stolen years ago and rather than save it till now I gave it to her back in the Spring (I figured at her age why wait to make her happy).

She cherishes it and takes every opportunity to let people know that it was a gift from me.

But I also think its fun to have something to give on your loved one’s actual ‘Birth’ day, even if it’s just a little trifle, its a reminder that they’re loved and special.

I wish there was a way to give back her mind (the way it was five or ten years ago) when she was sharp as a razor and still on top of her game.

Oh, she still has the ability to cut you down to size (I’ve been verbally decapitated a few times myself in the past three years….that’s all blood under the bridge for now) but the Alz has tempered her temperament.

Those of us who are lucky enough to be healthy and whole take simple things (such as remembering the date that we were born and our age) for granted. So I’m reminded everyday of my blessings being healthy in body and mind.

Sometimes though I have a moment when I’m stopped cold by the thought that maybe the researchers are wrong.

What if Alzheimer’s is genetic? Am I’m witnessing my own future? Will there soon be a day when I’m searching the air to try to remember the year I was born, much the way Miss Cathy has been lately?

I’ve never professed to have a great memory so it’s been of little concern to me through the years that is until I became a caregiver.

Now I bear witness to the slow determination of a loved one’s mind and memory on a daily basis.

So it’s only natural (I think) to wonder, “is my mental state early signs of dementia or just the by-products of the stress that is so much a part of my life nowadays?”



Friday, July 12, 2013

Water off a Duck's Back: Pt. lll



I was tired of debating the merits of therapy with Miss Cathy week in and week out.

After so much Sturm und Drang I realized it was her life and she could not examine it if she didn’t want to.

Some days she’d tell me that the sessions were no more than gossip, other times that the therapist was very smart and she’d learned a lot but inevitably she’d ask me, “How long do I have to keep going before I can stop?”

How she could even contemplate stopping when she’d only just started baffled and frustrated me, but, her questioning the process was insightful and it told me she wasn’t actively participating (meaning she probably wasn’t dealing with any of her core life issues) in her sessions (not in any meaningful way it seemed).

It was amazing to me how she could even try to quantify seventy-five years of neurosis and think that she should be ‘cured’ in less time than it takes to get a reservation at a four star Michelin rated restaurant in Manhattan….but, hey, I’m just saying (to you anyway).

To Miss Cathy I said, “You can cancel if you want but you’ll still have to pay for the session”.

“It’s up to you, what do you want to do?” I asked, reminding her that her appointment was in less than two hours,

“I’ll got then”, she said grudgingly, “but I’m not going back.”

Instead of listing all the reasons why she should continue with therapy I simply said, “Fine by me, do what you want, you always do.”

So, I took mom to her session and wrote in my journal as I waited for her.

Afterward her therapist brought me into the room to announce that she and Miss Cathy had come to an agreement.

Miss Cathy would commit to going to the Senior Center and become more engaged in her life and if she did this with some regularity then she wouldn’t have to come to therapy as often.

I was skeptical but gave my right to an opinion when I announced earlier that I didn’t care anymore. I was alittle surprised and put off (read: pissed off) that I was asked to agree to “sitting down for at least one meal a week with Miss Cathy”.

How the hell did I get roped into this? Whatever….. I shrugged but agreed.

Time will tell if she holds up her end of the bargain or if she simply reverts back to her old habits and all her promises evaporate like water off a duck’s back.