Here's a quick update on Lola. She's recovered quite a lot from her spell of a week ago; although, she continues to be quite weak both in mind and body. Her balance was affected perhaps, but I can't tell what's a balance problem from what's just being 91, frail, and weak.
She's quite content to simply lay in her chair in the mornings without asking for breakfast or to sit up to watch TV. I have to remind her of these things and do them for her.
She never asks to be changed into fresh clothes. That makes you want to put it off because it stinks and it's messy. However, you can't do that because the ammonia in the urine damages skin. She's had a few sores, which I've managed to keep small and have heal up. In cases like this, gloves and Desitin diaper creme for babies is your very good friend. At one time, we ran out, and I tried using the petroleum jelly on hand. Don't do that. It doesn't work. That's when she got sores on her hinney. (Spell-check really doesn't like the word "hinney.")
Shopping for things like the Desitin has become more iffy in the last few weeks because now I can't trust her to stay put in her chair while I go away for an hour or so to get groceries and dry goods. After her manic day with two falls, I don't trust her one bit. As a small bit of black humor, the day after she fell, I thought she had chocolate pudding on her chin but discovered it was a bruise instead of pudding. Thank goodness a bruise on her chin was the only result of two falls.
Lola loves apples, and I've discovered one of those cheapo apple slicers can be a gal's best friend. I got one the other day at the General Dollar Store for, you guessed it, a dollar. Wash the apple, dry it, center the slicer over the core, and voila, cored apple slices. It takes about a minute to wash the apple, slice it and rinse the utensil off. I wish I'd gotten one of these years ago. Even I'm eating more apples now.
The rose bush by the front door has put out a multitude of beautiful blooms, and Lola loves the roses. So the other day I cut some for her and put them in a vase. As I sat the vase by her chair, it crossed my mind that she'd knock it over. Sure enough, 2 hours later I heard a thump and went running into the living room to discover the vase on the floor.
Lola's eyesight is just shot. She won't admit it for a million dollars, but she can't see worth a flip. At this stage, like other things, you can't tell whether it's eyesight or depth perception. It really doesn't matter unless you're doing a medical paper on it.
She can't see the food on her plate, and unless you tell her, she doesn't know what you've set in front of her. Part of that is lost mind; part of that is seeing. I saw her patting a plate I'd served apple slices on because she couldn't see whether or not there were any slices left. I've watched her bring her fork to her mouth countless times now with no food on it. I've watched her miss her whole plate with her fork and bring it to her mouth.
Max asked, "What about her glasses?" That just made me snort and look at him in frustration. Lola quit putting her glasses on over a half year ago, if not longer. They made no difference to her. That seemed to be a problem in the nursing homes, too, and I don't know whether it's a problem of lost mind or a severe deterioration in sight. The nursing homes Joe was in all had a drawer for unclaimed glasses. It wasn't like the patients asked for them back.
In case you're wondering, once the elderly reach the stage of throwing things on the floor, they don't seem to get over it. With a baby, at least you know they'll grow out of it. The elderly don't. I think it takes them reverting to total helpless infancy, unable to even roll over, to stop it.
I've decided I'm really quite tired of this. Seriously, really, just over it. Tired of it. Food on the floor, drinking glasses on the floor, candy wrappers on the floor, false teeth on the floor, photographs on the floor. You name it; whatever hits her hands is going to the floor.