A diarrhea day

June 26, 2011

I feel for you. I used to care for my mom in that way but after recent

incidents in which she even talked crap about my 2 year old son, i checked

out... quit... resigned that job. If you are not ready to walk away, can you

hire a live in nurse or person who can take care of her that way? Thats what my

uncles did with my bpd grandmother and how my older brother and i do with our

bpd mom. Good luck and patience.

>

> It's one of those days when nada is in control and I'm struggling to control

my reaction. You all know what I mean.

>

> Last week I was so pleased because I handled something like an adult. :-) I

had gone over to her place early because she had a morning eye appointment. When

I got there, she was sitting in the dark, head down. When I said hi, she said,

" I almost gave up on you. " I asked what she meant. She said she thought I would

come over early. I explained that I did come over early, we didn't have to leave

for another 30 minutes. She then said with a pouty face, " I thought you'd come

over an hour early so you could listen to me talk. " Yep, really. My first gut

reaction was to apologize but I didn't. I just said we had all day to talk (I

usually spend 5-7 hours with her twice a week running errands and such). She

went on about how horrible her life is, how everything bad happens to her. Blah,

blah, blah.

>

> But today I blew it. This was a nada day where I visit her, run errands,

whatever. She called me about 6 am, said don't come over, said she probably had

a heart attack but it was no big deal. Since she's probably going to die, she

wants the day to shred paper and clean up some stuff. Now I know this is her way

of expressing her anger and loneliness. I mentioned she should call the doctor,

they can do a couple of simple blood tests to see if she had a heart attack. She

said it doesn't matter, it's too late now. Her reason for thinking she had a

heart attack? She wet the bed - at least that's what she says.

>

> Then she went on about her money. She wants to know how much money she has. My

husband and I have been over this so many times with her the past 3 years since

my Dad died. We've made flow charts, got her files cleaned up and in order,

showed her what the various account statements look like (there are 3) and made

a chart for her to fill in when the statements come in. But she just doesn't get

it at all. She just gets mad. She said this morning, " Don't you think I should

know what money I have? " I said sure, just take a look at the statements you

have and you'll have a more updated idea. The chart we made for her to fill in

was last year. We started it for her and she hasn't touched it since.

>

> So I let her have her day to shred God only knows what paper work. She shreds

whatever she doesn't understand which is most everything. But my guts rebelled

and I ended up in the bathroom. My brain tells me what's going on and how I

should respond but my body still reacts in ugly ways. This has happened so many

times before. More recently I let her have her way and be alone. But then the

next day she says, " I thought you might still come over anyway and we could go

out to lunch. " Shoot - you can't have it both ways.

>

> I am so tired. You ever feel like life isn't worth living at times like this?

No, I'm not going to kill myself but I just don't know how much more of this I

can take. Between watching my daughter's crappy marriage and seeing our little

grandson suffer from all that and trying to take care of my nada, it all just

sucks. I wish I wasn't an only child. I wish a doctor would declare her unable

to live alone. I wish, I wish, I wish. . . . .

>

June 27, 2011

Irene,

It sounds as if your mother is a lot like mine was before she got to the point I

was able to force aides on her because of dementia. She wanted ME to do for her,

and nobody else was going to be a substitute. There was just this lack of

cooperation that I am sensing in your posts - it's hard to explain to people who

haven't experienced it, but these frail old people can put us between a rock and

a hard place. They won't accept help, but they can't do it themselves, so WE

have to do it for them. But meanwhile they drive us nearly insane.

Do you know how I finally got my mother into the actual nursing home? My mother

had fallen and hurt herself - as it turned out she had broken her pelvis, but

for all I knew at the time it was another non-injury fall.

I cornered the emergency room doctor, a woman maybe six or seven years younger

than me, and I told her I was desperate to get my mother out of her house where

she only had people going in three times a week for four hours and into a

full-time care situation. I flat out said: I need your help doing this. I can't

go live with her, and she can't come live with me. The doctor was a working

woman - she got it right away, no questions asked.

The doctor then immediately told me that she could tell my mother had dementia

and that she had no problem saying she needed the nursing home admission, she

put it in writing, and that was it - she was in. I said, Mom, the doctor says

you can't go home and live alone, and that was it.

So there is hope - just be watchful for your opportunity, because there are

medical professionals out there who will come to your aid if you tell them the

situation, and eventually just about every elderly person lands in the ER for

one reason or another.

Funny - people who are crazy about their parents would read this and say, Gawd,

what a bitch she is! lol

Em

> Thank you Annie for the idea and I don't mean to poop on your parade but I

doubt she would allow that kind of manipulation. First of all she wouldn't pay

us for anything. And if we simply hire someone to do her yard work without her

approval, she will come unglued. She has her pride and " Dignity! " as she points

out all the time. " Maintain your Dignity! " she says. Then she'll lift her blouse

in public or fart all the way through Goodwill. LOL I have to see the humor in

this. Back to the yard or house work - I can predict the outcome and I'm not up

for the drama and anger. I'd rather the place fall down around her ears and have

her talk behind my back. I can't physically or emotionally deal with her anger.

June 27, 2011

I'm ashamed to admit this but I've often wished there would be some definitive

turning point with my nada. I'm not so cold that I want her to suffer but I keep

thinking if something happened where she couldn't live at home any more, that

would take the pressure off of me. I'm never clear in my own mind what that

" something " might be. A broken pelvis like your nada isn't ideal. Blindness?

Stroke? None of that is a good thing to wish for. But her doctor isn't that

involved so there's no help from that sector. Still, reading your story gives me

hope. As flaky and faux wobbly as she is at times, I'm thinking she'll do

something weird that will cause her to end up in assisted living. I'm not making

myself clear I guess. She does things for attention without always thinking of

the consequences and one of these little tricks may bite her back. For now I

just wait and hang on to my sanity.

This morning she called again to cancel our day. I saw who it was and passed the

phone to my husband. Kind of selfish of me but last Monday she told me not to

come over and it twisted my guts all day. My husband admitted that today it hit

him too but not as bad. He thought it was a good idea I passed the phone to him.

It's so strange because the phone visit I had with her on Saturday was very

upbeat and she was laughing, talking about all the stuff we could do today. She

is beyond weird.

>

> > Thank you Annie for the idea and I don't mean to poop on your parade but I