I went to see my mother today. For once she was actually in the lounge parked in front of the TV that was showing the Truss/Sunak handover. I said 'The Tories have made a right mess of things' and she said 'Of course'. The trade union activist is still in there somewhere, even if she then started talking about her long dead parents and sister.
Last week we had to move my Daddy-O from assisted living to the memory care unit where Mom has been.
The staff has wanted to move him there from the first week, but I was SO happy that he loved his rooms and was sleeping all night in his bed! We knew that his memory was getting worse, but I just wanted to keep him in his little cocoon as long as possible, since staff would help him every day to be with Mom.
As I feared, his first night in the memory care unit, he was up at 4:30 AM to go check on Mom, so he didn't rest just like it had been at the other facility. (His room is now just two doors down from Mom's.)
When I went to see them that first day, Dad was so very tired and discouraged. I sat with him and explained that the people who work there are in charge of checking on Mom, and he doesn't want to take their paychecks away from them, does he? We talked and talked and I do think he partly remembers that she is safe and so is he.
Mom is failing pretty quickly now. She knows I'm someone she loves, and sometimes she even says my name!
I'm with you on hating dementia @jedijudy, my mother too doesn't really recognise me, though sometimes she seems pleased to see me. She is such a shadow of the woman she once was.
I hope your dad settles well into his new room, he's been through a lot of changes in the last few months, so I can see why he is still worried about your mum.
Dad was taken by ambulance to the ER today with suspicions of having a stroke. Mom fell again today. It was the fifth time this month. She just can't remember that she is too weak to walk anymore.
And today, a week after that previous post, Dad was taken to the ER by ambulance again. This time he was there for about eight or nine hours. He was diagnosed with community-acquired pneumonia. Poor Daddy-O.
I went to check on Mom. She started sobbing and from the few words I could understand, she missed Dad.
The hospice nurse called me today to let me know her assessment of Mom, which is what I had been afraid of in my observations; Mom is failing rapidly. And, so is Dad.
I am so very grateful for your prayers and care. Hugs are especially good and welcome.
We knew that this would be hard, and we knew what the end result would be. But, I just don't want to give them up. I'm selfish like that. In a year and a bit, I'll be seventy, and I know most people my age don't have one parent still living, much less both parents. The last few years, we have been so much more affectionate with each other than at any other time of my life, and I don't want that to end.
If by some miracle they are still alive on January 23, that would be their 70th anniversary.
Prayers ascending for your parents @jedijudy and your mother @Lamb Chopped.
I am seventy next year, and still have my mother (just). My dad died aged seventy just a few months short of my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. In fact the last conversation I'd had with my mum before dad's death had been about party planning.
The whole parents getting older and getting older yourself is tough.
Praying for you as you go through these difficult times 🕯
Though I lost both my parents before I was 40 years old, I am in the strange scenario of watching 7 older siblings age, and I dread the inevitable. A family re-union last weekend brought it home.
Sending you much love @jedijudy - your parents really are lucky to have you supporting them and I truly hope you are getting the support you need and not overdoing it in any way.
Hope everyone's Aged P's are doing as well as they can. My mum is in hospital, but seemed better than she has done for a while when I went to see her today. She certainly knows when to pick her time to be ill.
My beloved 94 year old mother in law in New York is physically fragile, but mentally very alert. She has a 24 hour carer and the two of them have grown into a good team. We were with them over Christmas, and I hope it's OK to tell a story about them here - it's all true...
Just before we left last week I found a box of .22 shells in a desk drawer and suggested that we might offer them to the police for disposal. M-I-L agreed, but then her carer said, "We have the gun, you know!" We didn't know. She went on to say, "We wrote a proper letter to the cops asking to have it back. They checked up, and brought it here. It's in the back of the bedroom closet - I'll get it". We knew the police had firmly offered to care for an old rifle after a burglary ages ago: I'd hoped to be able to photograph it at the police station one of these days, but wasn't expecting this. It isn't a 22. It's a standard issue US Army rifle (Eddystone, 1917) and is a serious piece of personal artillery. The story is that it had belonged to her reverend father-in-law, who had probably used it for hunting in Montana. The picture I took of those two smiling women with that gun is something I shall always treasure.
Went to visit my mum today. The hospital in very large and pretty new, so she was in room on her own with a view, all rather nice if you've got to be in hospital. The staff were also all lovely. Again she seemed a bit more together than she has been for a while, we even managed a bit of a laugh.
The bad news is that a doctor phoned while we were on the way there. Scans show what could well be cancer. Doctor and I agreed that further tests to confirm that wouldn't be wise as mum is too old and frail to withstand treatment, and any tests would just confuse her. While I was explaining all this to my brother, another doctor tried to phone me. The message left said it wasn't urgent, I hope it was about a plan to get her back to her care home, where hopefully the local doctor can manage whatever happens next.
Thinking of you LC and family.
My mum should be heading back to her care home this evening. That's good in that it is much easier for me to get to see her, not so good in I'm not quite sure what her needs will be and if the care home can manage them, but I'm not thinking about that until I've called in the see them tomorrow.
Today is my Dad's 91st birthday. I managed to get him out for a cup of coffee and a scone at a nearby cafe. This was quite an undertaking as Mum is now anxious whenever he isn't in the room. But he enjoyed himself, and hopefully will also have enjoyed the leek and potato soup I made for his lunch (his favourite).
I'm going over there now to help take down the (fortunately modest) Christmas decorations. The carers this morning were thrilled to be asked to find the kings and put them at the manger, they had never heard of anything like that before!
He's had quite a few cards and several phone calls (four while we were out!) so it's been a good day overall.
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The staff has wanted to move him there from the first week, but I was SO happy that he loved his rooms and was sleeping all night in his bed! We knew that his memory was getting worse, but I just wanted to keep him in his little cocoon as long as possible, since staff would help him every day to be with Mom.
As I feared, his first night in the memory care unit, he was up at 4:30 AM to go check on Mom, so he didn't rest just like it had been at the other facility. (His room is now just two doors down from Mom's.)
When I went to see them that first day, Dad was so very tired and discouraged. I sat with him and explained that the people who work there are in charge of checking on Mom, and he doesn't want to take their paychecks away from them, does he? We talked and talked and I do think he partly remembers that she is safe and so is he.
Mom is failing pretty quickly now. She knows I'm someone she loves, and sometimes she even says my name!
I hate this horrible disease with a passion.
I hope your dad settles well into his new room, he's been through a lot of changes in the last few months, so I can see why he is still worried about your mum.
Dementia is hideous.
Dad was taken by ambulance to the ER today with suspicions of having a stroke. Mom fell again today. It was the fifth time this month. She just can't remember that she is too weak to walk anymore.
What Sarasa said
And today, a week after that previous post, Dad was taken to the ER by ambulance again. This time he was there for about eight or nine hours. He was diagnosed with community-acquired pneumonia. Poor Daddy-O.
I went to check on Mom. She started sobbing and from the few words I could understand, she missed Dad.
I am so very grateful for your prayers and care. Hugs are especially good and welcome.
We knew that this would be hard, and we knew what the end result would be. But, I just don't want to give them up. I'm selfish like that. In a year and a bit, I'll be seventy, and I know most people my age don't have one parent still living, much less both parents. The last few years, we have been so much more affectionate with each other than at any other time of my life, and I don't want that to end.
If by some miracle they are still alive on January 23, that would be their 70th anniversary.
Prayers ascending for you all.
I am seventy next year, and still have my mother (just). My dad died aged seventy just a few months short of my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. In fact the last conversation I'd had with my mum before dad's death had been about party planning.
The whole parents getting older and getting older yourself is tough.
Though I lost both my parents before I was 40 years old, I am in the strange scenario of watching 7 older siblings age, and I dread the inevitable. A family re-union last weekend brought it home.
Just before we left last week I found a box of .22 shells in a desk drawer and suggested that we might offer them to the police for disposal. M-I-L agreed, but then her carer said, "We have the gun, you know!" We didn't know. She went on to say, "We wrote a proper letter to the cops asking to have it back. They checked up, and brought it here. It's in the back of the bedroom closet - I'll get it". We knew the police had firmly offered to care for an old rifle after a burglary ages ago: I'd hoped to be able to photograph it at the police station one of these days, but wasn't expecting this. It isn't a 22. It's a standard issue US Army rifle (Eddystone, 1917) and is a serious piece of personal artillery. The story is that it had belonged to her reverend father-in-law, who had probably used it for hunting in Montana. The picture I took of those two smiling women with that gun is something I shall always treasure.
The bad news is that a doctor phoned while we were on the way there. Scans show what could well be cancer. Doctor and I agreed that further tests to confirm that wouldn't be wise as mum is too old and frail to withstand treatment, and any tests would just confuse her. While I was explaining all this to my brother, another doctor tried to phone me. The message left said it wasn't urgent, I hope it was about a plan to get her back to her care home, where hopefully the local doctor can manage whatever happens next.
My mum should be heading back to her care home this evening. That's good in that it is much easier for me to get to see her, not so good in I'm not quite sure what her needs will be and if the care home can manage them, but I'm not thinking about that until I've called in the see them tomorrow.
So sorry to hear this @Lamb Chopped . Prayers for you and your family; also for @Caissa 's father and @Sarasa 's mother.
I'm going over there now to help take down the (fortunately modest) Christmas decorations. The carers this morning were thrilled to be asked to find the kings and put them at the manger, they had never heard of anything like that before!
He's had quite a few cards and several phone calls (four while we were out!) so it's been a good day overall.