My mother is one of the most miserable humans on Earth, and has been for years. Whenever anyone has asked her "How are you doing?", for as far back in my memory as I can reach, I can never remember her saying "I'm fine". Now she's smoked herself to death. She has COPD, CHF, steroid-induced diabetes, a colostomy, osteoporosis, bone spurs in her neck, neuropathy in her limbs, brittle skin that tears at the drop of a hat...the list seems endless. She refuses to get out of bed to try to exercise to keep up any strength, and wants me to do more and more and more for her.
She's in the hospital right now because of a fall last week. She says her knees gave out.
I don't think it's so horrible that I just want this woman to finally have some peace, and yes, honestly, for the rest of us around her to have some as well. The discord and disharmony this narcissist spreads with her always ALWAYS negative attitude takes a toll. She will never change, and her health will only continue to go downhill.
I realize that I don't get to make the decision of when she goes, but I will admit that I do want her to. I think it's the only way she'll finally be "fine".
totally agree Veronica
I already asked the social worker if they have observed that she is drinking the juice. She said she didn't know and I should bring it up when I see them Tuesday. This is not rocket science. Mother is sharp.
Just called and talked to the nurse on the unit and she says mother is not drinking her juice, so that is the answer. The nurse said she is paranoid from time to time, and the main thing is she does not want to go back to her apartment.
My question is why does she not want to go back? My answer is because she is paranoid about it. She is not paranoid from time to time - it is ongoing.
I already mentioned the possibility that mother was not drinking her juice to the social worker who called earlier this morning and who says mother is quite paranoid. I agree. The social worker says to bring it up at the meeting so I will. I received a form in the mail, dated a week after admission, which states that mother is deluded and exhibits cognitive impairments which are affecting her ability to understand the benefit and consequences of psychiatric treatment. The social worker says they likely will not do psychological testing until the antipsychotic has taken affect as the paranoia affects her cognition. It seems we are on a merry go round here.
As long as they don't release her without treatment they can keep her as long as they want to. I notice she is only a "formal patient" (certified) till March 6th. I will ask about that too, as, at this rate, she won't be ready for testing for a while till they figure out how to get the drug into her. I know they can extend her stay. It takes the signatures of two doctors - the ones who have been caring for her. Oh well. The gears move slowly and they have other patients to deal with.
Really sorry to add to your worries but after two weeks I think there should be some improvement. I have never been the guest of a psychiatric institution but i doubt dispensing drugs is very different from a regular hospital. Your Mum would recognise a drug cart when she sees ot hears one,they rattle. ideally one would add the meds to a small amount of juice have the patient swallow that then provide another glass of juice for the pt to drink at their leisure. Won't work with Mum she is too sharp. but does she fool the medication nurse. She can still put on a good front can't she? it is possible that a medication nurse is not part of the regular team on Mum's floor therefor does not know her. She/he may dispense medications on several floors as their primary job. They check the room # the patient's wrist band and ask their name and DOB and then give out whatever is in the patients compartment on the drug cart following the instructions as to how it needs to be given. In Mum's case juice, other people apple sauce ,pudding etc, it can't for instance just be put on the breakfast tray for an Aide to deliver. Again i am sorry Emjo but i think you should raise this possibility with the Dr. CM is right thes meds do take a while to be effective but 2 weeks is usually enough. Again ask the Dr how long it usually take for them to begin to see effects. Hugs you need them
I don't mean we're not entitled to feel like zombies. Days like these, when emptying commodes and setting out clean clothes are the highlights, are not what you'd call a boost to joie de vivre. And DTC, I know what you mean about 'depressed' just not covering it. There's a sort of suppressed scream of 'holy God how much more?' going on in the background. And in a way what makes it worse is that there is NOTHING to stop us saying 'ok, that's enough, bye now' and walking. Not the law. Not physics or geography. Only our own free will (and Jiminy Bloody Cricket).
I think what helps me, don't know how many others it applies to, is remembering that the frustration part, at least, feels similar to when my children were small. Especially when they were ill. Especially when they were all ill at the same time. It felt as if it would NEVER END - and now, of course, I wish it hadn't. And I wish I'd realised while it was happening that one year is only one year - you never get to do it again.
Of course it isn't the same. We're not progressing, we're diminishing - this is the soft landing we're aiming for, not the triumphant (yes, er, well) take-off. And all we have to look forward to is loss, not a cheering thought in itself. It's getting harder instead of easier, too. The feedback gets less and less. Meanwhile our outside world is forgetting us, or - worse - getting actively impatient with how long it's all taking.
Oh dear Lord, I'm depressing myself, now.
But, it will end. We know it will, even if we don't know when. Oh great I am as I type getting a heart flutter - and there I was thinking that after this caregiving life ends there'll be another chapter: ok, not necessarily for us, then! The point, though, is that while it's going on what's happening to us in not all the world, not even all of our own world. We can stretch, we can breathe, we can listen to music, we can write (we can come and write here, for a start). We can wait. We can choose to do each task that we're obliged to do anyway well, or not well. With care, or without. With love, or with resentment. There is satisfaction to be found if we look for it.
I am, I promise, not one for platitudes and positive thinking. They can only take you so far before you are forced to acknowledge that you are being ridiculous pretending there is any fun to be found in a given situation. But if the alternative is escalating rage and misery from boredom, exhaustion, frustration and isolation…? All I mean is, when you do stumble over a choice in daily life, choose the option that feels better.
I am going to go and make her some tea and toast. One slice with honey and one slice with peanut butter is a pain, because of the crumbs and the two knives and the stickiness… but that's what she likes. She'll be happy. She'd be happy with honey too… but she likes to have both. Dearest Mama, here I come. xxx
As far as friends, Facebook is my only connection.
Personally, I'm glad the winter is so bad because I don't want to go out. I dread the thought she 'll still be here in the Spring when I'll want to be out gardening and such. That may sound selfish but we're going into 5yrs. of her slowly sucking the life out of me.
so i guess i am just doing this because...
well, it isn't money or property.
deep down i feel like by the time she is gone i will have really lost whatever it was my life was before.
i also don't really have any idea how i will react to the loss.
i don't think there are many of us who get our own counseling, and even fewer who have any interesting friends left. but maybe that is just me.
this harsh winter is sorta getting on top of me, maybe spring will bring some kind of relief.
depressed? i am not even sure if that word describes it anymore.
But which is worse. Her pushing me to the brink and screaming at her or her being treated like crap in a home.I love you momma. I walk the floor crying I love you momma I'm sorry momma. Yes I do believe that I've lost my mind
and she wants angels. ill pay for the angels its a charitable deduction for me. lets get this s**t done, amen..