Today marks the second anniversary of the day Mom broke her hip and life as we knew it came to a screeching halt. Oh it was slowing down considerably but I felt confident that we were managing life with Alzheimer’s pretty well (if there is such a thing). Mom was progressively showing decline in her activities, speech and walking but she still enjoyed her car rides,
going to lunch, trips to the mall, showing up at church and having company over for dinner. Certainly all those things were necessary for my quality of life too. As long as we did them together as a team, we knew we would both be OK. I will never forget that hot summer day (a Friday the 13th) when Mom got up from the sofa to get a glass of juice and tripped. She lay on the floor in pain and said “Call doctor” as we were on the phone dialing 911.
When Mom became housebound, so did I. She’s receives wonderful care from two nurses aides that come for two hours, six days a week. Without Betsy and Carla, I couldn’t get out to buy groceries or go to the post office. Of course, there’s more to life than buying produce or mailing a package and that’s where the frustration sets in. I fortunately now have a network of people I can bring in when I want to go out to lunch or an appointment— but the $$ add up and I always feel like I’m in a race against the clock to get back home.
On days when I feel like a shut-in I remind myself how I used to need eyes in the back of my head to keep up with my “giant toddler” and now I always know she’s safely in her wheelchair or in her bed. I tell myself: “Take peace in knowing she can’t fall again”. Because she’s happy and content to be home at least I feel like I’m doing the right thing as my own life and circle of friends continues to shrink. You need to pack a lot of love in your baggage to make it on this long journey. Fortunately I have enough of that to get me through.
This past week, my brother came home to visit for his birthday and got Mom to do some physical therapy with her good hand. Her left hand has already become so contracted that she can’t hold anything. Bill used her favorite toy that she used to call “Boy”. (Boy was in Charla’s Dog’s one of her “Stackings” seen in several galleries). This is a photo of her exercising her arm with her most cherished stuffed animal.
