So grateful…
I am thankful for my mother; for the mother I had growing up, for the woman she was, for the softness of her skin, and the smile on her face when she sees me. I am thankful for every day I still have with her. I am thankful for the touch of her hand, for how much she seems to love my children (her grandchildren).
And now, I will go and bring her some sweet potatoes with marshmellows…
Hi, I skimmed your blog and was moved by the above. I started on page where your mom at 4th facility grabbed yoru hand and said I want out of here. Does she have Frontal Temporal Dementia? My mother has FTD and PPA (is almost totally mute now). I am in a quandry trying to place her in the “right” facility. Independent Living has worked for sometime now, but she’s beginning to get depressed. Meds are being tweaked. I’m also understanding that she is bored. I’m going to try an adult daycare 3 days per week. I have a toddler and work parttime. Life is so stressful, but never dull!
I want to send you a poem I wrote about my mom when she was living with us in 2007. I only just stumbled across it a few weeks ago.
My heart goes out to you, Michele Morgan
I’m not sure if this box will accept poem this long. Just email me back if you want me to send it to you. It’s about me loving my mom and hanging on. It’s kind of hokey, but funny too. She stood on air conditioner when first here and let it blow her dress up like Marilyn Monroe. I had forgotten that.
Dear Michele,
Thank you for your comment, and for sharing the trials and tribulations you are facing. Between kid, work, and dementia, I am amazed how you are holding up!
My mother does not have Frontal Temporal Dementia, just your old run-of-the-mill Alzheimer Disease. She still speaks a bit, very quietly with words, very clearly with her eyes.
Sigrun seems peaceful these days. She smiles a lot, still embraces my children, and loves chocolate.
Keep a close eye on your mother’s meds. When my mother was at a skilled nursing facility to recover from hip replacement surgery, she was given all kinds of medications (including Seroquel – be sure to Google “seroquel anger” if your mother is getting it), and she later developed serotonin syndrome which almost killed her. That is when hospice stepped in and took her off of most medications. Almost immediately she recovered from the immediate symptoms, and over the course of a year regained much of her strength.
That is when I learned my lesson not to accept any medication for my mother without first researching it. I also learned to treasure all the caregivers who rely on their abilities rather than chemicals to nurture Sigrun’s remaining abilities – rather than to subdue her deficits.
Please, do share your poem in a comment, so other people can read it, as well.