Awww...

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Cute Lies

A friend of mine told me today that they had to put her grandmother in a home years ago (Alzheimer's, I believe). They told her the home was a hotel, and she spent three years "holidaying" there. Happy as a lark.

Cute.

Dead Dogs/Furniture

I had no choice but to "Aww..." and "Oh my..." and "Oh dear..." and laugh hysterically at my mom's latest blog post about living with Graham Cracker. It's so sad, it's funny; it's so funny, it's sad.

Here's the link.

What a trip!

Update of Sorts

Well, she successfully made it to OKC. Her dog caused all kinds of problems on his way, though. That's a long story I'll let J sort out at some point. But evidently, as per B, she's still complaining about her dog arriving. B reminds her, the dog was ill, so J brought him to her, but she forgets that part over and over, and just complains about him being there over and over.

So I'm wondering how she's going to do with her furniture arriving. Which is happening as I type this. I sure hope M2 is right in thinking she won't notice. That would be great!!

Act I, Scene I

Grandma's in Oklahoma.
Her stuff is on a truck, on its way.
Shaggy is in Oklahoma.
Grandma is happy to see B and S.
Grandma likes her room and her bed.

[Cast passes out from exhaustion.]

.....and SCENE.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

And we're home.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Arrived

We are in OKC and Grandma is pleased as punch to see S. Excited to be in her birthplace. Asked multiple times if B has dogs, asked multiple times how long it's been since i've been here. But all in all, today is good so far.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Grandma on board

We're on the plane, about to take off. This morning couldn't have gone better. She's happy, and we're on our way. Today's blessings are overwhelming.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Q&A

"When do I get to go home?"

"Next Tuesday." (Always answer this.)

"What day is it?"

"Wednesday."

Q&A

"Why is all my stuff here?"

"Because you're going to stay here for a little while. Your house burned down and this was all we could salvage. Shaggy's the only one who survived."

Safe!

"Mom, I am winning an award for nursing, so everyone's coming over to celebrate tonight."
"You are? That's wonderful! Oh I'm excited!"
[conversation...]
"So will you pack your suitcase for tomorrow?"
"Sure! I'd be glad to!"
[conversation...]
"I need to put names on the dogs' bowls so whoever takes care of them will know what to do."
"Well, she'll be over tonight, you can show her."
"Oh! Ok! Good idea. She's your daughter?"
"She's M's daughter."
"She is?"

I feel like I'm on a roller coaster sometimes. Man, Alz will sure keep you on your toes.

Things to go to Graham's

I can't type fast enough

Oh she's in there, pecking at B. I feel bad for B.

Told G she's going to OKC. "I wish you hadn't done that."
"But S bought you a ticket."
"I have three dogs."
"R1 will take care of them, she offered to."
"Promise me you'll never, ever do this to me again."
[Yes, G, we promise.]

Asked G if she wants to wear this shirt on the plane. "I'd have to iron it." "No, it's a t-shirt, you don't have to." "I WOULD IRON THAT." Alrighty, then.

B asks, "Would you like more coffee?" "PUT THAT DOWN." "I'm asking if you'd like more coffee." "PUT THAT DOWN RIGHT NOW. You need to learn that you can't just assume things when you're in someone else's house. I live alone and I can do it myself."

I suspect the fact that she's - surprise! - going to Oklahoma City, caught her off guard, and now she's irritable/frustrated. She doesn't know who made the coffee (she did), and has asked three or four times. She's following B around, clucking at her about everything, and then following it with "AREN'T YOU SO PRETTY?!"

FAIL

I have her her meds for the day (Thursday). I sat there with her while she took them. She got up to get the laundry, came back and folded it. I talked to Josh and Jason for awhile, she went to bed. I went to get her pill box and she'd taken Saturday's pills as well. I know for a fact they were in there when I have her the box.

A little scared. Dear God, please don't let the extra full dose of everything kill her. Please.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Fun with Alz

I taught her how to use my blackberry. Pretty safe, because I know it won't last, and she enjoyed doing that.

Also told her all my bank account numbers.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

stylin'

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

All I Can Think About

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Two Little Things

She came into my room at 4am, "Who's there??" I sat up and she said, "Oh! I'm sorry!" She often forgets that I'm staying here.

Unloading the dishwasher, she gets to the silverware tray. Opens the silverware drawer and stares at it. "I can't remember where this stuff goes. What is all this?"

Hairs Did

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Irony

I found two interesting things on the counter tonight:

1. A letter to M, reaming him out because she wants her money back, she's always been very responsible and never disappointed D when he was around, has always had control of her money, wants it back NOW, has never been sloppy or made bad decisions.
2. A self-addressed, pre-paid envelope to the ASPCA, with their sob story letter enclosed and her last $6. This is the same $6 that set her off this morning, because it was all she could find and it sent her into that "M has control of my money" swirl.

Makes me want to go through every single thing that is on her counter. Also makes me think the $40 she "lost" last week was possibly sent to the Republican Party or the orphans or whomever.

Swiss Cheese

This morning, when I got up, she asked me when E is coming over.
"She was here on Saturday."
"She's coming over to take us for breakfast. When will she be here?"
"We already did that. That was Saturday."
"But she said she'd take us! Did she cancel?? Where is she? When is she coming?" (Upset.)
"Grandma, she took us out on Saturday morning."
"Why did she cancel on me?"
"She didn't. We already did that."
"We did?"
"Yes."

It's getting to where the things she's mistaken about are somewhat hurtful. She was convinced E had canceled and there was some kind of "why doesn't she want to see us?" going on in there. This is tricky.

Today, M is my father. And we look alike. Alrighty.

Today

Today had some variety. We went to breakfast with B and M, and it was enjoyable. It was a buffet, so every time she'd get up for food (four times?), she'd have to be lead back to our table, as she couldn't remember where it was. She asked M what year he was in school about 7, maybe 10, times. She was happy and chipper and delighted to be out and about with us, though. Just extra Alz-y today.

This afternoon, R1 came over to keep me sane/company, and we went to the store and came back. Grandma felt the need to dictate, loudly, what we should be doing. I tried so hard to ignore her, but I was a little tense anyway, knowing I had a full bottle of wine to change out. I was glad when L called to talk to her, because it got her out of the kitchen long enough for me to run back to The Lab to do the switcharoo.

We made her dinner (quite good, I'd like to add [thanks, R1]) and sat down with her. There was some easy conversation, and then a mini-rant on not being able to drive, but overall dinner was OK. I felt a little...hurt when she said she's always alone, she never eats well, and no one takes her anywhere, yadda yadda, because, well, that's why I'm here... But I know it's the Alz talking.

I was irritable/tense from her constant clucking about the kitchen, so I took a shower and talked to M(h) for awhile. I went back out to the kitchen an hour or so later to check on her meds, and she was chipper again. We sat down to talk (I was there to make sure those meds went down) and we had a great talk. Except...She forgot who I am. She knew my name, but not my parents, not where they live, not how we're related (or that we are related, even). She also was excited to hear I'm staying here, and was surprised I was here last night. She was oddly concerned about when I would see my husband again. Usually, she knows who I am, but not that I'm married. She became very aware of her memory loss at that point and asked me why she was losing her mind. I said, "You're not crazy, just forgetful." She seemed really bothered by not knowing how we're related, and was amazed at how long we've been acquainted. She said, a couple times, that she had been napping really hard when I walked in and was probably just confused because of that. (She was awake.) She thought my walking in after my shower was my arriving at the house. I reminded her of our dinner with R1, and she commented on how fun that was. I reminded her of her friend coming over the other night, and she said she remembered that. A couple more triggers, but not much was holding up. Like, telling her S is my dad, and her not knowing who S is. The name was familiar, but she didn't connect him to B or me.

This was probably the farthest off so far (I'd say this is even farther than the "it's not Thanksgiving" day, because today, she didn't know who her family was). She did remember her elementary school in Oklahoma City, and her mother and brothers. But her kids, their spouses, and her grandkids...Names are familiar, but who they are and how they fit into her life...gone. And the same questions were asked and answered several times over.

Damn, I hate this disease. I HATE IT. It makes me angry sometimes.

Update: She just came into my room and said, "Are you M&M's daughter?" She's not wearing hearing aids, so I nodded. "I'm finally getting it!" I let her be excited. The truth just isn't worth it sometimes.

But After A Rough Start, A Good Day

After the morning situation yesterday, I went to "work" (a coffee shop not too far away) for awhile. When I got back, she was chipper as a chicken and buzzing about, doing whatever it is Grandma does. She asked twice when we were going to R1's. She got ready an hour and a half early (even took a second shower!), and put on her nice shoes. (Sometimes, she's so sweet and childlike, it brings tears to my eyes.) She looked really pretty. She asked again when M was coming. (R1: thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. And the dinner was excellent.)

I'm seeing a slight correlation. When she's rested and happy, or has something to look forward to, she's sharper. "We're going to R1's for dinner! I sure do like her new husband. I went to their house once recently and I really like their place!" (!!!)

She did think M is my father, and seemed surprised that my mom is in Oklahoma City. She showed us her watch three times, I think. Some of the dinner table talk was a little off, but several things she said were surprisingly spot-on.

During dinner, I asked if she remembered Cocoa, the Siamese cat. She said she didn't. I said, "the one that used to play with Ring, the dog." Then she remembered. So, sometimes, context helps. I could have described Cocoa all night with no luck, but mentioning Ring triggered something.

So, here are my observations:

• If she's excited about something and well-rested, more pieces will be in place.
• If she's happy and well-rested, more pieces are in place, but not nearly as many as when she's excited.
  
• If she can't remember one thing specifically, describe the things relating to it. Context seems to help with memory.
  

A Rough Start

Yesterday had a rough start. She woke up and took a shower and put on all clean clothes, and even put in her hearing aids. When I got up, she'd gotten ready to go, made coffee, and was singing to all the woodland creatures who have started coming to visit in the mornings. And then it got sad.

She was looking for her keys when I walked in. She couldn't find them. Frustrated. She looked for her purse and money. Found the purse, no money. More frustrated. Then she remembered she can't drive and M has control of her money. She started slamming things down and crying. (In case you're wondering, this is torture to watch.) She was sobbing. "I have no money and that damn doctor said I can't drive and all I wanted is to go to the store to get one of those...those...round things with fruit....the..... [I supplied 'Danish'] Yes! Danish! That's all I want at the store, but I can't go to the store because I can't drive and I don't have any money and....and......and....." Sobbing. I wanted to crawl into a hole.

It was like a little girl who had put on a pretty dress because she thought she was going to get to go somewhere and then this big mean man came in and said no and smashed all her hopes and dreams in one fell swoop. Her response was crushing. All I could do was put my hand on her back while she cried. (The book I read said touch is really important to them. She responds well to this.)

I did tell her I'd take her to the store to get a Danish, if she wanted. She said no, thanks, you have work to do. I would have taken her, but...do I indulge her every whim? I was torn between the guilt of what I was seeing, and knowing I have the ability to take her to the store, but I haven't gotten any work done in the last three days and really needed to work, and taking her to the store is usually a long ordeal. I wasn't feeling patient enough to go to the store, especially with work hanging over my head. Besides, I don't think it was actually about going to the store. I think it was this frustration and helplessness that is now her life. This morning, I'm still struggling with the guilt of not taking her, even though I know she's forgotten it.

I did write her a note about going to R1's for dinner, and that seemed to distract her enough and point her forward. Distraction is key.

R1 Fast-Forwards

"Why didn't anyone tell me yesterday was R1's birthday? Can you believe she's 56?"

OK, she almost has it. It was B's birthday last week and yes, she's 56. So all the pieces are in there, just in the wrong order. :)

Shake Your Booty!

Come on. Do it with me now: shake, shake, shake!

Why?

IT WORKED. She hasn't mentioned wine since the Great Swap Part Deux. I did spend a good part of yesterday searching for the bottle she was using, but eventually found it in the back of a cabinet. She definitely has some deeper issues with guilt or something about it, given that she justifies and justifies and justifies it with the same story ad nauseam, and that she "hides" it. Anyway, the non-alcoholic wine seems to be hitting the spot and I'll tell ya - I am SO grateful.

She also is sleeping at night. Tuckers out around 9, and sleeps until at least 1, if not longer. The last two nights, she's been going straight back to bed after she wakes up again.

Last night, she came into my room around 4. She stood in the doorway for awhile, and walked down the hall a couple times... I got up and she said, "I'm trying to find the bathroom." I put my hand on her back, and turned her around toward her bathroom, and turned on the light and pointed at the door. Then she recognized it. Now, that could have been the normal disorientation we've all experienced, waking up in the middle of the night and forgetting where you are temporarily, especially if you're on sleep aids. So I'm not raising the Alert Level for this, but it is worth noting, in case it happens again.

The Great Wine Swap, Part Deux

This is what my shower looks like right now. The plastic tub is real wine, the bottles are non-alcoholic wine (thanks, M!). No, I do not always keep a corkscrew in my shower caddy.

She wrote me a 6-post-it-note letter, begging me to please take her to the store for wine so she can sleep, M will pay me back, I can't find my car keys, please help me, I need it to sleep. I found the notes on the counter; she's on the couch...asleep.

She told me this morning she hasn't slept in many nights because she's had no wine, yet when I wake up at night and check on her, she's usually asleep. If she's not asleep, the next time I'm up to check, she usually is.

Let's hope this non-alcoholic wine trick works. It tastes pretty darn good!

PS: Wine will stain your shower, FYI.

F Dash Dash Dash

Remember The Christmas Story? Fudge.

The Great Wine Swap was a flop. THREE letters today, asking for wine.

"Libby, I need you to take me to the store to get some wine."
"I bought you wine last night."
"You did?"
"Yes, where's the bottle?"
"Oh THAT? That wasn't wine, honey. I'm sorry to tell you. It wasn't wine."
"You drank the whole thing."
"It wasn't wine."

Foiled. Going to try non-alcoholic wine tonight.

Reading

She claims to read ALL day long. This is somewhat true. She sleeps quite a lot. She reads the paper and magazines, but not books, so far as I can tell. There's a Nora Roberts book on the counter, but my suspicion is that she isn't able to actually read through a book anymore, because I don't know that she'd be able to retain/follow a plot.

Remember the Great Wine Swap? 15 mins later, she said she needed to go to the store to get wine. I said, "I bought you some!" She looked surprised and excited, like it was the first she'd heard of it. So reading through a book that could take a couple days (or even an afternoon) seems like a stretch. If she can, awesome! I sincerely hope so! But my guess is she's not able to anymore.

We were, however, able to talk about an article in the paper she'd read. She told me what happened, and we talked about it like two normal people discussing current events. I told her a similar story I'd read, and we discussed that as well. This is kind of a big deal, because this was the longest string she's held together in awhile. She stayed on topic and retained information throughout the conversation.

These little windows make me smile.

Today's Cake-Taker

This is my favorite one to date:

"Do you know R1?"
"Yep! Love her."
"Oooh she loves you."
"Yeah?"
"Oh yeah. Talks about you a lot."
"Yeah?"
"Oh yeah. I think it's safe to say you're her hero."
"Yeah?"
"Oh definitely. She really admires you."

(R1: I'd be happy to send you an autographed photo.)

I remember a similar conversation about 15 years ago. I was Babysitter aged and R1 was Babysittee aged. I was older and that was cool to her. Grandma mentioned this at the time. There's a lot of "looking up to" when you're 6 years older than all the other grandkids. I think she's thinking of back then.

Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accept...

• Diet grape juice? Check.
• Wine with twist-off top? Check.
• Grape soda bottle? Check. (Can't bring myself to dump out a gallon of perfectly good water.)

Drive toward home, stop in alley. Dump out soda, refill bottle with wine. Refill wine bottle with grape juice, tighten top. Sticky fingers! Walk in door with bag of groceries, stand in front of wine bottle and dump in a bunch of lemon juice. Surprise! I bought you the bottle of wine you've been asking for.

Overjoyed!

Mission: Accomplished.

The BGDE (Best Granddaughter Ever): R1

The award goes to R1 this morning. Replacing her wine with grape juice (and at B & S's suggestion, a touch of lemon juice) will get her off my back about it. Heck, she hasn't noticed she's drinking decaf. I'll just tell her it's crappy wine. :D

Things She Can, And Should, Do

Wash dishes.
Fold laundry.
Chop vegetables.
Make the bed.
Feed the dogs.
Make the coffee (you might have to covertly re-make it).
Shred paper for the recycle bin (with her hands).
Get the paper/mail.

I'll list other things as I observe them. She feels really good about herself when you let her do things. If she asks you if you'd like some water, YES, you do. If she asks you if you'd like coffee, no, thank you, but may I have some water? Validate, validate, validate. The difference in her attitude is obvious when she's feeling validated vs. frustrated.

Setting The Record Straight

This morning, she wanted to know if I had a problem with M(2).
"Do you have trouble with her?"
"No! Why?"
"Well, why aren't you staying with M&M?"
"Because your house is closer to work."
"Oh! I wondered if there was a problem. But you're just closer to work here?"
"Yep. I love them!"
"Oh good. I was hoping everything was OK."

Sometimes, she strings somewhat logical, if inaccurate, thoughts together. Usually in the mornings.

Ding ding ding!!

She keeps asking about who is related to whom, and usually has it totally wrong. So I drew her a family tree this morning. She stared at it for a long time, then started listing things correctly: spouses, cousins, grandchildren, etc.

Draw! It helps! I now have a new plan to get a big posterboard and make a family tree with photos and names. Then when the record of her brain skips, she can quickly put it all back together (even if just momentarily).

Wow. My Personal Life Just Got More Interesting!

[knock on office door]
Do you want some milk or coffee or anything?
No, thanks.
Is M your father?
(I nodded. I don't explain things when she's not wearing her hearing aids.)
But his wife is not your mother.
Nope.
Where is your mother?
She's in Oklahoma.
Oklahoma?
Yes, with S.
Oh! She's with a nice fellow.
Yep!
Ok, I won't bother you again.

The Way She Is

She just came into my "office" and gave me her last $5. I know it is, because yesterday, this is all we could find. She just gave it to me for my lunch money.

Still sweet Graham Cracker. Ever generous, ever caring.

No Idea

She was still awake when I crashed at about 1:00, but her bed was turned down, and I think she was in her bathroom, possibly brushing her teeth.

This morning, chipper as a spring chicken! Happy, coffee made, sun is shining, birds are singing, woodland creatures are scaling her fence just to be near her. I have no idea if she slept for 1 hour or 10. The anti-depressant is CLEARLY WORKING!

She did start our morning conversation with "I need you take me to the grocery store."
"What's on your grocery list?"
"I'll make it later.
[pause]
I need wine and I want to go before the church people see me buying it because it's none of their business."
And then she went into her "...and I only drink this much..." speech.

I actually prayed the Alzheimer's would get slightly worse. I did. I prayed it - but only on the part of the brain that makes her think she needs alcohol. Is it possible the alcohol is actually preserving that part? Weird, Frankenstein's-lab-with-preserved-brains-in-jars thought. Sorry. Anyway, that might be the most horrible thing I have ever asked God for. Just that little tiny part to be forgotten. Please, God? Because the nagging is a little - a lot - much. And if you need alcohol to go to sleep, we need to consider that there might be other problems, other than insomnia, in play.

Update

It's 1 am and she's still up. I wonder if they can give her something that will help her STAY asleep. The new stuff puts her to sleep, but she's waking up a couple hours later.

Mayday! Mayday!

She's up! It's 11:45 and she's up! Ack!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I Do Believe We Have A Winner

It's 11pm and she's asleep, no alcohol. Keep this up and she'll be on a normal schedule! Hallelujah!

She did beg and beg and beg for wine this afternoon when I got home. Unfortunately, I had to go to a business meeting that kept me out until past the time the store closes. Sad.

Today, she asked me about my job, and I think she thinks I'm in sales. Well, she thought that today, at least. What's funny, is how her thinking is different, having grown up when women didn't have careers. She asked if being young kept people from working with me, and if being a woman made them think I didn't do business well. I had to hide my offense (I know why she's asking and it's not a personal insult), and I said, "I am very, very good at what I do. They'd be stupid not to work with me." This made her laugh. Truthfully, if I was really in sales, they'd be stupid if they did work with me!

Oh Happy Day!

This morning is joyous! Grandma slept!! No alcohol, just sleep! So she's in a great mood and I am feeling fairly victorious.

Is B your mother?
Yes.
Is M your father?
No. He's your son.
I love M. She's wonderful, but I don't have to tell you that because you know her.
Yes, she's wonderful.
Is B here?
Nope.
I wish she was.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Too Much?

So I'm thinking about setting the clocks forward a couple hours. Wondering if this will help with the sleep thing. Thoughts, world?

YIPEE!

I gave her three (3) of the sleeping med tonight (doc said to). I know for a fact she has had no alcohol and no caffeine in two days. It's 11:30 and she is OUT like a light. YAY! Maybe she'll wake up in a bit, I don't know. But when she took the stuff around 8:30, she got drowsy around 9:00. I asked if she was sleepy and she intentionally perked up, "no! not at all!" Uh-huh. And now she's passed out, snoring. Yeah! I kept her awake a long time today on purpose, hoping she'd sleep tonight. We just might be onto something here.

Quite excited. :)

Short, Because I Need To Watch Hulu

Today was, again rough. I'm going to stop saying that, and just say it was normal. Highlights:

• Notes under my door, begging me to take her to buy liquor. "I need it for my health."
• E came over for dinner at 4:30, and we ate at 5:00. At 8:30, Grandma suggested we all have dinner together.
• Long, loud tirades about NEEDing alcohol to put her to sleep and not being able to drive her car. "I have spare keys. I can just drive there myself if I want. Or I'll just call a cab."
• Many "why don't we ever talk anymore" comments to E, whom she's talked to in the last week, and has seen recently (I didn't know this).
• According to E, there was a concern on Grandpa's part about her alcohol intake (again, I didn't know this).
• She was angry that I didn't want the water bottle she put in front of me. Acted like she was going to throw it at me, but didn't. I wonder if at some point, she really will.
• She is clearly very frustrated. I don't think she likes having me around, because it makes it obvious when she's forgotten something. I try not to be obvious when I'm correcting something - I'm really careful - but she picks up on a lot and I can see it really frustrating her.
• Typical fights: showering and taking pills. "I just did." Nope. Sure didn't.
• "Grandma, you don't need alcohol because the doctor gave you something to help you sleep."
  [gasp!] "I do NOT take that sort of thing. I'm not like that." (Because that's...worse than drinking yourself to sleep?)
• Didn't know my name once or twice.
• Didn't know how old R1 is, and had some odd understanding of her being married and living here, but still being in school in Penn.
• Today she knows I'm married! Hooray!
• Ish. Wanted to know if I was married or engaged, then apologized for asking such a personal question. Wanted to know where M (husband) is, and hasn't he been here all along? Because if we need the front room to ourselves, as newlyweds, she will leave us alone. But if we're just engaged, she won't judge. (Oh. My. Word.)
• She fed the dogs! First time in maybe 3 days she's initiated this. I've been doing it while she's asleep because she forgets to, but then gets mad at me for doing it because she "just did".

Another Pattern

"I don't drink much, but I learned from my father to drink a little before bed, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that, because I never drink much, and there's nothing wrong with that." (Always a run-on sentence when she's feeling defensive. SHE brings this topic up, not me.)
"I know, Grandma."
"And I only drink this much." Fingers out about 1 inch apart. (Right.)
"Uh-huh."
"And I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I learned that from my father. He was told by a doctor to drink wine before bed, and so I learned to drink wine to put me to sleep from my father."
"Ok, Grandma."

We have had this conversation, verbatim, about 9 times in the last 4 days. I have never said a word about her drinking, although it is excessive. I found one of the enormous wine jugs this morning and dumped all but half a glass out... She complained last night that she didn't fall asleep from the wine she drank (an entire bottle). Probably because it was half water, courtesy of me.

A Pattern

When she gets mad at me, she starts complimenting me and talking in a slightly raised tone.

"Grandma, be sure to take a shower, ok?"
"I did! I don't need one!"
"Yes, you do. Please take a shower."
"I do? Do I smell?"
"Yes. Please take a shower."
"But I don't need to. I live alone and often don't bathe for days because it doesn't matter."
"Please take a shower." (firmly)
"AREN'T YOU THE SWEETEST LITTLE GRANDDAUGHTER I HAVE? YOU'RE SO PRETTY AND SO TALENTED AND I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE HERE!"
"Sure."

Rough Day So Far

All was well this morning. She didn't sleep last night, but we're going to try something different and hopefully we'll nail this insomnia thing.

Around noon, M came over to take her to get her glasses. I offered to take her to lunch and pick up the glasses. M went back to work.

Grandma got ready to go, and put on a fairly nice outfit. We got in the car and I headed for Walmart. I said, "Where do you want to go for lunch?"

"Lunch?? We're not going to M and M's for Thanksgiving?"
(confusion, bewilderment - from both of us)
"No...You and I are going to pick up your glasses and go to lunch."
"What glasses?"
"Your glasses are ready."
"So why did I get all dressed up? Where are we going for dinner? Why aren't we going to M and M's? It's Thanksgiving!"
"It's not Thanksgiving, it's July. You and I are going to eat lunch together." I'm trying my best to sound chipper. I'm trying really hard.
"But....why did I put these clothes on?"
"I'm not sure, but where would you like to eat?"
"I'll eat anything."
[Later]
"Why did I think today was some kind of celebration?"
"Well....it is B's birthday. Is that what you were thinking of?"
"No....but we can celebrate that."
"Ok."

Honestly, that tore my heart out.

Medical Mystery

I changed out her coffee for decaf, and hid her box of soda, hoping that will help with sleep. Good thing, because tonight she made a pot of coffee before bed.

Grandma, won't that keep you up?
Nope, never does.
But it's caffeine.
That's all in your head. You're imagining that.
No, it's a chemical that keeps you awake.
Doesn't do anything to me.

Maybe the Pepsi she's drinking won't, either. (sarcasm)

Notables

Where were you born?
Phoenix.
Really?
Yep.
Where were your brothers born?
Phoenix.
Why?
I guess that's where it happened.
Where do your parents live?
Oklahoma.
Why?
They moved there.
My whole family lived there.
When were you there last?
(shrugs)
You were there for my mom's surgery.
Oh yeah.


Is B your cousin? (My uncle)
Yes. (running out of steam)


You are married?
Yes.
Where is he?
Colorado.
Is he teaching at the university?
No.
What is he doing?
Building computers.
Why can't remember that?
(shrug)
Was I at your wedding?
Yep.
You sure are happy.
I sure am.
Why are you here?
Work.
Will you stay with me?
Yep.
My house can be your....your....airport.
Sounds good to me.

Your husband sure is handsome. Quietly handsome. I don't know if you think he's quietly handsome, but I do.


Grandma, please take your pills.
I did.
No, these are Thursday's pills. Today is Thursday.
I already took them.
No, you did not.
Yes I did!
TAKE THEM.
I'm going to smack you.
Bring it. But take those.
Ok. You and your dang pills.

Strike Two

She didn't sleep last night on the new stuff. Arg.

A Note

I was in the office working, and I heard her talking. I thought maybe she was talking in her sleep. But then it went on. I stood around the corner and listened. She was crying. I went in and sat at her feet.

"I was just thinking about Dale. He could sing! He sang opera, and I was just thinking how I wish people could hear him sing, but then I thought no one would know his songs, because no one listens to opera." I smiled and rubbed her leg.

"Does anyone else in my family sing? Does B?" I nodded (she doesn't have her hearing aids in and I'm tired of yelling).

"S plays the piano, I think. I sing a little. I sing alto, but I'm just so-so."

I just smiled, patted her leg, kissed her forehead, and went back to work. I wonder if she does that often? Sits on the couch and cries alone. It made me sad.

Seroquel

She was prescribed Seroquel to help her sleep at night. I gave her one at about 8:30 last night (pharmacist said to do it when the sun goes down), and by 9:00, she hit the couch. Sweet! I thought. Maybe she will actually sleep tonight.

At about midnight, I heard her get up and use the restroom, and when I went to check on her, she'd put her night clothes on and tucked herself into bed. Konked out snoring. Excellent.

I got up at 8:00 and found part of a cork in the sink, and the bottle opener with the rest of the cork nearby. Uh-oh. I went on a Wine Hunt and found a bottle in the fridge. Where she got that bottle, I do not know. Amazing that she can't remember what year it is, but remembers where she stashes her wine (which I have YET to find).

She's not supposed to be drinking at all, but especially not since she's on a sleeping med. I dumped out about half the bottle and put it back in the fridge. Maybe the alcohol will rinse down the gobs of funk I put down the drain yesterday.

It's 11:00 am and she's still sleeping. 14 hours and counting. I can hear her snoring in the next room, so I know she's getting some much-needed sleep.

Update: she slept until 12:30pm. Doc's going to give her something else. I found a large, empty wine bottle in her bathroom (different than the one that had been opened). Neat.

Notes

She's having trouble remembering words tonight, but can describe them. Rice, spaghetti, normal words.

She didn't know who the president is, and asked what year it was. She was surprised it was 2009 already.

She talked Tom, her brother. Warmed my heart to hear them talking.

She did not feed the dogs tonight. (I did, they said thank you.) This is usually one of her sticking points when she's arguing that she doesn't have Alzheimer's.

She also didn't shower today, but she did yesterday. She will tomorrow (because I'll see to it if she doesn't do it herself).

Little Things

She whacked her arm on the counter about an hour ago and it bled a lot. She put alcohol on it, but no bandage.

Just now, she looked down at her shirt and saw blood. I said, "Graham, you're still bleeding."
"Why am I bleeding? How did I do that?"

Am I supposed to time her lapses? An hour tonight.

Also couldn't figure out what a sound was and was somewhat upset by it: the oven timer.

Do You Like Grilled Cheese?

We drove to the post office, which took us near ASU.

"I love living here. I love the college."
"Yeah, they have cute shops."
"I love this town and I will never live anywhere else. I AM NOT GOING TO OKLAHOMA. I know if I go to Oklahoma, even for a visit, my kids will sell all my possessions and my house. And I'm pretty sure they'll put me in a home."
"That is not true, Grandma."
"Oh, so you've talked to them about this??"
"No, I just know your children love you and would never do that."
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do."
"Well I am not moving. Never, ever."
"Do you like grilled cheese?"
"I'll eat anything."

Yesterday's Funny

We were talking about getting B something for her birthday.

"I don't have any money!" Grandma said.
"M gave you money."
(loud, overly dramatic gasp)
"LET'S GO GET DRUNK! WE'LL JUST GET HER A CARD AND DRINK THE REST!!!!"

Night Time

I woke up at about 5:30 because I was stifling hot, and because Grandma was doing something noisy. She hadn't been to bed yet. She didn't see me.

Because she broke the wine bottle, she'd said she was going to drink Pepsi. I said not to, she did anyway, so she didn't sleep. I went back to bed.

I woke up at about 8:00 and there was a note under my door:

"Libby, I never went to sleep! Alcohol didn't help! I think I'll drown myself. I love you!"

I went looking for Grandma and she was in the kitchen, confused by the coffee maker. I asked her how she slept. "Fine!" she said. I remade the pot of coffee that was full of grounds.

I turned on the air. The heat was on 85. Oy.

The Phrase That Pays

M learned a new term at the doc visit today: Therapeutic Fibbing.

Lately, it's all I do.

Living With Grandma, Day 1

Today was both a whirlwind and uneventful.

I got here as Grandma and M were headed to the Alzheimer's appointment*. After they left, I cleaned out the fridge and set up my office. I needed a few things, so I went to Target.

I got home from Target and Grandma was here alone. The cleaning crew called, but Grandma answered, and I picked up the other phone to listen:

"Hi, this is C, I'm on my way over to clean your house."
"Don't come! Don't come today! I have family in from Oklahoma and it just won't work. Come next week!"
"Uhm, ok, I..."
"Will this bother your finances?"
"No, no, it's ok."
(Me, quietly:) "Please come. It's ok." (She didn't hear me over Grandma's continued protesting.)
"Just come next week. Or next month."
"OK."

M called C back and said to come. Grandma was so set on their not coming, I didn't know what to do. "Catastrophic reactions" is a term I learned recently in relation to Alzheimer's. Not something I want to experience.

M suggested nap time, so I started rubbing my eyes and acting sleepy. I said, "Graham, I'm tired. Let's take naps."
"Oh good! I wanted to lie down too. I'll lay down in the main room." This is the room the cleaning crew would come to first. Drat.

I met them in the driveway and told them, "She really doesn't want you here, but just do your thing no matter what she says, please."

They walked in and Grandma said, "I told you not to come!!"
"They were in the neighborhood, Graham."
"Oh. But I don't want them to clean."
"They're here to clean." (Aside to the lady, "I sure wouldn't complain if you showed up to clean my house!")
"OK, then."

They came, they cleaned, they conquered. All that effort for a house cleaning. Sheesh. She followed them around, bossing and directing. They would make eye contact with me, I'd nod, and they'd do whatever anyway. They mentioned they've noticed her decline, too, and are glad she won't be living alone anymore. Both have parents with a memory condition, so they recognized the signs. She's also been giving them things (like a mixer and boxes of soda). It makes them uncomfortable to take it, but she gets angry with them if they don't take it. She gave them a box of soda today, but left it behind, and tonight, Grandma was very upset that they hadn't taken it.

So that happened. We went to the grocery store, which is a whole 'nuther adventure I'll just sum up as, again, eventful and uneventful all at once.

We came home, she napped and I went running (BOY did I RUN). I made dinner, and all was well. Except her yelling at me over the Bachelorette. She has no idea what kind of dangerous ground she was on by doing that. ;) I found a new wine jug under the stove (the gallon-sized kind). Where did she get that??

Then Whirlwind II. Grandma went off to the bathroom and while she was in there, Tiger, the dog, had a seizure. My mom's dog does this too, except Tiger, when he was finished seizing, couldn't walk. I watched him struggle to stand, struggle harder to walk, and then fall over about 4 times on his way outside. Then I watched him outside, looking for a "spot", struggle to walk and stand and squat. Poor fellow. I also saw a roach the size of a skateboard on the back porch. Awe. Some.

Grandma came back from the bathroom and I told her what had happened. She burst into tears and said, "I'll have to put him down!!" I said we should call M tomorrow and tell him what happened. She said, "I think he has a friend who can come to the house so we can just bury him in the backyard..."

This is a Godsend. Part of this whole ordeal is sending two of her three dogs to see Jesus. I was really having a hard time with Tiger, as he seemed perfectly healthy. So this situation convinced Grandma and me that it's time for Tiger to see Jesus.

But wait! There's more!

I heard a crash. I ignored it. Things break, oh well. Then Grandma came into the kitchen with part of a broken wine bottle, and all the little pieces in her other hand. Oh sh*t. We carefully wrapped the broken bottle in about 10 plastic bags, and I checked her hands for shards. Then I asked her where she was standing when it broke, so I could check for glass (and maybe find her secret alcohol stash). "I was standing right here by the refrigerator." No, it was down the hall somewhere. After some talking, she told me the bathroom.

Glass shards. On the floor. Grandma is often bare-footed.

She. Cannot. Live. Alone. Anymore.

As I was digging out the vacuum, I heard her call Sandy, Everyone's Favorite Neighbor, to ask for her divine wisdom about Tiger. I heard her invite her over for coffee in the morning to "meet my granddaughter." I surmised from Grandma's response that Sandy wisely declined. I am not ready to face that woman, especially not first thing in the morning.

I vacuumed up the shards, and then Grandma wanted to know if I'd been in her house before, and if I'd ever seen her backyard. She also said she hasn't talked to B (her daughter) in awhile, although they've talked several times over the last few days (nights). She's also brought up M (my husband) many, many times today, saying how handsome he is. This is after we started the day with her asking if I was married yet.

She's also started saying "I know I've asked you that before" after everything she asks, even if it's the first time.

A completely non-descript, yet eventful day.

*M will report the official word to the masses when he's ready, but in a nutshell, she's a textbook case.

Gross, Grosser, and Most Grossest

Just cleaned out Grandma's fridge. Much grossness. I have decided the winner was the Bacon Ranch dressing, because a.) when I tried it a couple weeks ago, it made me gag, b.) it was 7 years old, and c.) the smell of it going down the sink made me gag again. Double gag factor won over the 5-year-old mayo, the 12-year-old horseradish sauce (which was hard) and the four bottles of unknown content and origin.

Also cleaned out the cabinets for take out containers, trash, and more take out containers, and then more trash. I don't remember her ever being one of those post-depression, wash-the-foil-and-use-it-again sorts, but she seems to have a fear of throwing things away.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Driving

Today, M told me about a call he got from G yesterday. I hope I tell this correctly.

She called to say she'd been to a doctor. When quizzed, she didn't know which doctor or how she'd gotten there. But she'd been to a doctor who said she can drive (this is a common story from Grandma). This time, she wanted to be sure, so she'd gone to her General Practitioner. But he said she'd better not drive, so she's decided not to drive.

Hm.

Beautiful & Heartbreaking Video On Alz

Notes From The Therapist

One of the common mistakes made by people caring for Alzheimer's patients is trying to prove to the patient that they have Alzheimer's. Presenting evidence, using logic, and arguing will not work. If they don't see it, they don't see it. You have to live in their reality, and go with whatever they think is true and whatever they can handle believing.

Agree with her as much as possible. Don't aggravate or frustrate her. Try to give as much positive affirmation as possible and help her feel validated. "I take care of myself!" "Yes, Graham, I noticed you fed the dogs this morning," and then change the subject to something she can talk about comfortably, such as the past.

Also, recognize her feelings. "I hear your frustration." "I see that you're angry." "That must be scary to you." She needs to feel like her feelings are being heard.

These are both ideas to keep her a tiny bit more cooperative, hopefully. The more frustrated she gets, the more we argue with her, the more we try to convince her she's wrong, the harder this transition will be. Keep her as happy as possible.

How You Like Them Apples?

So I've been in NY for the last week, and the other night was having dinner with friends. My cell phone rang during dinner, and I normally wouldn't answer (how RUDE), except it was Grandma.

"Hi Grandma."
"Hi Libby! How are you?"
"I'm good. What's going on?" (The girls at the table are looking at me quizzically.)
"Libby, will you please tell me your mom and dad's phone number?"
"Sure Grandma, it's 111-111-1111."
"Oh thank you! And while I have you on the phone, what's your number, sweet girl?" (facial expression)
"It's 111-111-1111."
"Oh thank you! Well, I'm doing really well, Libby. I have my house, and my three big dogs and I have my car and I can go anywhere I want whenever I want and I'm really, really happy! I am NOT going to Oklahoma."
"OK, Grandma. I'm glad you're happy."
"Well, call me sometime, Sweetheart! We never talk anymore!"
"OK, I will, Grandma. I love you!"
"I love you too. Bye bye."

Grandma writes down phone numbers all the time. Scraps of paper litter her kitchen with phone numbers she's written over and over and over again. $20 says my parents' 15-year-old number is on about 47 little scraps of paper very near her phone. Now, how she got my 4-month-old cell phone number is a mystery.

She seems to have forgotten I was just there a week ago, and that I will be back in a few days.

That night, she called my parents no less than 9 times. They answered the first two, but the last 7, which went up until 4 a.m., weren't answered because the phone was unplugged.

Oy vey.

Apologies

M reminded Grandma of what she said to me the other night, and she apologized. People can tell you "it's the Alzheimer's talking -- don't take it to heart", but you do. A little piece of you shrivels up like a little raisin and it hurts. To hear that she apologized and said she didn't mean it really means a lot to me.

I wonder how much longer we'll have the opportunity to talk to her like this. Will she continue to be mean? Will she finally accept what's happening? If she does continue to be mean, how much longer will we be able to sit her down after the fact and hear an apology?

Prayers:
1. That she'll stop being mean.
2. That she'll find some way to accept this. She's grieving and angry, but I do hope she'll move on to whatever's next emotionally.
3. Peace for the entire situation.
4. For more creative ways of dealing with her.

No Bienvenidos, No Money

This is a long one. Pop some corn.

It's been an interesting night. Graham went to the dentist today - so glad that tooth is out and hopefully taken care of. We were at M&M's for dinner, and all was well. She was her usual self, no biggie.

Then we got in the car to go home. I asked her if I could borrow a suitcase for my trip tomorrow, and leave my smaller one with her. She said, sure, I can mail you your suitcase. I said, you don't need to - I'll come get it next week when I'm here.

That's when it started.

"Why are you coming?"
"To spend some time with you."
"Why are you really coming? There's more to it than that. What's behind this?"
(I'm shocked at her intuition.)
"I just want to spend some time with you, Grandma."
"I think there's more to it. Why are you coming?"
(Nervous.)
"To help you remember some things."
"You tell me what I'm not remembering. I remember everything. I feed my dogs, I clean my house. What am I not remembering?" (Very defensive, starting to heat up.)
"Well, you don't shower very often, you don't take your meds, you don't do laundry, and you do NOT clean your own house."

I don't remember the exact wording of a chunk of it. Just a bunch of defensiveness and irrational reasoning. There was no logic. And it's just not true. I've been here four? Five days? And she just showered this morning. When I hugged her goodnight last night, I nearly gagged at the smell of unshoweredness. I'm not saying this to be mean: I'm saying this to illustrate that I am not making this up. But the larger point is I never should have gone there.

Part of me was hoping she would just forget and move on (the beauty of Alzheimer's - you get do-overs and I'm certain that's the grace of God when you're with someone who has it), but she didn't.

"You need to just go on with your life. You are not welcome to come over if that's why you're coming."
"Grandma, I care about you and would feel like I was doing something very wrong if I didn't take care of you."
"Do not come for that reason. Move on with your life."
"You took care of me when I was in the hospital. You would do the same thing for me, right?"
"Yes, I would."
[more conversation]
"You need to know that I have a personal life and I love my life, so if you're going to stay with me, you may not tell M & M and B & S everything. Don't go writing everything down for them."
(I'll admit, this part scared me. How did she know?)
"OK, Graham. No problem."
(Silence. Her contemplating, me fuming.)
"Sometimes it takes me awhile to come around to things. I know you love me."
"I love you too much to let you get away with this."
"I know you do, honey."

But the damage was done. It hurt a lot to hear all that. I know, I know, I can't expect her to do the Dance of Joy at the idea that she's not taking care of herself and someone else has to come in to do it. But I didn't expect the meanness. Grandma's never, ever been mean before.

I called M. He's dealt with this over and over the last two years and has been bitched out by her over and over and I'm sure he's felt even worse than this. He's told her the truth and been ripped to shreds. I read some advice somewhere that says to be honest with Alzheimer's patients. Gently, but honest. BS. You haven't met this patient. [Sorry, I meant a Person With Alzheimer's. I was schooled by M today on how to be person-centered in my language (a class she had to take - we chuckled). Pretty sure shuffling the words around are not going to have an impact on her acceptance of this issue. But I digress... I mean, I am a Person With Digression.]

M told me to lie. Lie, lie, lie. Here's why you're here, here's why you're staying with her, none of it Alzheimer's-related. OK. I can do that. Makes me feel a little bit like an undercover cop, and a lot bit like a Big Fat Liar. I told him I usually feel it's better to be honest and deal with whatever hits the fan than to lie and have to deal with the lie and what's on the fan. Not in this case. I have to lie. I absolutely have to lie my butt off. Tell her what she wants to hear, and then do the right thing anyway. The part of my stomach that knots itself when I'm doing something wrong is just going to have to cool it for awhile. There's no other way around it.

I told M that it seems that no matter what, she has an undercurrent of suspicion. Tonight, she was frighteningly cognizant. All hands on deck, all the lights on, everything was there. She was even perceptive. Rational, no. But even when she's in the middle of a an Alz hiccup, she still has this undercurrent of suspicion. I think she knows, deep in her core, something just isn't right. But I think she's far too stubborn to ever, ever admit that.

So here's something relatively amusing:

Her stomach's been sour the last two nights, and last night she took the last of her antacids. I told her I'd drive her to the store to get more. (I needed some seltzer anyway because of the knots in my stomach.) We were on the way to the store and she decided she would use her VIP Points grocery card to pay for it. I had cash on me, so I wasn't worried. "OK Grandma."

We got to the store and she bee-lined it for the wine. I didn't say anything, and headed for the seltzer while she went for the Pepcid. I found her in the meds aisle and she said, "We're not using any of your money. I am paying for all this tonight."

"But Grandma, you don't have any cash on you." (I know, I'm trying to rationalize with her. Not going to work.)
"I'll use my debit card."
"I thought you lost it." She pulled all the cards out of her purse (which she miraculously found) and found the VIP Points grocery card.
"I'll talk to them about this."
"I have cash. I'll just take care of it. But I don't have much cash, so we'll have to put the wine back."
"Oh, ok. I understand, honey. I still want to talk to them about my VIP card."
"OK Grandma."

This all happened in under two minutes:
We got to the self-checkout and I quickly scanned the Pepcid and seltzer. I had Grandma scan her card, which she turned and handed to the girl at the desk. I turned around, paid, and grabbed the receipt, and Grandma grabbed the Pepcid and seltzer to show the girl with her card. Behind her back, I held up the receipt and mouthed, "we've got it." The girl half-nodded and half-smiled. Grandma was asking her about using the VIP card to pay. I handed Grandma the receipt and said, "Look! She took care of us! How nice!" To which Grandma gushed all over the poor girl about how sweet she was and thank you so much for helping us! I smiled at the girl and mouthed, "thanks." She half-nodded, clearly confused.

Pretty sure that's 007-points-worthy.

In the car on the way home, she said, "wasn't it so sweet for that girl to help us?? It's so late at night and she was willing to help us out. She's so sweet!"

Yep. So sweet. For lip-reading and playing along. She gets 007 points too.

liquor + pain

Last night was a little sad. Grandma's tooth is horribly painful - to the point where she was crying/praying in agony. I told her she could either have a drink or a Vicodin for the pain. She said she wanted to be wise, so she'll take the wine. (Personally, I'd take the drugs, but that's just me.) I had the Vicodin in my purse next to my bed, so I felt safe going to my room and turning in for the night.

She started yelling for me about 30 mins later. I'll admit, I ignored it for about 5 mins. She's done this before, and she just wants me to know where the towels are, or that I can turn on the fan, or do I want more pillows? I was hoping she'd think I was asleep. But she kept yelling so I went to find her.

I found her in the bathroom on the toilet (drawers up, just sitting for a place to sit) and bawling. Tears streaming down her face. She said that normally alcohol takes away all her pain and puts her to sleep (!), but tonight she'd been drinking and it wasn't working. The pain was shooting down her neck to her collarbone (damn tooth!). I went for a cold pack in the freezer, praying for wisdom. She'd been drinking, so I was really hesitant to give her a Vicodin. But with all her yelling, I had to do something.

I put the cold pack on her jaw, put her to bed, and googled Vicodin + alcohol, to see what the level of risk was. It said that if you have 3+ drinks per day, you might not be allowed to take Vicodin (acetaminophen) because of liver damage risks. Oy. But she was yelling in the next room.

I went into the kitchen to inventory the alcohol left. She had more of that mint liquor (sick), but everything else appeared to be in tact. I decided she could have half a Vicodin, given that much alcohol, and knowing she would continue drinking after I went to bed later. For HER sake, I wish she could have had two of them, but I couldn't live with myself if she somehow damaged her internal organs for the sake of a night of sleep for me. This is so hard.

I gave her the half Vicodin. She went to sleep very soon thereafter. I'm up this morning and the same amount of alcohol is here. Praise God. I was hoping the Vicodin would help her pass out.

That was at about midnight and now it's about 11am and she's still asleep. I keep checking on her and she's snoring. The pain must be intense. Poor girl.

Liquor

Last night, well after she'd had her pain pill and I'd hidden the rest, I opened the bottle of Pinot Noir I bought. I poured a little tiny bit into two glasses and gave Graham one. We were sitting in front of a movie.

She got up and poured herself another full glass (dinner glass, not wine glass), and then another. She then turned to me and said, "I really don't like this wine."

"Well good thing it's mine, then."
"Oh, I thought it was for everyone!"
"It is, but I picked it out."
"Well I don't like it."
"Then stop drinking it."

She then poured herself half a glass of that mint liquor (see previous post). And then another half glass. Oy. So that's two large glasses of wine and two glasses of liquor.

I went to my room to go to sleep. She came into the room and said, "What are you doing here?? I saw the light on and wondered - you're here!!" And then went into her speeches about where sheets are, towels are, and how I should make myself at home. "Thanks, Grandma."

A bit later, same thing.

A bit later, she came in to tell me she wouldn't be coming in anymore and I could go to sleep.

A bit later, she came in again and said she needed more wine because she couldn't sleep.

I got up this morning and my Pinot Noir was gone and half the mint liquor was gone. So that's an entire bottle of wine (except the 5 oz I had) and half a bottle of liquor. In one night. Thank GOD I took away the pain pills.

Notes

"Libby, I just don't EVER cuss except, well... all the time."

This is true.

"Libby, open the glove box."
"No, we need to get going." (There's stuff in there she can't have.)
"OPEN THE GLOVE BOX, DAMMIT."
"OK."

Note to self: grow a pair.

Why She Can't Live Alone

This is why she can't live alone:

"Grandma, you cannot have liquor. You just took a pain pill."
"I did?"
"Yes."
"Oh, ok."

[I turned around to my laptop to write this. I turned back around.]

"Grandma! What are you doing???"
[Has old dog food can in her hand and is pouring liquor into it.]
"You CANNOT have that."
"Why?"
"You just took a pain pill."
"Oh, let me pour it back."
"No, that's disgusting."
"It is not, I just rinsed it out."
"It's a dog food can, yes it is. You may NOT pour that back into the bottle."
"It's good and expensive and I don't want to waste it." (It's $5. The double bottle of crappy wine was more.)
[I take the liquor bottle and put the cap on and hold it away from her. She walks to the fridge with the dog food can, and puts it in.]
"Libby, where is it?! I don't want to waste it!" [She's still standing IN the fridge, less than 5 seconds have gone by.]
"In the fridge, Graham."
"Where is it?? Did you dump it???"
"No, right in the fridge, where you put it."
"Oh. You know, Libby, I have never had restrictions on my drinking until you came around."
"Get used to it."

Oy vey. And I spent the day wondering if we were doing the right thing and praying that God would show me what I need to see (either for or against moving her). Dude. As much liquor as she was about to ingest, with those pills handy (she wanted to take TWO), and her forgetting that she JUST took one, OH GOOD LORD. This is, I believe, "sundowning." She was playing with a full deck until about an hour ago. Totally spot on, memories in tact. And now she's trying to drink about 8oz. of mint liquor from a dog food can after her pain pill. Fantastic.

And now she's joyfully drinking milk out of the carton.

Notes

I guess I thought it would be a little more cut-and-dry than this. She's remembering things she didn't used to remember (I told her I flew in from Denver, 20 mins later, she said, you live in Denver, right? Last time I was here, she couldn't remember it at all, the whole time I was here.), she's not remembering things Mark told her 5 mins ago (what's happening at 2:00?).

I thought it would be more obvious. Sometimes, it's painfully obvious. She's going to hurt herself without help. Other times, it's like she's the same person and the idea of making her leave her home of 40 years is devastating and sends my anxiety through the roof and tears to my eyes.

This is going to suck. A lot.

"My brothers were allergic to cow milk, so we had to get goats. Drinking that milk takes some getting used to."

"You have keys? I want to copy them. Where did you get my keys? Give those back to me."