Company III

It had to be almost midnight on Monday after my evening out with friends when I heard Miss Cathy come into the living room where I was just about to watch some TV. I thought she was in bed sleeping after we “discussed” the food that she’d prepared earlier in the evening for Mark and Brian (actually she talked obsessively about it and I tried to talk her “in” off the ledge).

Before she was even in the room I could hear her ask, “Do you think we have containers that we can give them for the food?”

“It’s okay mom”, I said as soothingly as I could, trying to keep any annoyance out of my voice,” you don’t have to worry about it now, we’ll get it all sorted out in the morning.”

Standing in the hallway leading to the living room wearing nothing but her nightgown she asked, “What time are they coming in the morning?” I was annoyed and filled with compassion at the same time because I knew this was a “real” concern for her but I couldn’t NOT acknowledge how trivial it all was-to myself anyway.

”Who cares what time they’re coming over for Christ sake!” I wanted to scream,” It’s just food and it’s not even food they fucking asked for so go to bed and stop bothering me with this shit!” I thought all of this to myself but would never say any of it out loud and felt instantly guilty for thinking it.

“I don’t know mom, they didn’t say but we’ll work it all out.” I tried to be kind and not patronizing but I can’t be sure how it came out. I could see that she was “all wound up” and she’d probably be up all night thinking about it and I felt helpless to do anything other than try to reassure her and insist that she got to bed to get some sleep.

I don’t know…….I do know that a part of this (the obsessive ness, the constant worry over what would seem to most to be trivial matters) is because of her condition but it’s also part of who she is, too. She’s always been a nervous, anxious person. Maybe the Alzheimer’s is just “heightening” those traits in her.

First thing in the morning I made a point to let Miss Cathy know that I’d contacted Brian and I gave her an idea of what time they would be stopping by to visit. I also told her what containers I’d be using (not the Tupperware though-heaven help me if I gave away some of Miss Cathy’s “good” Tupperware). I could see that she was in good spirits and eager to see my friends again. She then told me that Adele was stopping by as well so we were going to have a house full.

Later that morning Miss Cathy was outside talking to Adele when Mark and Brian pulled up so they had a “reunion” of sorts out in front of the building. I took advantage of a moment alone with Brian after he and Mark came inside to ask him what he thought about mom’s behavior.

Brian is not only one of my best friends; he’s a Psychologist, too. I try to not ask him for clinical advice but sometimes the lines blur because I’m asking my friend, who is smart and insightful for his observations AND he just happens to be talking about things that are in his field of expertise.

I told him my concerns about her “obsessing” over things like time, tasks and dates. He said something interesting to me, he said, quite simply, ”She’s losing the concept of time.” “ Which means that she’s not able to mentally calibrate what “happens” next.”

He used the example of what was going on, he said that in her mind she’s baking the chicken, then she’s focused on the fact that (they) are coming to get the chicken, so she has to get the chicken ready for them but she can’t organize herself or her thoughts around the issue.

“Time,” Brian said, “is intrinsically linked to memory.”