We moved Mom back to Texas from the Independent Living community we had moved her to in Tulsa after about 6 months there. It became clear that just the effort expended to live amongst those with their minds intact was such a huge burden for her that she was unable to acclimate. So, on the 4th of July this year my sister and her family drove to Tulsa, packed up Mom's large 'apartment' room and drove her to Garland, Texas. We began her on the assisted living side of this community but we soon realized "Assisted Living" was not what we thought it was, imagined it was or were told it was. Assisted living is not unlike independent living. The only difference is that they handle meds, clean the rooms and do the laundry. With the occasional redirect. But mostly, the residents are left to their own accord.
Mom needed more. She needed activity. Her mind was still so sharp that the empty halls and the one game of cards a day wasn't doing it for her. She became quite agitated. Partly because she had a UTI, which we have come to know, causes great disorientation and acting out in the elderly with dementia.
Note to self: next time Mom has one of these meltdowns, call the doc for UTI meds. Okay. Got it!
Mom is now on the Memory Care side of the assisted living community. And despite my misgivings, mostly because I didn't want to admit she needed it yet, she has done quite well. The staff love her, her conversations and the off-hand jokes, as I have said before, because she functions at an almost normal level compared to most of the residents there and is easy to care for. Whereas she was at the bottom of the clarity level the last 2 places she has lived, here she is top dog in that arena! They tell me she is very helpful with the other residents when they need assistance.
I picked up Mom today to take her to church with us and then back to our house for pizza and the LSU/Oregon football game. She did well in church since Catholics are so rote and because all of its traditions are long term memories. When we got back to my house, however, she became more disoriented as the evening progressed.
Sometimes her conversations are so clear. Othertimes she makes no sense at all. It's a conversation that begins on another dimension. Over the past 2 months I have learned to slide into her reality a bit easier. It has taken some time to learn how, but it always ends up easier on the both of us when I am able to do that.
Mom: "well the man said he'd get all the paperwork done and turned in. But you know, when you rely on someone else to do something for you, you need to follow up to make sure it got done."
Me: "well, lets check on that when I bring you back tonight."
Mom: "okay."
And then its done. She's good and I'm sort of good. "where's my purse?" "you didn't bring your purse, Mom."
Mom: "I don't even know where my purse is!"
Me: "It's in your nightstand." Mom: "You know that for a fact?" Me: "Yes, we decided to put it back before we left." Mom: "Oh okay. There's nothing in it anyway."
We had the purse conversation no fewer than 10 times.
New note to self: always bring Mom's purse wherever we go, even though there's nothing in it. She just wants to see it. She's carried one for 50 years. Okay. Got it!
After about 5 hours together it was apparent that she was getting more unsure about things. I decided to take her back to her "apartment room". She didn't recognize the place when we walked in the front door. She's aware enough to remember that we would need a key to get in the door this time of night. I assured her I knew the code to the alarm box.
When we arrived at her room, she immediately recognized her roommate and I could almost see her shoulders drop and her anxiety lessen when she was with her things. Her pictures, her bed, her chair. Her home.
I told her to brush her teeth, get into her jammies and get some rest. She told me I didn't need to stay and she walked me to her door. We kissed and she said "drive safely." And I left.
I found a card at the nurse's station addressed to my mom so I walked it back to her room. I tiptoed in so as to not awaken them if they had fallen asleep but mom was in the bathroom brushing her teeth in her cute nightie. I showed the envelope to her and said I had found it at the front and wanted her to have it. With toothbrush and paste in her mouth she said "Oh, thank you! Be safe driving home!" We kissed again and I left. It was an easy parting. And she was so sweet brushing her teeth. I've seen her do it a thousand times. It was as if everything was normal.
I love you so much, Mom!
