”If you can’t laugh at it, learn from it.” I don’t know to whom I should attribute this. But I say it a lot.
A particularly bad visit with my mother left me in tears but still able to laugh. She is utterly helpless - bedridden for over a year, and unable to do anything for herself. Until she’s angry enough.
A PSW presented my mother with her meal too slowly, so my mother snapped that she could have prepared AND eaten the food in that amount of time. I softly told the PSW to set down the tray and hand my mother the spoon. Imagine the PSW’s shock when she fed herself! My mother was so angry she suddenly recognized me and called me by name.
I’ve read similar experiences from others.
What abilities come and go with your loved one’s mood?
Oh, so true! A sense of humor does save us from totally falling apart when dealing with cruel people.
My husband’s grandmother was truly a miserable woman. The stories that I could tell! Seriously, we would often laugh at the sheer nonsense!
Very often, I called her foolishness, “free entertainment!” LOL 😆
Was she hateful? Indeed, she was! Most likely, she suffered from an undiagnosed mental illness.
I doubt if much of what she said was true. I would comment to my husband, “Fact or fiction?” He felt the same way. One never knew what was real and what was total BS!
The nurse asked her, "Who is that standing by the window?"
MIL looked at me with a raised eyebrow and pure derision. "Who is that", she mocked the nurse, "that's nobody".
The nurse started sputtering and I said something like, "no worries, THAT is my MIL".
I stopped visiting my godmother in the nursing home when she no longer knew who I was. She seemed to be agitated by company. So, I felt like there wasn’t any point in going to see her any longer.
She was annoyed with my visit and I became depressed seeing her in her condition.
I did call the staff to check on her and I do place flowers on her grave when I go to the cemetery. Her grave is in the same cemetery as my parents and many other relatives.
You know it's funny, because of our history, I always told myself I would not be the one to care for MIL. By the time her vascular dementia was diagnosed, she only had 17 months left (doctor said about 18 months, she didn't make 18).
Her whole personality changed into this sweet loving old lady - something she had never been in real life. She even introduced herself by a different name.
She was quite helpless, there was no way around it. I didn't have a problem overseeing her care and I visited her twice a week on my own and on Sundays with my husband until she passed. I think it was nice that she thought I was her sister visiting her regularly.
We haven't visited their graves since we buried their ashes.
You had to stop visiting your godmother, it was the right decision for you and didn't change anything for her. This end of life stuff is difficult.
Years ago, sorry for not remembering the author’s name or book title. This book was about a granddaughter who was caught in the crossfire between her mother and grandmother. Her grandmother was always kind to her and evil to her mother.
It was a very difficult childhood for the granddaughter. She loved both of them.
She said that when her grandmother got dementia it was the first time in her life that she was vulnerable and allowed her daughter to care for her.
My mom was similar in the fact that I caught the brunt of her frustration and she showered my children with love.
The author’s mom and grandmother were stubborn and they were always at each other’s throats. After her grandmother’s diagnosis she was cooperative with her daughter and her mom felt compassion for the first time. She explained that her mother felt compassion because she was no longer competitive with her daughter.
It was a great read written from the granddaughter’s perspective. If I remember the title of the book I will share it with you.
My FIL was a hoot - he told the caregivers at his SNF that he was going to buy the nursing home and turn it into a swingers club.
He was one of those pretty sexually based dementia guys and was always asking anyone to "check the sore on my butt". He once threatened to report me for refusing to check. He never did recognize me, he just thought I was one of his caregivers.
He once propositioned me to climb in bed with him and MIL for some fun (?) Yikes, the things you don't expect in this caregiving business.
She gets pissy with that comment
I like the “I’m not the maid”
Sometimes I had to resort to
“ It’s not my fault you are old “. when nothing else worked .
Then, the next visit, she claims she’s teaching at a certain school and describes her students, which I know means she’s mid-20s in her mind.
Did you get this one when mom wasn’t getting her way ?
“ Why did I bother having kids? it was a waste of time “.
”Oh Ana, you KNOW that’s not what happened!” Said with a dramatically contorted face, and a reworking of events that made her the victim.
“Why do you do this to me? I just want to be left alone!” Said with the same contorted face, as she shadowed me.
“A new outfit?!? Don’t flatter yourself. Nobody even notices you.” alternating with “You wore THAT?!”
“I’ve never had to apologize for anything because I’ve never made a mistake.” (quickly learned I shouldn’t have laugh-snorted - she was serious)
”99%? If only you’d studied more you could gotten perfect.”
When I told her not to say the 99% one to my kids as it hurt my feelings when I was in school, she told me to learn to take a joke.
I know you aren’t my therapists and I may be abusing my privileges on this site, but I’m undergoing some serious revelations about my life.
My MIL popped out for the last time about two weeks before she died. That time it was more fun, we placed calls to her sister and the inlaws she had enjoyed and called her sons that lived far away. They hadn't been able to talk to her for months and most were crying while they talked to her. She didn't seem to notice, just kept chatting away. She sent me to buy some clothes for her and when I brought them back the next day she was already immersed back in dementia. I hung them up where she would see them, just in case.
FIL did a similar thing a few days before he died. He had been placed on hospice for a tear in in his intestine that the doctors refused to repair due to his mental state. When he "woke up", we sat at his bedside with him while the residents and staff came through to say goodbye. He kept telling us "these are good people", it was touching.