Dementia and my mom
I never imagined that I would lose my mother.
day to day
moment by moment
To something called Dementia.
I figured we’d have quiet times
to remember
to play board games,
But a thief stole and claimed his vision
And the puzzles are gone
scrabble games
Even the crazy 8.
The next thing to go was his memory.
“Why am I here in this place?”
“When can I go home?”
“Where is my stuff?”
“I think I own this building, I inherited it.”
“Do you know where my room is?”
“I never see you.” Mom, I’ve been here every day.
“Why can’t I go with you?”
Since you can’t walk, you’re in a wheelchair.
“If I can”
Mom, do you need help going to the bathroom?
Getting in and out of bed requires two people.
“Your father was here, he slept with me last night”
Dad has been gone for almost 20 years.
But they tell me to just agree with her so as not to upset her.
But it bothers me…
Confined to a wheelchair, her days drag on
You sleep or go out in the sun, “to absorb”
“I’m glad you’re here,” she says and then falls asleep.
Every day the same, but a little different
Foods you can’t remember
The time of day she has no idea
Waiting, wondering why she’s still alive
“I told you I wouldn’t stay, but I’m still here”
It’s okay mom, we’re glad you’re still here.
He had been coming for a long time. Since last fall she had been in and out of the hospital with various infections and we thought she was gone in March when her blood pressure dropped and she had another infection, but she recovered even without the medication. The problem was that she could no longer walk on her own. She had needed help for a long time and I had been in her residence for weeks 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It was time to make a move to a nursing home. We did the paperwork and then we waited. She had to stay in the hospital as she could not return to her residence. That meant we had to clean out her room, throwing out a lot of stuff that wouldn’t fit in her new room: dressers, chairs, tables, and her electric bed. The family took what she could, but we only gave away what was left.
My sister lives 5 hours away so she tries to come every other weekend which helps but the main care falls on me. I feel so guilty if I can’t get in every day, even though I know she’s safe. There are little things that are not being done, for which they do not have time because they have too many people to take care of. I am worried about what will happen to me when I am 98 years old. It is time for the government to pay more attention to health care for the elderly.