CK - His health crashed in late 2014. His prostate had started to enlarge, and the tests for that revealed that he had early stage myeloma (cancer of the bone marrow). Usually myeloma is diagnosed after it starts to affect the bones, but scans in 2014 and 2017 show that it was caught before there was any damage. Apparently he still has the bones of a man in his fifties! But he had chemo, successfully, and then in 2015 two surgeries to reduce the size of his prostate (no malignancy there). He then caught shingles. Plus he had to have a tooth out (only his second extraction; he still has a fine set of teeth!)
His expectation was that once he had recovered from all that, he would be back to "normal" I suspect he is back to "normal for a man in his eighties." He is on a lot of pills. I strongly suspect that he is depressed. He and Mum seem to be focussing on what he can't do, rather than what he can do. Mum fusses over him, and wants him to "conserve his energy" and "not overdo things" etc.
Concurrently, his friendship circle has almost vanished as friends have died, which must be depressing in itself.
So set him a challenge - he could walk 500 miles this year, it would mean walking 1.84 miles a day on average until the end of the year. He wouldn't necessarily be aiming to walk that much to start with. You could set him up with a Fitbit or equivalent to measure how much he is doing. It might get him walking again, and using social media to record his successes - and boasting that it's possible for a man in his 80s. Exercise, getting out and having something to aim towards will work against depression.
The answer to your mother is that gentle exercise will improve his stamina and give him more energy.
Particularly if he could turn the walking into some sort of fund raising effort for Myeloma UK (or other charity). Is there a support group in his area? Not just for support, but as a recruiting ground for other partipants in a possible fundraiser?
alright ordered Dad a new cooker, ordered installation, ordered old one to be taken away. Problem, I forgot to arrange for a class to teach him how to use it. Thanks to B & R hopefully today he can use it.
All right he is 89 and coping on his own for the first time in over fifty years.
My father, at a slightly younger age, went from spud peeling duty to totally looking after himself in the kitchen and it was a steep learning curve. He became King of the slow cooker. I always made and froze litres of soup when I visited.
When Mum became unable to cook (which was awful for her, as she loved cooking and had been really good at it), Dad had to learn how to do it. She would sit at the kitchen table and give him instructions, and he'd follow them. It worked very well; although he'd never had to cook for himself, he seemed to take to it, and even to enjoy it.
If my mother wasn't in, my father got me to cook his dinner, if I wasn't around my brother got the task. If we were all out he got a takeaway. I think he got a bit better in later years, but I still remember him killing the microwave when he put the Christmas pudding in it for an hour. My mother has never liked cooking either, and appears to be slowly giving up on bothering, yet another thing to worry about.
NEQ - I hope you can get your father to be more active. Being bullied by a fitbit and having an aim to walk a certain number of miles sounds like a start, specially if he can link it to a charity or some other worthwhile cause. Has your mother got interests that you can remind her of so she doesn't focus all her energies on your dad?
I took my mother to the local resource centre for the blind on Friday. I don't think buying aids to help her see are really going to be useful as she doesn't seem to be able to use any of them well enough to be worth the cost. She was quite taken with a simple mobile phone (the Doro 5800 and I wonder if it would be worth getting her one. I'm assuming it would get lost ('stolen') in short order though.
When we got back she showed me a bracelet as proof that the neighbours had been in. She'd even taken it round to them, and left it outside their door when they said it wasn't theirs. It was the one she wore to her birthday party a month a go, and I have the photos to prove it, but of course with her eyesight she can't see the evidence.
I'm still waiting for the various agencies I contacted to get back to me. I'm going to have to be brave and get on the phone. Being deaf rarely bothers me, but at times like these having ears that work would be useful.
Miss S and Master S got the Dowager a Doro mobile phone for Christmas 2 years ago, when she was a lot better than she is now. (She had a mobile that she could use if forced, assuming that the battery was charged and it was switched on.) Sadly, she never got used to the Doro, even though it was the easiest thing imaginable. Life would be so much simpler if she could, but she can't, even though her second grandson taught her at length how it worked.
The Dowager has a big magnifier to hang round her neck, but I'm very much afraid she can't/won't use that either.
My SiL and her third grandson visited on Wednesday, immediately after me. Needless to say I had two utterly different stories about how the visit went, plus my SiL saying ' wouldn't she be happier if she had more of her own things around her?' without making any actual suggestions as to what these things might be. I feel like the biggest wet blanket in the world, but I see all the lovely things people bring her - Easter eggs, books, colouring books - and I see them all end up in her drawers. Even when I suggest getting them out, she isn't interested. Maybe it doesn't matter, if it gives visitors pleasure to bring her things and her pleasure to receive them, whether she uses them or no?
Mrs. S, wondering if the Dowager hears trees fall in the forest
Sarasa, Mum has a few interests, including needlework. She has an active life as, in addition to looking after Dad she has a number of friends who are now getting frail, and they phone and write to each other. I think she has a chat on the phone with a friend most days. Unfortunately Dad doesn't have an equivalent social circle any more and, as the wife, Mum has always been in charge of their joint social life.
However, she sees "looking after Dad" as her main role in life.
She doesn't visit me any more, because it would be too much for Dad and she won't leave him, but when she did she spent every visit on a non-stop whirl of cleaning my house, ironing my clothes etc, regardless of how much I begged her to stop, or to go out for a coffee or whatever. She wouldn't eat anything I cooked, but would insist on doing all the cooking. Even when I had something pre-prepared in the slow cooker, which just needed to be served, she would insist on it being frozen for "later" while she cooked something different with food she had brought with her. (head banging off wall emoticon)
My mother is the Protestant work ethic personified. I think the church of her childhood and early adulthood has a lot to answer for. In fact, I would cheerfully condemn church-related aspects of her life as a young woman to Hell.
I’ve noticed this about the older generation: the compulsion to behave in ways they think appropriate rather than either sensible or considerate. I put it down to having completely internalised the sense of being perpetually judged.
That's pretty much it. Mum was raised to believe in an angry God, who would punish her if she didn't do the "right" thing. All sorts of things make God angry apparently. The time that she insisted on cooking an alternative to the meal I had ready in the slow cooker, just waiting to be dished out, was because she had brought food through from her freezer which had to be either cooked and eaten or binned. And binning food makes God angry. We were all miserable - me because I'd cooked to no avail, the North East Man because had come home from work hungry, could smell lamb, knew it was ready to dish out, but had to wait an hour while Mum cooked, the kids, who were also hungry and didn't understand why dinner wasn't on the table at our usual dinner time. But God would be angry and that trumped everything.
Somebody is responsible for teaching my mother that version of Christianity.
Should say Dad happy with cooker thanks to R. This is significant progress and much quicker than he learnt the microwave. Not sure whether it is due to R's teaching (she is good) or Dad's improving health.
Easter eggs, books, colouring books - and I see them all end up in her drawers.
That paints an interesting picture of the Dowager's knickers...
I don't have elderly dependent relatives but I keep up with this thread and my heart aches for you all and your various situations. They could so easily have been mine.
In fact, I did wonder even as I posted those words if I was setting myself up (but if it gave everyone a laugh, it was worthwhile!)
My SiL's mother was once discussing with her mother how the (very) old lady would like her funeral to run. They had decided on the church, the flowers, the hymns and where the wake would be, when the old lady said, perfectly seriously, 'Well, I expect I'll be tired by then, so I'll need a little sit-down'.
I must be an innocent blushing flower as I didn't see anything untoward in easter eggs in drawers.
A friend told me the story of going to visit her mother in her care home after attending the funeral of an old family friend:
'I've just been to so and so's funeral'
'Yes, and how is she?'
When sorting out the guest list for my mother's party I asked her whether we would be inviting the grandchildren of her old friend H. 'Oh I don't think so, and I certainly don't want H to come.' Just as well as she's been dead these last five years.
Mrs S - I do think the Dowager might be struggling to actually see a lot of the things people are brining her. I know with my mum my concerns about her cognative ability are taking over my concerns about her eyesight to such an extent that I forget how little she can actually see.
Update on my father. He claims he's seeing a little better. Certainly his mood has improved. He has 4 types of eye drops 4x per day. I think it might be the attention with the drops. They are all 5 minutes between, so this is a 2 hour cumulative eye dropping each and every day. I'm doing sometimes the morning ones and always the evening. The care people do the others: "but they don't do it quite right". So he has a digital timer which he sets for 5 minutes. He certainly has a project.
Re eating, the amounts of food are always "too much", until dessert. No problem with that. Or if he gets laughing about something 80 or 85 years ago. His grandmother was quite the comedian apparently.
Oh God. The Dowager is now so paranoid that she thinks the staff at the care home are poisoning her, and is refusing to eat. The Government is engaged in a conspiracy against our family. The care home manager is bad-mouthing her to everyone else.
Care home staff are waiting for the GP's response and the results of her blood tests.
This is a case where 'what's the worst that can happen?' simply Does Not Work
I'd be calling the GP myself and asking for an assessment. Obviously some meds are off or the dementia is changing. There is absolutely no call for "badmouthing" in this day and age. Any behaviours that the staff are encountering are not intentional. Your mother is not doing this to be naughty.
My grandmother got very confused when her calcium levels got out of kilter - this was when she had cancer. That was a very quick fix. The other thoughts are UTIs.
Poor confused Dowager and everyone else dealing with her.
There is absolutely no call for "badmouthing" in this day and age. Any behaviours that the staff are encountering are not intentional. Your mother is not doing this to be naughty.
No no, Lily Pad, I know the manager would not do any such thing - this is just another example of Mum's paranoia, honest - like the conspiracy theories. Sadly, no UTIs, they checked straight away and she was clear. The GP came to see her and ordered a blood test, the home chased up on the result and are now awaiting a response.
Mrs S - I hope they sort something quickly for the Dowager. Is there a chance that there has been a too rapid change in her medication. I know suddenly taking a friend off a drug ended up with him being sectioned due to similar delusions to your mother.
I went to see my mother today. She was having someone over to clean the carpets and I thought I'd better keep an eye on things. It was a useful visit as she'd bundled up two bags of papers in a tidy up before he came. I hid in the study while he worked and filed the stuff that needed to be filed and threw away the rest. He also did her curtains so her living room looks an awful lot better. And better still he found her 'stolen' watch under the bed. I tried to find her magnifier to no avail. Apparently the last time it was 'stolen' she found it buried deep in a cupboard 'where they'd put it'. No such luck finding it today, though I found lots of jcloths and fybrogel.
The local dementia hub got back to me and said that they can't help till mum has a firm diagnosis, so we're going to have to entice her back to the doctors as I'm not sure we can wait till June to start moving things forward. Now I really ought to go and chace up the firms I emailed about care, but as it was a reasonably pleasant visit I'm scared to rock the boat.
NEQ - Any luck with getting your father more active? Your mother sounds the polar opposite to mine. Mine thinks religion is a rather pointless hobby
Np Prophet - Glad there has been some improvement in your father's sight. The eyedrop regime sounds a faff, but worth it if he can remain semi-independent.
Oh God. The Dowager is now so paranoid that she thinks the staff at the care home are poisoning her, and is refusing to eat. The Government is engaged in a conspiracy against our family. The care home manager is bad-mouthing her to everyone else.
Care home staff are waiting for the GP's response and the results of her blood tests.
This is a case where 'what's the worst that can happen?' simply Does Not Work
{{{Mrs. S. and the Dowager, and the people who care for her; and Sarasa an her mum}}}
Hearing both your stories makes me realise how lucky we were that neither Mum or Dad ever developed that sort of paranoia - it must be very distressing for you and for the people caring for your APs.
{{{Mrs. S. and the Dowager, and the people who care for her; and Sarasa an her mum}}}
Hearing both your stories makes me realise how lucky we were that neither Mum or Dad ever developed that sort of paranoia - it must be very distressing for you and for the people caring for your APs.
Ditto. Prayers for all.
My dad was quite lucky in not developing dementia. A few minor memory problems, but he was pretty independent until the last three months. Meds can be likely culprits in delusions. At one point when he was in convalescent care they prescribed a pain killer that caused some hallucinations. They didn't bother him except for the ants on the ceiling. (There was some basis for that delusion- ants had actually gotten into his bed a few days before and I reamed the staff for that; and I took a good look at the ceiling since he might have been right.) The hallucinations he enjoyed were the horse races he watched go on the upper part of the wall across from his bed. Those stopped when they changed medication.
This afternoon the staff managed to distract her with the singing activities, and she has begun to eat again - not exactly heartily, but without accusations of poisoning, etc. Deo Gratias
I was also given some useful information on dealing with delusions etc in dementia sufferers - it makes deeply depressing reading, but could provide me with a useful framework for future dealings.
Thanks to all for your kind thoughts and your prayers. Bless you for that.
Mrs. S, grateful for the support
PS Sarasa - quite a lot of the above information deals with what your Mum is going through in terms of the stealing etc. It helps me to know that these behaviours are 'standard for dementia patients', though perhaps it may not do the same for you :votive:
Having had a medical induced paranoid episode which I couldn’t express to staff (I knew it was paranoid but questioned it) I can say that it is the most dreadful experience.
Anotherday, one thing the Alzheimer's Society information referred to above taught me was that sufferers are frightened all the time. Everything else follows from that.
Mrs S, what a horrible time that you and the Dowager are having. I hope that the GP can pin it down to her medication. (votive)
Sarasa, Dad went for a routine blood test, and the nurse told him that it was very important that he keep active, so that was positive. Mum's religion is ingrained since childhood, I think. She won't go to church if it means neglecting her duties, so she goes very rarely. When I was growing up, Mum cooked Sunday lunch for Dad's parents every Sunday, so that duty precluded going to church much. We are Presbyterian, and Communion was four times a year. The church used to have a "three strikes and you're out" policy - if you missed three consecutive Communions without explanation, your membership could be suspended. So Mum aimed to attend Communion, but didn't go much apart from that, because her duty was to her parents-in-law. (I'm not convinced anyone was actually suspended for missing three Communions, but Mum lived in fear of the disgrace of it happening to her.)
Mrs S - I'm glad things are a little better with the Dowager. Prayers for her, you and all of us on this horrible ride.
NEQ - Good that the nurse is encouraging your dad to exercise. I think a fitbit or similar might be a good idea. I got mine when I retired and it is very good at bullying me to get moving.
My brother, K, has made another appointment for my mum with her GP to try and push for a referral to the memory clinic. The tricky thing is going to be persuading her to go. I'm also hoping K will come too.
NEQ, fitbits or similar are quite good fun, and Mr S and I do compete to see who can get a 'boo-ya!' day as we call them, with every light green
The Dowager managed to upset some residents last night so the GP came to see her this morning and has recommended a change in medication - gradually - to see if her mood can be improved. He also says wax in her ears may be causing the deafness and is treating that I now feel terrible because she said to the doctor that 'my daughter is fed up with me' - this may well be true, but I thought we were on better terms last time. For all that her sight is failing she can still read my expression like a book!
Sarasa - I tried to get Mum to the memory clinic but I think she was too far gone for it to have helped. My tactic was 'let's see if your forgetfulness is due to brain damage from your fall, in which case we can help it improve' but it didn't get me very far!
Mrs. S, not cut out for this sort of thing (who is?)
Mrs S - I am in total awe of how you manage things with your mother.
Selfishly, I am grateful that Dad was still alive when my mother developed dementia because this cushioned the impact on me. (She had lung cancer and every so often they would give her a blood transfusion that improved the dementia to a limited extent, so I never quite knew what state she would be in when I rang).
I don't think anyone is ever prepared for the switch of becoming the responsible adult to their parents.
Huia, I have to admit I dread calling her, especially at the moment as I am keeping from her the fact that we are within a few weeks (I hope) of moving house. So much of what is happening to me at the moment revolves around that, which makes me short of conversation, and I'm sure she'll be unsettled even more to find out. I'm waiting till it's all settled before I say anything.
I got a bit forceful with my brother in an email last night - he really does not want to admit she has dementia, attributing her symptoms to her meds (which she's been taking for two years without ill-effects). But he only ever sees her when I've made the arrangements, never in the care home, and although he's very appreciative of my efforts he seems to make none himself beyond a weekly phone call. I know he still works and is further away than I am, but it still rankles (sorry for the grumbles).
I know he still works and is further away than I am, but it still rankles (sorry for the grumbles).
*sighs sadly* I fear I was that person towards the end of my mum's life. My eldest brother was her live-in carer, the other brother and partner lived 20 minutes away, retired from work with no children. I (2.5 hours away and with a family, plus working) rather left things to them, until the non live-in brother died. I still couldn't visit the hospital every day, like she'd been used to, and I did what I could but it should have been more.
We were that person in the last year of my father-in-law's life. We were a three hour drive away, more if we got caught in traffic. My sister-in-law lived with him, and both wanted and needed us to do more. However, it became increasingly difficult to work out what we could actually do; sister-in-law had a routine and our disruption of that routine added to her stress rather than alleviated it.
Plus, we were the other way around - every time we saw my father-in-law we were concerned about how frail he was whereas my sister-in-law seemed less aware that he was deteriorating as she was living with it and it was gradual.
We are the most distant of my mother in law's family. Her other son visits twice a day and basically runs everything for her. One daughter (40 minutes drive away) is there at least once a week and the other daughter (two hours away and retired) turns up every fortnight or so. We are at least three hours (often four or five) away, and my husband still works full time. We try to get there once a month or so, but its tricky. My husband, N, is going up there this weekend, but I'd already planned other things to do so I'm not going. I count my MiL as one of my best friends so I'm a bit sorry to miss seeing her this time, but N reckons things are easier if its just him on his own as she gets even more worried and confused when there are lots of people about.
My mother phoned last night to say that she'd found her magnifier but it isn't working. I hope to goodness I threw away the broken one when I bought this one for her, and not the new one. I'm going over on Monday to have a look, assuming its not been mislaid again in the meantime and to set up the talking book machine for her that arrived yesterday. Hopefully by then my brother and I will have worked out a strategy for getting her to the doctors the following week. I almost wrote vets, it reminds me of trying to get my reluctant cats there!
Well, shame on me, because he and his wife and going to see her next weekend (I think just possibly because of my stroppy assertive email). I do have a lot of sympathy for all of you who are 'that person', still, the rest of the family do try to get to see the Dowager, even once in a blue moon. Anyway, Brother and SiL are going, but I daren't tell her when I see her on Monday, just in case a) they can't make it for any reason, or b) she spends the entire week fretting!
She seems a bit better this morning, but still thinks that half the staff are on strike (a common worry of hers, that they are all 'at war' with management) and that they deliberately let her flowers die, even though she specifically asked them not to. Nevertheless (see what I did there? ) I managed not to argue and just sympathised.
Maybe we are getting somewhere after all? Thank you, every one, for your kindness.
I have a lot more sympathy for the relatives who get landed with the bulk of the caring! We definitely got off very lightly in the last year of my father-in-law's life, but it wasn't unwillingness so much as inability on our part.
She seems a bit better this morning, but still thinks that half the staff are on strike (a common worry of hers, that they are all 'at war' with management).
My mother, in her less lucid moments, was convinced that all of the staff were having sex. One day she said to me, with the straightest face one could imagine and using language that only mothers use: "You know, everybody here 'does it.'"
I feel for my mum who is visiting every single day sometimes twice.
I have however always had a struggle with my siblings as I don’t think they realise the extent of the condition. When Miri was diagnosed I told my parents that I believed I knew what was wrong with my dad. I was right. I read the prognosis the progression of the condition and although others don’t understand it he is following the journey of the condition very accurately. My siblings are I believe unaware that they have such a limited amount of time with him. I can’t tell them.
I know he still works and is further away than I am, but it still rankles (sorry for the grumbles).
*sighs sadly* I fear I was that person towards the end of my mum's life. My eldest brother was her live-in carer, the other brother and partner lived 20 minutes away, retired from work with no children. I (2.5 hours away and with a family, plus working) rather left things to them, until the non live-in brother died. I still couldn't visit the hospital every day, like she'd been used to, and I did what I could but it should have been more.
Are you moving far, Mrs S?
I was the one left behind doing everything, the sibling being too far for regular visits.
I did not feel bad though because unlike The Intrepid Mrs S’s brother, the situation was acknowledged and understood and gratitude was expressed to me and sorrow too at not being able to do more to help.
I felt sorry for my brother in the US when first Mum, then Dad were vey ill as he didn't have the money to fly home more than once.
When my oldest brother (who has Parkinson's and is in care) is impossible my sister-in-law (youngest brother's wife) and I joke about buying him a one way ticket to the US.
I, too, was the too-far-away-to-be-of-any-use one, and I did feel guilty that going over more than once a year just wasn't an option, but there really wasn't anything we could do about it.
Now I'm getting similar guilt about D's mum, who was in hospital last week after having a fall a couple of weeks before. I understand she's OK (no broken bones), and she's back home now, but while she was in they had her on some fairly industrial-strength painkillers, which left her temporarily befuddled.
My sister cops the bulk of care for my parents and her mother-in-law. I am the backstop, the calmer of storms, the listening ear and emergency carer. We both ring my father most days; my sister in the morning and me at night. My sister visits Dad weekly and Mum fortnightly while I visit about once a month (as yet unspecified how often these visits to Dad include visiting Mum). In an emergency, she is normally the first call out; when she does not have a car then it is me (but then you are also talking two hours to get). She has her head around Dad's and Mum's finances and does quite a bit of organising of carers and such. Yes I am thankful for what my sister does. I also have to remember that what I do is not insignificant.
Jengie, that's a good point. My brother in America obviously couldn't do the hands on stuff, but he was and is still there as a loving presence and a listening ear. I have been grateful for that because he has a more objective view and is very supportive.
We were the distant relatives when Mr. Cliff's parents were aging and dying-- his SIL really bore the brunt of it-- and it was rough.
We played our part a decade later when we were the nearby relatives when my mom was dying-- and it was rough.
Probably would have been better for SIL if it had been the other way 'round-- we'd have had a lot more insight in terms of how we can be helpful long-distance after having been on the receiving end. The main thing I'd advise the distant relative is to let the nearby relative tell you what they need, rather than telling them what you can do for them. Don't expect to be catered to or entertained when you're in town-- give the nearby relative a respite which means you should plan on difficult 24/7 labor. One of the best things you can do is help the nearby relative take an annual vacation-- plan together so they can get away from town while you take over for a week or two. Bonus points if you're able to let the relative be the one who chooses when that holiday will fall.
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His expectation was that once he had recovered from all that, he would be back to "normal" I suspect he is back to "normal for a man in his eighties." He is on a lot of pills. I strongly suspect that he is depressed. He and Mum seem to be focussing on what he can't do, rather than what he can do. Mum fusses over him, and wants him to "conserve his energy" and "not overdo things" etc.
Concurrently, his friendship circle has almost vanished as friends have died, which must be depressing in itself.
The answer to your mother is that gentle exercise will improve his stamina and give him more energy.
All right he is 89 and coping on his own for the first time in over fifty years.
Jengie
My father, at a slightly younger age, went from spud peeling duty to totally looking after himself in the kitchen and it was a steep learning curve. He became King of the slow cooker. I always made and froze litres of soup when I visited.
NEQ - I hope you can get your father to be more active. Being bullied by a fitbit and having an aim to walk a certain number of miles sounds like a start, specially if he can link it to a charity or some other worthwhile cause. Has your mother got interests that you can remind her of so she doesn't focus all her energies on your dad?
I took my mother to the local resource centre for the blind on Friday. I don't think buying aids to help her see are really going to be useful as she doesn't seem to be able to use any of them well enough to be worth the cost. She was quite taken with a simple mobile phone (the Doro 5800 and I wonder if it would be worth getting her one. I'm assuming it would get lost ('stolen') in short order though.
When we got back she showed me a bracelet as proof that the neighbours had been in. She'd even taken it round to them, and left it outside their door when they said it wasn't theirs. It was the one she wore to her birthday party a month a go, and I have the photos to prove it, but of course with her eyesight she can't see the evidence.
I'm still waiting for the various agencies I contacted to get back to me. I'm going to have to be brave and get on the phone. Being deaf rarely bothers me, but at times like these having ears that work would be useful.
The Dowager has a big magnifier to hang round her neck, but I'm very much afraid she can't/won't use that either.
My SiL and her third grandson visited on Wednesday, immediately after me. Needless to say I had two utterly different stories about how the visit went, plus my SiL saying ' wouldn't she be happier if she had more of her own things around her?' without making any actual suggestions as to what these things might be. I feel like the biggest wet blanket in the world, but I see all the lovely things people bring her - Easter eggs, books, colouring books - and I see them all end up in her drawers. Even when I suggest getting them out, she isn't interested. Maybe it doesn't matter, if it gives visitors pleasure to bring her things and her pleasure to receive them, whether she uses them or no?
Mrs. S, wondering if the Dowager hears trees fall in the forest
However, she sees "looking after Dad" as her main role in life.
She doesn't visit me any more, because it would be too much for Dad and she won't leave him, but when she did she spent every visit on a non-stop whirl of cleaning my house, ironing my clothes etc, regardless of how much I begged her to stop, or to go out for a coffee or whatever. She wouldn't eat anything I cooked, but would insist on doing all the cooking. Even when I had something pre-prepared in the slow cooker, which just needed to be served, she would insist on it being frozen for "later" while she cooked something different with food she had brought with her. (head banging off wall emoticon)
My mother is the Protestant work ethic personified. I think the church of her childhood and early adulthood has a lot to answer for. In fact, I would cheerfully condemn church-related aspects of her life as a young woman to Hell.
Somebody is responsible for teaching my mother that version of Christianity.
Jengie
I don't have elderly dependent relatives but I keep up with this thread and my heart aches for you all and your various situations. They could so easily have been mine.
Nen - sending love.
In fact, I did wonder even as I posted those words if I was setting myself up (but if it gave everyone a laugh, it was worthwhile!)
My SiL's mother was once discussing with her mother how the (very) old lady would like her funeral to run. They had decided on the church, the flowers, the hymns and where the wake would be, when the old lady said, perfectly seriously, 'Well, I expect I'll be tired by then, so I'll need a little sit-down'.
Bless...
Mrs. S, finding amusement where she can
A friend told me the story of going to visit her mother in her care home after attending the funeral of an old family friend:
'I've just been to so and so's funeral'
'Yes, and how is she?'
When sorting out the guest list for my mother's party I asked her whether we would be inviting the grandchildren of her old friend H. 'Oh I don't think so, and I certainly don't want H to come.' Just as well as she's been dead these last five years.
Mrs S - I do think the Dowager might be struggling to actually see a lot of the things people are brining her. I know with my mum my concerns about her cognative ability are taking over my concerns about her eyesight to such an extent that I forget how little she can actually see.
...because I can see myself being one of the Ageing Parents giving my children similar aggravation in a few years.
Re eating, the amounts of food are always "too much", until dessert. No problem with that. Or if he gets laughing about something 80 or 85 years ago. His grandmother was quite the comedian apparently.
Care home staff are waiting for the GP's response and the results of her blood tests.
This is a case where 'what's the worst that can happen?' simply Does Not Work
The heartbroken Mrs. S
Poor confused Dowager and everyone else dealing with her.
Sorry, I wrote this in answer to Mrs S in her distress a few posts back and then did not post it.
No no, Lily Pad, I know the manager would not do any such thing - this is just another example of Mum's paranoia, honest - like the conspiracy theories. Sadly, no UTIs, they checked straight away and she was clear. The GP came to see her and ordered a blood test, the home chased up on the result and are now awaiting a response.
As am I ...
I went to see my mother today. She was having someone over to clean the carpets and I thought I'd better keep an eye on things. It was a useful visit as she'd bundled up two bags of papers in a tidy up before he came. I hid in the study while he worked and filed the stuff that needed to be filed and threw away the rest. He also did her curtains so her living room looks an awful lot better. And better still he found her 'stolen' watch under the bed. I tried to find her magnifier to no avail. Apparently the last time it was 'stolen' she found it buried deep in a cupboard 'where they'd put it'. No such luck finding it today, though I found lots of jcloths and fybrogel.
The local dementia hub got back to me and said that they can't help till mum has a firm diagnosis, so we're going to have to entice her back to the doctors as I'm not sure we can wait till June to start moving things forward. Now I really ought to go and chace up the firms I emailed about care, but as it was a reasonably pleasant visit I'm scared to rock the boat.
NEQ - Any luck with getting your father more active? Your mother sounds the polar opposite to mine. Mine thinks religion is a rather pointless hobby
Np Prophet - Glad there has been some improvement in your father's sight. The eyedrop regime sounds a faff, but worth it if he can remain semi-independent.
Hope you get answers soon.
Hearing both your stories makes me realise how lucky we were that neither Mum or Dad ever developed that sort of paranoia - it must be very distressing for you and for the people caring for your APs.
Ditto. Prayers for all.
My dad was quite lucky in not developing dementia. A few minor memory problems, but he was pretty independent until the last three months. Meds can be likely culprits in delusions. At one point when he was in convalescent care they prescribed a pain killer that caused some hallucinations. They didn't bother him except for the ants on the ceiling. (There was some basis for that delusion- ants had actually gotten into his bed a few days before and I reamed the staff for that; and I took a good look at the ceiling since he might have been right.) The hallucinations he enjoyed were the horse races he watched go on the upper part of the wall across from his bed. Those stopped when they changed medication.
I was also given some useful information on dealing with delusions etc in dementia sufferers - it makes deeply depressing reading, but could provide me with a useful framework for future dealings.
Thanks to all for your kind thoughts and your prayers. Bless you for that.
Mrs. S, grateful for the support
PS Sarasa - quite a lot of the above information deals with what your Mum is going through in terms of the stealing etc. It helps me to know that these behaviours are 'standard for dementia patients', though perhaps it may not do the same for you :votive:
What a horrible way to live ...
Mrs. S, sadder but wiser
Sarasa, Dad went for a routine blood test, and the nurse told him that it was very important that he keep active, so that was positive. Mum's religion is ingrained since childhood, I think. She won't go to church if it means neglecting her duties, so she goes very rarely. When I was growing up, Mum cooked Sunday lunch for Dad's parents every Sunday, so that duty precluded going to church much. We are Presbyterian, and Communion was four times a year. The church used to have a "three strikes and you're out" policy - if you missed three consecutive Communions without explanation, your membership could be suspended. So Mum aimed to attend Communion, but didn't go much apart from that, because her duty was to her parents-in-law. (I'm not convinced anyone was actually suspended for missing three Communions, but Mum lived in fear of the disgrace of it happening to her.)
NEQ - Good that the nurse is encouraging your dad to exercise. I think a fitbit or similar might be a good idea. I got mine when I retired and it is very good at bullying me to get moving.
My brother, K, has made another appointment for my mum with her GP to try and push for a referral to the memory clinic. The tricky thing is going to be persuading her to go. I'm also hoping K will come too.
NEQ, fitbits or similar are quite good fun, and Mr S and I do compete to see who can get a 'boo-ya!' day as we call them, with every light green
The Dowager managed to upset some residents last night so the GP came to see her this morning and has recommended a change in medication - gradually - to see if her mood can be improved. He also says wax in her ears may be causing the deafness and is treating that
Sarasa - I tried to get Mum to the memory clinic but I think she was too far gone for it to have helped. My tactic was 'let's see if your forgetfulness is due to brain damage from your fall, in which case we can help it improve' but it didn't get me very far!
Mrs. S, not cut out for this sort of thing (who is?)
Selfishly, I am grateful that Dad was still alive when my mother developed dementia because this cushioned the impact on me. (She had lung cancer and every so often they would give her a blood transfusion that improved the dementia to a limited extent, so I never quite knew what state she would be in when I rang).
I don't think anyone is ever prepared for the switch of becoming the responsible adult to their parents.
I got a bit forceful with my brother in an email last night - he really does not want to admit she has dementia, attributing her symptoms to her meds (which she's been taking for two years without ill-effects). But he only ever sees her when I've made the arrangements, never in the care home, and although he's very appreciative of my efforts he seems to make none himself beyond a weekly phone call. I know he still works and is further away than I am, but it still rankles (sorry for the grumbles).
Ain't that the truth ...
Mrs. S, unwillingly responsible but not very adult
*sighs sadly* I fear I was that person towards the end of my mum's life. My eldest brother was her live-in carer, the other brother and partner lived 20 minutes away, retired from work with no children. I (2.5 hours away and with a family, plus working) rather left things to them, until the non live-in brother died. I still couldn't visit the hospital every day, like she'd been used to, and I did what I could but it should have been more.
Are you moving far, Mrs S?
My mother phoned last night to say that she'd found her magnifier but it isn't working. I hope to goodness I threw away the broken one when I bought this one for her, and not the new one. I'm going over on Monday to have a look, assuming its not been mislaid again in the meantime and to set up the talking book machine for her that arrived yesterday. Hopefully by then my brother and I will have worked out a strategy for getting her to the doctors the following week. I almost wrote vets, it reminds me of trying to get my reluctant cats there!
She seems a bit better this morning, but still thinks that half the staff are on strike (a common worry of hers, that they are all 'at war' with management) and that they deliberately let her flowers die, even though she specifically asked them not to. Nevertheless (see what I did there?
Maybe we are getting somewhere after all? Thank you, every one, for your kindness.
Mrs. S, practising non-confrontation
I have however always had a struggle with my siblings as I don’t think they realise the extent of the condition. When Miri was diagnosed I told my parents that I believed I knew what was wrong with my dad. I was right. I read the prognosis the progression of the condition and although others don’t understand it he is following the journey of the condition very accurately. My siblings are I believe unaware that they have such a limited amount of time with him. I can’t tell them.
I was the one left behind doing everything, the sibling being too far for regular visits.
I did not feel bad though because unlike The Intrepid Mrs S’s brother, the situation was acknowledged and understood and gratitude was expressed to me and sorrow too at not being able to do more to help.
When my oldest brother (who has Parkinson's and is in care) is impossible my sister-in-law (youngest brother's wife) and I joke about buying him a one way ticket to the US.
Now I'm getting similar guilt about D's mum, who was in hospital last week after having a fall a couple of weeks before. I understand she's OK (no broken bones), and she's back home now, but while she was in they had her on some fairly industrial-strength painkillers, which left her temporarily befuddled.
We played our part a decade later when we were the nearby relatives when my mom was dying-- and it was rough.
Probably would have been better for SIL if it had been the other way 'round-- we'd have had a lot more insight in terms of how we can be helpful long-distance after having been on the receiving end. The main thing I'd advise the distant relative is to let the nearby relative tell you what they need, rather than telling them what you can do for them. Don't expect to be catered to or entertained when you're in town-- give the nearby relative a respite which means you should plan on difficult 24/7 labor. One of the best things you can do is help the nearby relative take an annual vacation-- plan together so they can get away from town while you take over for a week or two. Bonus points if you're able to let the relative be the one who chooses when that holiday will fall.