Questions from outer space

Whoa.

She's got a few doozies tonight too...

"Where is LeeAnn?"

Where do you think she is?

"At the movies."

Uh, ok. No, she's at home.

"When are we going back to Allentown?"

Uh oh. We are IN Allentown. Where do you think we are?

"I don't know."

Home in the living room.

"Oh."

She asked me at least 5 times when LeeAnn is coming home. And, 3 or 4 times when we were going to go to Allentown.

Seriously flaked out tonight.

The Questions of the Week

Mama's still not quite with it this week. I'm not sure if it's still from Aunt Edith, of if she's just having a bad few days. I got these questions from her over the last few days...

"Do I usually sleep downstairs?"

She ALWAYS sleeps downstairs and has for about 8 months.... maybe longer.

"Is Papa's car in the garage? I can't find him."

Papa's been dead for over 2 years.

"Do I have any underwear?"

Well, yes. Since she's become too lazy to go and PEE if she's wearing diapers, we are trying to get her to wear her underwear and 'pee-pads.' It works some days. Not others. Apparently she decided that the bag that the pads are in is garbage and put her used diapers in it. Lovely.

"Have you seen my Reader's Digests?"

Yes, they are on the table. The same place they were the last 5(!!!!) times you asked in the last 20 minutes.

"Is this a movie?"

She asked that while we were watching CSI. You know, the show we watch about 10 times a week. No shit, at least 10 times.

"What day is it?"

Friday. Ok, well, she asks that EVERY day.

"Does Debbie come today?"

No.

"Does anybody come?"

Oh. My. God.

Today she told me that Darlene called and said she'd be here at 4. That's a bit later than usual, but it's cool. Then she told me that Darlene NEVER came. Which is wrong, since I got a brand new note from her about not having any bread left.

She also told me that since it's getting warm she could wear her shorts. But she didn't think she had any.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Where have all the conversations gone?

Monday evening mama seems to have calmed down a bit from the weekend insanity. When I got home around 8 she was sitting on the bed watching The Andy Griffith Show. I don't think I've ever seen her watch that, but she was enjoying it. A Good Thing. I asked how her day was and she said it was fine. She couldn't remember what made it 'fine' but it was 'fine' nonetheless. I had a few things to get started downloading on the PC so I told her I had to change and putter around for a few minutes then I'd get her some dinner (since we went to Pizza Hut for Pizza Stuffa-You-Face-Buffet.)

When I got down she said she was pretty hungry because she hadn't eaten in a "long time or maybe not at all." Now, I'm usually pretty sure that "not at all" isn't reality because that's why we have nursemaids. But, she says weirder things and I just sort of dismissed it. TV diners are a grand thing and she got to have Chicken-Fried-Chicken and said it was "wonderful." All it needed was a little salt. Yes, she salts TV diners. I'm pretty sure her tastebuds have gone on permanent vacation, but shit, she's 83, who cares. She's got a salt shaker that lives on the tray table by her chair and god forbid someone takes it to the kitchen.

We watched a bit of TV - "2 1/2 Men" which is funny as shit. And I went up to take a shower between it and "CSI: Miami" which I find sort of... incredibly overacted, but there are always hot women in low cut blouses and I'm a sucker for boobies. While we were watching something mama asks (yes in the middle of the show, not like I'm not watching, could she wait for the commercial? noooooo. Even when she waits for the commercial, she just continues to babble after the show starts back up. At least this time she didn't ask if we'd ever seen it before.)

"Have you talked to LeeAnn lately?"

"Yep, I talked to her today."

"How's she doing."

"She's fine."

"I need to call her, I haven't talked to her in a long time."

ah, yeah, wait. It's been 2 entire days. This time I didn't even say a thing. I just agreed and left it there.

A few minutes after the LeeAnn conversation she asked if it was still raining.

"Yep, still raining." yeah, we got like 5".

"I was going to plant some flowers today, but it was too ugly outside."

"You were going to what?"

"Plant flowers."

"Where?"

"Along the side of the house where I put them last year."

"You planted?"

"I think I did."

"Well, no I planted the flowers and I put them in pots on the front porch."

"I want to have more this year too."

"And where are these plants that you were going to go outside and plant BY YOURSELF?"

"Oh, I guess we'll have to buy some and we can plant them outside like last year."

"Yeah, but last year they were in pots on the front porch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, because I planted them."

"Oh. Maybe I can go out and get some flowers and plant them. But not now, it's too rainy."

didn't we have that part of the conversation already?

"Yeah sure, we'll get some."

"Is it raining?"

Wheeeee, this keeps going around and around and around.

After CSI I went to get her evening pills (HAPPY PILLS YAY!) and eye drops. But wait, there's her cup of pills that she was supposed to take this morning. I no longer give them to her in the morning, Debbie does when she gets here for lunch to BE ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that mama EATS A REAL MEAL. Hmm...

"Was Debbie here today?"

"I don't know."

"Well, your pills are still in the cabinet."

"Oh yes, she called and said she wasn't coming because it was too windy."

"Too windy? ummm ok. Did she tell you to take your pills?"

"I don't know."

At this point I realized that it was entirely possible that she hadn't actually eaten lunch. But, there was a dirty plate. And there was cake missing.

But that was it. She had cake for lunch.

And jelly beans.

Every 3 year olds fantasy. Cake and jelly beans for lunch.

Low peaks

One of the downsides of being old and getting senile is that any kind of stress has a very strange effect. Although Mama seemed mostly ok about Aunt Edith's death, her behavior since Thursday has been erratic to say the least. She was pretty freaked out on Thursday and couldn't manage to call me but did get mom and Debbie. She was convinced that either mom or I would be making arrangements and that "Papa would want to call people." Since papa has been dead for over 2 years and is now in a cookie jar on my dresser, that'd be rather difficult. Thursday night when I got home, she didn't talk about it much other than to say that it was sad and that she didn't even know Edith was sick. And she seemed fine.

Friday was pretty uneventful other than she didn't know who came to take care of her and a few times she told me that nobody had come.... or maybe it was Debbie, or maybe not. That's not unusual.

I got up early on Saturday morning to drive to a gymnastics meet so we didn't chat much, but as usual, she didn't know what day it was and asked if someone was coming to "take care of" her. Asking that has just become a habit because when I say "someone comes..." she always knows the answer is "...every day." Most of the rest of Saturday afternoon went ok except that she was supposed to have a shower and she managed to talk the nurse out of it yet again. However, later in the evening things turned wild. Seems that she fell asleep sometime after the nurse went home. When that happens she often has very vivid dreams and thinks that they are real. The same thing used to happen to Grandma Mackes. It's happened when I was there and she says really odd things like "Papa isn't home yet, is he?" or wonders where her kids are. This time she called mom and sent mom into a tizzy. Mama thought that she had gone out and when she came home the lights were all on and that I MUST be home so she was going to search the house. She also mentioned looking outside for me. She's not supposed to go upstairs since she's not that steady anymore and she is NOT supposed to go outside because she's locked herself out once already. She had mom completely freaked out because there was zero connection between the few remaining logic cells in her brain and the "I have to do something" cells. Mom finally convinced her to call me, which she did, and I got her calmed down.... mostly. Apparently she was annoyed that I had gone to a meet and she was supposed to go along and I'd NEVER go without taking her if I'd promised I'd take her. Yeah, well, there was no promise. Even though we talk about it, she can't go anywhere for that long. She thinks it'll be fun, but she just wants to go home soon after she leaves and won't use a public bathroom. So, one can just imagine how interesting THAT can be. Besides looking upstairs, she was going to have to look outside for me, and maybe plant some flowers sometime, and I must be there because the lights were on when she got home from being out... or maybe she wasn't out.... but I must be there somewhere.

When I got home she was still pretty wacky and when I said that she had gotten mom all in a dither, her answer was to "never call LeeAnn again." But, she didn't like that idea because she "never talks to LeeAnn." I asked how long it had been since she had talked to mom and her answer was "months." It was 2 weeks, if you don't count Thursday. I tried to have a fairly rational conversation with her, but that was pointless. She wasn't really REALLY bad, but there wasn't much logic going on in there. She had no idea if anybody had come to take care of her and no idea if she'd had a shower and thought that she had gone somewhere... but didn't know where. First she told me she had hot dogs for dinner, then told me she had nothing. By the time I went to bed, she seemed to be pretty with it and was not telling me incredibly wild things anymore.

Sunday morning was a treat. I woke up to her yelling up the stairs for mom.

"LEEANN! Are you awake?"

Uh, hello!??! mom's not here.

She was convinced that mom was there. I'm not sure why and she wasn't either. She said she must have dreamed it. Again, she had no idea what day it was, if someone was coming, when they were coming, was it Debbie? Was I coming home to sleep? Did I have to go to Philadelphia? The rest of Sunday was ok, no phone calls from panicky mom or mama wondering where Papa was. When I got home Sunday I asked if she'd had her shower (which she'd PROMISED she'd have) and she said "no" she was going to have it tomorrow. That's what she does. She convinces the nurses that she'll have one "tomorrow" well tomorrow never comes! ARG! As SOON as I said that she was supposed to have it "TODAY!!!!!" she changed her story. I checked the bathroom and there were wet towels, so she did. But, jeez, can't even remember that. She made up all kinds of odd stories about taking a shower by herself and that all she needed was someone to turn on the water so she didn't burn herself. Because you know it's hard to turn on the water in the shower.

Once I'd calmed down about the shower and the lady who may or may not have been there and may or may not have been someone who may or may not have been there before and who may or may not have fed her, she was better.

For some reason I had a really hard time falling asleep last night. I'd doze off, then wake up 20 minutes later. I finally just turned on the TV and watched some of Planet Earth, which is outstanding. I guess I fell asleep around 4 and was woken up at 7AM!!!! by the TV turned to ear-splitting levels. I just pulled a pillow over my head and went back to sleep. Just before 8 I hear...

"TONY!"

"what?" mumbled into the pillow.

"TONY! WHERE ARE YOU?"

"in BED!!!!" screamed into the pillow.

Then I hear footsteps in the hall. Um, wait, she's not supposed to be upstairs. She's not steady enough, she KNOWS she's not supposed to come up the stairs....

So, I ask "what are you doing up here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"at 8am?"

"You are missing all the excitement."

"huh?" mumbled into the pillow.

"It's snowing."

Ok, it's NOT snowing, it's raining and sleeting mixed with a LITTLE snow. By the time I rolled over and looked out, it was just rain fer godsake.

"oh, how many thousand times do I have to tell you not to go up and down the stairs?"

"oh, I know, I'm going now."

I got to doze back to sleep til my normal 8:30 wakeup and when I went downstairs I asked why in the world she came up and WOKE ME UP TO TELL ME IT WAS SNOWING WHEN IT WASN"T REALLY?!?!?

No answer.

Then she asked if we were having breakfast together. Uh, no, I have to go to work. "Isn't it Saturday?" No, it's MONDAY! I HAVE TO GO TO WORK DAY!

and then, then, then, then, she asked why I seemed so annoyed.

I rolled my eyes, told her that she woke me up with the EXCESSIVELY LOUD TV SHOW WITH REGIS AND BECKYLEEKELLYWHATEVERTHEFUCKHERNAMEIS and then woke me up AGAIN by coming upstairs when she KNOWS she's not supposed to.

It just don't get any better.

And then I went to work where it's mostly sane and quiet.

Forget me not

While we had a rather nice evening watching The Sopranos, several conversations demonstrate Mama's memory issues and how... odd her memory can be.

She gets two checks a month from her investments, one is just the interest on the account and it usually comes at the beginning of the month. Like today. She told me she got it and knew EXACTLY how much it was for. She did however forget that she gets one every month and where it comes from. It's entertaining when she gets so excited about a check she gets all the time because it's new to her every month.

Her sense of what day it is seems to be completely gone. She asks me every day what day is it and sometimes has to ask what tomorrow will be. Tonight she remembered that tomorrow is Thursday and that Debbie comes. Not 10 minutes later she mentioned that I didn't have to get up early because tomorrow is Saturday.

"No," I said, "it's not. "

"Oh, then it's Friday."

"No. We just talked about this."

"Oh yes, it's Thursday."

"Does someone come for me tomorrow?"

"Yes, someone comes..." and I prompt her to say:

"Every day...." "Who comes tomorrow? Is it Alice?"

Sigh.

So, once we had the days aligned and the nursemaids all in a row, I turned on The Sopranos. We watched the first 15 minutes or so before the first commercial. When the commercial came on she turned to me and asked "have we watched this before?"

Oh. My. God.

"Yes, we watch it every week." We have watched it every week since they started showing it on A&E. It's been a good 2 months now.

"Oh, I don't remember it at all."

Last week on Wednesday when I said I needed to get a few things done early in the evening, she told me I needed to get done because The Sopranos were on at 9. How can she remember that one week and forget she's ever seen the show the next?

Trash Day

Tuesday night is trash pickup. So, when I got home tonight, I told Mama that I had to take out the trash and recycle. I got all the bags together and put by the light post in front. I did notice that someone from the apartments next door put a couch out in front of our house. Lovely. That'll be certain to generate a violation notice, and a phone call to the garbage people. Why the people who live in the apartments think that trash belongs in front of our house is beyond me.

Anyway, while I was putting a new trash bag in the can, Mama came out and...

"Is it trash night?"

"Well, yes, that's why I told you I was taking out the trash."

"Do you take out plastic bags."

"Just the bag, or full of trash?"

"Full of stuff I put in."

"Is it trash?"

"No."

"Why would I take out stuff that isn't trash?"

"It might be trash, but I forget what I put in it."

I have to check her 'trash' since once I found that about half the stuff she threw in the bag was her good knitting and sewing stuff.

Trash generates some funny stories around this place. A few years ago she informed me that she changed the garbage bag in the can because the other one "got dirty."

Dirty. A trash bag. Imagine that.

So, she took the dirty one out, put in a clean one and THREW AWAY THE DIRTY ONE.

A dirty trash bag, jeezus.

A fine Sunday morning in wonderland

I really slept in today and managed to stay in bed until 11:30. Nice long sleep. mmmm.

I heard the TV on around 9, so I knew she was up and about. I went down, fed the fishies, made comments about the fishies and how much we like the black one - a very cool looking cichlid. I asked Mama if she'd eaten and she said "yes, a little, not much." That meant she had a donut hole or maybe 2 or 3 coconut cookies. Ok, I'll make something that resembles breakfast. I got her pills out and put them on her table and told her that I was making something to eat. The old rule about not taking her pills on an empty stomach is still in effect, but... not in use. Erg. when I brought out her breakfast, the pills were gone. I just didn't say anything. I know she can't help it. Now I know, give her food, then give her pills.

So, while we are having breakfast, well, in this case, it was more like lunch -

her: hot dog and potato salad,

me: oatmeal! YAY! More oatmeal!

I turned on the weather channel to see what was up for the day. There was a commercial for these nifty gloves that peel potatoes and carrots and even APPLES! YES peeler gloves. About 1/2 way through the commercial Mama pipes up with this pearl.

"I don't like potatoes."

Then.

And then.

Yes, right then.

She took a fork-full of potato salad and ate it.

"Oh, then why do you ask me to get it for you every week?"

"That's because it's easy to make with a sandwich."

"But if you don't like it, I can get other things."

"I just like potato salad."

"What about potato chips?"

"And I like them too. I don't like most kinds of potatoes!"

"What about mashed potatoes?"

"Oh, I like those."

"So, you don't like potatoes except in salad, mashed, and chips?"

"I don't like French Fries."

"What about Tater-Tots."

"What are those?"

"The little nugget sort of things."

"Oh yes, I like those too."

Check yer sanity at the door, you won't need it in here.