Volcano in the living room

Bubbling, bubbling...erupting...throwing out rocks...hot...molten...simmering again...bubbling...spewing forth....raging...simmering...

ALL of the above. Often in the space of a few minutes.
We are on volcano watch this weekend.

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. 

Physically? Okaasan IS getting better. We had to use the wheelchair last night. But then she started being able to walk and stand - in a kind of two-step with Dear Patient Son. They look like judoists grappling. She is holding onto his arms as he backs slowly in front of her and she shuffles forward.
She has got to the toilet a few times with help.

She slept on the sofa, with a coffee table upended next to it to stop her slipping onto the floor. And her Dear Very Patient Son sleeping on the carpet nearby.

We had family dinner. She ate well. Looked soooo sleepy and was pretty silent. Maybe happy to be back.

"I went to hospital? When? Why?" was probably the stunner of the evening. Two weeks plus of experience gone from her memory. 

But the impact of those two weeks is right here and raw. 
Fury. tetchy, fractious, scolding, anger - at everything.

MOVE that clothes rack!
Why is that table there?
Why is that wheelchair here?
What's that?
Are those socks clean?
That man on TV.....

All of this with raised voice and anger.

It's very, very wearing. And she only came back yesterday...we are hoping this will subside. Apparently the hospital said she was more aggressive in the mornings.

Oh God we hope so. And we hope it gets less. If THIS is the new norm? It's like the dementia has scaled up by several notches.

And then.
She let us change her pajamas and diapers without too much fuss. Like a toddler - she let Dear Son kneel in front of her and she held onto his shoulders. I was behind her as we took off the clothing, she obediently lifted one foot at a time to let us undress and dress her - all the time chatting on about the name plate of the neighbor's house she could see thru the curtains... 

And 20 minutes later - she took off the hospital corset  and threw it on the floor...."I KNOW what is best for my body? What hospital? What doctor?" 

And then polite again; "thankyou for the flower. That's pretty". 

"Why is that piece of paper on the table? Is it mine? What is that cup?" with cold fury voice.


We are exhausted. It's only 10 am on Saturday.
Onwards into our weekend.