Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Collusion and Lies

Mom discovered her closet again yesterday. She suggested we could give some of those pretty clothes away. Thinking of that task led me to wonder what she'd like to be buried in - wouldn't want to give that away. I tried to gently ask her that.

I asked if she'd like to be buried in one of her pretty red suits. Harumph! Quickly learned she thought pretty badly of that. Seems she'd been to a funeral years ago in which the lady was dressed in red, and another attendee made fun of the poor dead person being buried in red. <channeling Jar Jar Binks>  "How rude." Therefore, no red for Mom. She did not, however, come up with something she liked. Sigh.

Dad asked me three times yesterdy what the day and date were. Two times were five minutes apart.

He got mad at me because I wouldn't take him to the Post Office so he could mail this important letter yesterday. I asked him what was so important, and it ended up he was trying to donate money to "Feed the Children." When I said I couldn't do that, he huffed and stomped off. He never gives me time to explain anything. I looked up FC on a charity watch website and showed him the report. That took him right aback. He then thanked me for showing him that.

Last night Mom was looking at photographs. There are some of her wedding. She was so pretty, and Dad was so handsome. Some others are of prior Christmases. She showed them to me. Five minutes later she offered them to me again. When I said I'd just seen them, she asked me if I knew what they meant.

On the front of little things, at least we have a new fuse so the electricity is working in the kitchen. The lawn mower is back in the garage. Uncle came over this morning to take the golf cart to Paducah and also put the charger on the truck.  Sigh. I'm trying to find the number for the plumber. So far it's still hiding somewhere. It's not in the phone book nor in the stack of papers I've gone through so far. There is not one plumber listed in the local area phone book, which covers a diameter of roughly 25 miles.

This morning Mom got lost while getting up. You have to tell her to get up, then to sit up, then to stand up and shake her pajama legs down. Then you have to tell her to take her dentures out so you can clean and apply Fixodent. Then you have to tell her you'll be back with a meal.  If you miss any of those steps, she simply tries to lie back down. If you ask what she's doing, she'll say, "I don't know.  I don't know what to do next."

Dad got a hair cut today. I had to go into collusion with the gal at the shop. She kindly agreed to tell Dad the haircut only cost $10, and I paid her the rest of the money behind his back. He threw a conniption fit when I asked him about getting it cut. In his opinion, $17 for a wash, haircut and dry is highway robbery. Thus collusion and lies. The first thing out of his mouth when he walked in the door of the shop was, "Now you know I'm not paying you any $17 for a haircut." Such social skills. That's where my own genetic deficiency in that skill comes from.

While Dad got his hair cut, I went back home and took a shower. After I picked him up and we got back home, he wanted me to help him. Helping him meant going right that minute to the gas station and getting gas for the mower and golf cart. When I said I just took a shower and really didn't want to smell like gasoline the rest of the day, he got pissed and stomped off.

At supper time, about 5:00 p.m., Mom had a shaking spell.  She got up to go the restroom and came back shaking.  It was time for her medicine anyway, so I brought it to her with her supper. It was a bad spell with the medicine taking a bit of time to work. The shaking upsets her, and that makes the shaking worse. Traditionally, Mom's Parkinson's Disease has not involved so much tremor in her head.  Lately however that's ending.  Twice today, her head has bobbled like a dashboard dog.

About 6:30 p.m. Dad got pissed and stomped off because I didn't want him to have any more ice cream bars. He'd already had 2 today (dairy causes smelly accidents). I got an ocular migraine at 6:31.

Mom got new false teeth in early summer. They were the first new ones since her original ones, which were over 20 years old. She must have either lost a lot of weight (I don't see it) or lost a lot of bone since early summer because I'm having to clean and put dental glue on her dentures about every other hour now. Sometimes she doesn't even make it through a meal.

Friday is two days away.  I go home to Memphis on Friday.  Friday is two days away. Friday is two days away.


Oma said...

Hang in there. Tomorrow is Friday. I had to put a screw in the thermostat with Daddy because when he was cold, he would push it as high as it would go for heat. He lived in a mobile home in Florida and I was afraid he would fry himself. Couldn't reason with him, so by putting the screw in at the right point, he could push it "all the way up" and still the house would stay comfortable.
You are being clever with the haircut. Good job!

madhyatmika said...

It's so hard to keep them safe and solvent while trying to maintain some dignity. I can't imagine myself with my mother. My best friend just went through a couple of years of it and it was just grueling for her.

You're finding creative solutions to a horrible situation. HUGS

madhyatmika said...

That's a link to my bbf's blog, and an article that made so much sense to me. When I was the head nurse on an Alzheimer's unit, we would give stacks of face cloths and towels to the women to fold. These were women who worked hard all their lives, in the home and outside, and now they wander without purpose. Just giving them a task to do helped calm them, give them dignity. Maybe something of that technique can be used with your father; he needs to feel useful, purposeful. Anyway, it might help you to read her blog; that's why she started it.

Ooh, my word verification is "carmin", like carmine, like the red dye made from cochineal!

Jola Gayle said...

Thanks. I'll check that out. And I do give the towels to Mom to fold. It just seemed the right thing to do. So far, Dad can still do minor yard work, and that helps him.