A Trip Down Memory Lane

     My brother, Tee, seems to live in the past. His memories are the only place he likes to visit. He collects them like my mother collects twist ties. And the details that he remembers are astounding. I always think of the Springsteen song, "Glory Days" when he starts talking:

("Now I think I'm going down to the well tonight
and I'm going to drink till I get my fill
And I hope when I get old I don't sit around thinking about it
but I probably will
Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture
a little of the glory of, well time slips away
and leaves you with nothing mister but
boring stories of glory days" Words and music by Bruce Springsteen)

The problem with this is that he has bought a ticket for my mom and keeps expecting her to go. She cannot. He really does need to get with the program. It does not help her, It does not stir anything. She only gets more confused and agitated. And then he goes home. I really do have to talk to him, again.

      Her passport has expired; the road is closed and is not expected to re-open; the concrete has buckled and the potholes are irreparable; their are sinkholes, swamps, deserts, ice fields, cliffs; the tires are flat and the engine cannot be put in gear. Have I used enough figurative language? I can go on, if you want.

      She cannot answer the questions he asks. Nothing makes sense to her. Logic doesn't exist. Time has collapsed. Talk about living in the moment... It is difficult to wrap your head around the way her brain works. Everything in her past is happening at the same time in the present. And some of it may not have actually  happened at all. She gives new definition to the idea of going with the flow. As I like to say, I have to be like a cork on the water...

Th, th, th, that's all for now, folks, see you next time...

All Dogs Go To Heaven

          This is a picture of baby Peanut in puppy jail. Don't worry, he got off soon after for time served.

 Peanut was almost 17 years old when I had to put him down. Have you ever noticed that there are a lot of ways to say died...euthanized; put to sleep; sent to a farm to live; bought the farm; went to meet his maker; passed over; no longer with us; gone; gave up his ghost; cashed out; pushing up daisies; making the transition and on and on.

The doc had trouble finding a vein...finally, an overdose of anesthetic was given to him. He very quickly stopped breathing and about 5 seconds after that his heart stopped. It took me a long time to come to that decision, but it was time. I have been crying all week, and I miss him but am remembering all the great times we had.

Peanut started getting dementia about 2 or 3 months ago. He was clearly confused, hard of hearing with decreased vision. He had, in a very short period of time developed what my mom has, but her dementia has taken place over years.

We decided not to tell my mother that Peanut had died. She does not seem to notice his absence as he spent a lot of time over the past 6 months, sleeping, under the blankets. (He was always a cave dog). She would not remember what I said.

My mom always thought of the dogs as her 'grandchildren' (which worked out well for me, as I do not have children). She has pictures of them in her room, along with her own children, her brother, her parents and her husband. She received Christmas and Mother's Day cards from the dogs, which by the way, she saved.

When Dee would go out to Long Island to visit her mother, she would take the dogs with her. Dee's mom (Em) is 88. Em instantly fell in love with them and Peanut sat on her lap under the covers, Buster at her feet. She brought a picture of the 'boys' to her church to show her friends. Em is now in a nursing home. She has significant medical problems as well as early dementia...but she remembers her furry grandchildren. She has a photo of the 2 of them in her hospital room. Whenever Dee visits, she asks how her boys are doing. Dee also has chosen not to tell her mother about Peanut's death.

It's funny how our animal companions change our lives, and can make us better people. They teach and train us, not the other way around. They live in the moment and do not hold grudges. Their memories are very short. You know the saying...May we become what our animals think we are. And may we have the patience, tolerance and understanding for those whom depend on us.

Rest in peace, 'Peanut Butter'  forever chasing tennis balls, tree'ing squirrels, and running as fast as he possibly can for no apparent reason (so fast, he would flip over).

Addendum: since the day has been going on, my mother has asked many times about Peanut...I guess I'm going to tell her. I'll see how it turns out and let you know. 
Addendum #2: I told my mom that I had bad news and that Peanut had died. She asked how old he was and said how they (our animal companions) become such a part of the family. Then she said, "Love is love". Sometimes, she's magical.

Dealing with Medical People

          Unfortunately, the averages bear has no idea what dementia and Alzheimer's look like. Most of them aren't just ignorant, they are insensitive to the family taking care of them and do not help to preserve the dignity of the parent or spouse.
          Geriatricians specialize in the problems and diseases of old age and aging people. Getting someone hooked up a Geriatrician usually happens AFTER the first symptoms appear. And these symptoms are usually only noticeable if you see them or live with them 24/7.
          My mom has been seeing the same doc for 25 years. (He is also aging.) The idea of bringing her to a new doctor at this time, does not seam reasonable. She recognizes him, recognizes his office and she is seen very quickly when she is there. They have a handi-capable entrance and large bathroom. Here's the deal...when we go to the doc's she tells him everything is "fine,fine" and she feels "great, great". Thankfully she is quite physically healthy except she is unable to give a urine sample on demand.
          I call him outside the room and to tell him what is really going on. I researched the medications and told him what I was thinking. He works closely with me. I continue (and needed) to gather as much information about dementia and medications as I handle. Having a computer and access to the internet is very convenient and time saving. (I have already posted some links on the main page of the blog). The amount of links on Google for dementia is about 4,810,000. That is a lot of information!
          My mother had to be hospitalized for a urological procedure. The anesthesia made her 'loopy'. She was delusional, hallucinating, dis-inhibited (kissing everybody). They had her on a 1:1 aide because of her behavior but neglected to let her surgeon know and they certainly didn't tell me when I was picking her up at discharge. Are you kidding me? I brought her home in that state and the effects of the anesthetize really didn't wear off for days. The first thing she did when we got home was pull out her indwelling catheter. I called her surgeon right away.
          We had to go back to this hospital to be straight catheterized. The E.R. nurse (I am extremely embarrassed for my profession) did not do a mental status exam (ie. do you know what day it is?; do you know where you are?; do you know who is the president?; do you know how old you are?). If she had, she would have known right away that my mother was not oriented and had no recent memory and her older memories were convoluted. I called her outside the room and told this nurse that my mother had moderate dementia. She walked back into the room and said to my mother: "oh, you have dementia?". I couldn't believe it. I thought that not only was the nurse an idiot, but she was also an a**hole. (Again, unbelievably disappointed in my profession.) My mother looked at her with shock on her face. Thankfully, she did not remember what the nurse had said and we went on our merry way after her procedure.
          And eventually, everything settled down and we went back to normal dementia (if there is such a thing).
          The toll on me was significant... but sometimes medical personnel can't see beyond their own little world. Don't forget, we are all going to get old (even you nurses, doctors, and aides) and possibly end up in a hospital. This is how you would want to be treated?  I say, try and keep up, would ya!?