Wednesday- Back to the ER

Dear Mom,

I know I seemed angry today.  I was frustrated. I know you want to be respected and treated like an adult. But Alzheimer’s has taken over a big part of your life, and I can’t ignore that fact.

You don’t realize it, but we’ve put an “alarm” on the front door “just-in-case” you would try leaving at night or try to go outside for a walk by yourself. Today- when we needed to hear that alarm go off- it didn’t.

I’ve asked you and told you not to go outside by yourself and you have sworn that you wouldn’t even think of doing it. But you did.

Cher had just come in with Colt on the east side of the house when I heard Dad yell that you had fallen. You were on the front step outside of the house.

You were trying to get up, but I made you stay down to make sure nothing was broken. You kept saying, “I just wanted to see what the weather was like.”

It took me and Tom both to get you up. After this,  I know I can’t possibly do it by myself. You do have bad knees and I know that is a problem with getting you up.

You got mad when I told you from now on you have to use the walker. You don’t think you need to use it. Its not your fault you have fallen. It’s the house. (?) You don’t realize how unsteady you are on your feet. You don’t realize how you sway back and forth when you walk. You blame it on the house, on your knees, on your slippers, on your shoes, on your feet when they hurt…but it doesn’t matter the cause, it doesn’t matter who or what is to blame- the fact is you are not steady on your feet. And you need to use the walker.

And you CAN’T go outside the house by yourself. You can’t go down the step in the garage, or out the front door by yourself. You run the risk off falling.

You’ve been fortunate. This time. And the last time. And the time before that. One day, you might not be so fortunate. You’ll hit your head and it will be serious. You’ll fall and break a hip, or an arm, or a wrist.

Cher drove us to the ER. You didn’t want to go. You wanted to go to day care. Your “butt” hurt and your ring finger was so swollen and bruised I had no idea how your rings would come off without being cut off. I knew you wouldn’t like that.

You moaned on and off on our way to the ER. It’s hard to know how much you really hurt. I don’t think you feel pain like you should. You put extremely hot things in your mouth. You touch hot things and then your reaction to them being hot is delayed. Its hard to know.

We made you use your walker at the ER. You were mad. The doctor told you your rings had to come off. You didn’t understand. You kept saying that when the swelling came down you could get them off. He kept telling you the swelling won’t go down with the rings on and you could lose your finger. The nurse in you didn’t show up. You didn’t understand.

Threatened with the possibility of your rings being cut off, you asked for water and soap and you got them off yourself. I don’t know how. It had to have hurt like hell. But you didn’t make a noise. That worries me- it makes me more certain you aren’t feeling pain…

They x-rayed your hand and put a splint on your finger. You didn’t understand why. You said your butt hurts worse than your finger… well- you are going to be really bruised there as well. And they can’t do anything about it.

On the way home, you wanted to go to daycare. I said no, you need to come home so we can keep an eye on you. You wanted to go out to eat. I said no. You started complaining about how mean I am.

Sometimes I find it humorous that my mother calls me mean like my kids used to. But not today. No- nothing seems very funny today.

In less than two weeks time, I’ve spent two mornings in the ER with you. That’s a full day I should have spent working. That may sound cold. But it’s the truth. I’m fortunate I can take off like that. But there will come a day when I can’t.

I hate this Mom. I really do. I miss you. I have a hard time listening to you complain constantly. Its hard for me not to react when you tell me I don’t cook right, when you tell me I ‘m not dressed right. When you tell me my religion is wrong, that I read the wrong Bible. How is it that you can say you are proud of my being a minister and then tell me only the Catholic Church is right? Oh. It’s the Alzheimer's…

But its hard when the words are coming out of the mouth of my mother.

I’m doing the best I can. I know it upsets you when I don’t react to something you say- but really- I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. If I do react you get upset. When I walk away- you tell me I should stop and stay and talk to you about whatever your complaint is at the time. But Mom- your reasoning button is broken. I can’t reason with you and I can’t make you happy when we talk.

You seem happiest when I give you a hug. And most of the time I give them to you. Sometimes- when I give you a hug, I just pretend you are someone else. Because you are.

Another very long day…

The day started out beautifully. Warm 54 degree February weather. The sun shining and the ice melting. I was putting my laundry together to wash and looking forward to a calm and productive day. I could hear my mom walking into our living room and then I heard her voice and knew something was wrong.

She had lost control of her bowels while in her living room and she had tried to clean it up with the clothes she was wearing at the time.(Her night clothes)

This is the second time this has happened. The last time she had taken extra stool softeners because she was constipated. This time she says she hadn’t taken anything. It just happened.

She was calm, but obviously upset. All I could say was it would be okay and I would get it cleaned up. I told her she needed to get a shower. She thought she had cleaned herself up enough, but I insisted she take a shower. She said she couldn’t because her dirty clothes were in the tub. So I got some gloves and a plastic bag and got her clothes and put them to soak in the washer.

Dad woke up (in this case he is lucky he can’t smell much anymore) and I told him what happened. Mom got out some clean clothes and went in to take her shower. Mom told me she wanted to get some “diapers” so she wouldn’t have to worry about having this happen again.

My husband got down the SpotBot  and I got to work. Mom had her bedroom door closed. I peaked in to see if I could see any spots on the floor there. She had her bathroom door open and the shower running so I closed the door and planned on checking later.

Some time passed and all of a sudden I heard Dad yelling that Mom had fallen. I went into the bathroom and she was sitting on the floor in her bra and panties. She said she had fallen off of the toilet and hit her head and arm.

My DH had to come I and help me get her up and we got her walker. I called her doctor and they wanted her to go to the ER since she hit her head.

Dad wanted me to call an ambulance in case something was going on that we weren’t aware of. He was afraid if I tried to driver her she might get worse. So, we made the trip in the ambulance.

The ER was VERY busy and Mom was put in a bed in the hallway. I’m pretty sure in the ambulance the EMT did the basic tests for stroke and took her vitals etc. In the hallway, they took her BP (206/89) temp and put the Pulse Oximeter on. Her readings were in the high 60’s- right around 68. At one point it got up to 80, but quickly went down. Her Oxygen levels were above 95.

Of course we had to wait a long time, because of how busy they were. That’s when Mom told me I need to make an appointment for her with Pam to get her hair done! What??? She decided that her hair didn’t look good. Of course she hadn’t even had a chance to comb it that day. I’m not calling Pam!

The D.O. talked to Mom and tested her reflexes and looked at her arm.  Neither her nurse nor the D.O. seemed to understand what a cochlear implant was or that there was actually a magnet under Mom’s skin on her skull. Mom had said she hit that when she fell. The D.O. told Mom to put ice on her arm. Mom needed to use the bathroom and when she got up she was dizzy, so the D.O. wrote a prescription for Antivert. I was told it is a prescription med for vertigo or dizziness.

And then she was let go.

We got home about 2 pm and had lunch. Mom was really out of it by then. We insisted she use her walker and she got mad at Dad and I stepped in and told her Dad loves her and that is why he wants her to use it. She said she really didn’t think he loved her. When I said he did she calmly said, “Oh shut up.” I let it go and she used the walker.

I went to Pamida to get her prescription filled and to buy some Depends. The “prescription” turned out to be an over the counter med available OTC for the last 25 years (I was told) evidently its active ingredient is Meclizine- the same ingredient in Dramamine. I went ahead and got it.

I gave her a dose when I got home although she didn’t really want it. I’ll call Dr. P and see what she thinks about Mom taking it… And she said she can’t wear the Depends as they contain plastic and she is “allergic” to plastic. News to me. She said she would wear them if she needed them- and of course the AD keeps her from understanding there is no way to tell when she is going to need them.

She was quiet throughout dinner that night and when I got home from a meeting that evening Dad came to me and asked me to give Mom one of his pain pills. (Hydrocodone) I told him no. I’m not going to let them share pain meds! This was common practice when they lived by themselves, but I am DEFINITELY not comfortable with this.It’s illegal for one thing for me to give Mom Dad’s prescription pain meds and I have no idea how it would interact with all of the other meds Mom takes. Mom was not happy with me (again!) but some things I will not budge on.