Shopping service....

I hate shopping.
I hate shopping for clothes. For shoes.
I hate shopping for myself.
I hate shopping with Okaasan.
I hate shopping for Okaasan....without Okaasan.

I hate shopping.

Which is why last week I was buzzing round a shopping mall in a 45 min break from work - stressily buzzing shop to shop, alighting on racks of trousers. Homeing in on BLACK trousers and trying to find the combination of:

black
elastic waist - because I have no idea what size she is now
short legs - or a style that can be shortened by the sewing lady
NOT nasty polyester if at at all possible..

Shop to shop. Often I'd zoomed out again even before the startled staff had managed to come out from behind their counter to help me - my Xray vision teling me that they didn't have what I needed.

The care home told us recently that Okaasan needs at least one more pair of trousers, specially now they are trying to get her into the Day Care room and walking practice. They want to get her out of pajamas and into street clothes. Of course.

Hence the hated shopping task.

I took a very old pair of trousers with me to try and judge length, but it was pretty hard to shop for an absent someone. But not without moments of light relief: thanks to the shop assistant who responded to my "86 year old woman, in a care home, short, a bit fat, black, elastic waistband, wool?" request with padded and nightclub-shiny pants - the kind of thing rockstars wear for casual.

Um. No.
Massive Customer Need Match fail. If Okaasan was arriving at an airport to greet fans, or doing a radio interview those pants would have been fine.
However, like all dementia sufferers, she has bought the same clothes for years and years - same style and colors - and I think even she would notice that the rockstar pants were NOT hers.

Anyway..... located two pairs of pants within 25 minutes - which is about the maximum amount of time I can endure being in a clothes shop. Dear Son took them in on his next visit and we hope at least one of them will be ok.

Dear Son has been home a lot, a break in the ski work before Chinese New Year and thousands of families coming to holiday in Hokkaido. So he has been into the care home several times.

The Day Service has happened again. The other twice a week visits from staff will happen too. Okaasan basically ok - but...but....

The care staff report that one night she got out of bed herself and WALKED UNAIDED to the toilet!!!!! :-()
From there they suddenly heard her voice, calling out for assistance in getting up and out again. Luckily she was fine.
Not sure why the bed sensor didn't work.
We have kind of mixed feelings about this: good that she is able to walk unaided. Bad that she did this...when she isn't so strong and balanced.

I also have the old fears: if she gets too physically able, will her Dear Son start thinking she would be able to leave the care home and come back to live HERE???? With us??? Again??? No.................................

I don't want her back. I don't want her here again. At the moment I go whole days without even thinking about her. Yup. Bad, I know. But that's the truth.
We have decided to use the rooms in the house for various guests - friends and friends of friends...already had 3 people staying, which freaked out the cats, but is a good use of the space.

Anyway. I don't want her here again...

I think that isn't likely, it is more my fear really. The care home staff also report that Okaasan has been a little aggressive with another old lady...so I think Dear Son can see that her mental state is finely balanced, and beyond what we could cope with at home.
We talked about whether she will be ok to come with us in the car and drive to a restaurant for lunch sometime after ski season. Of course, not a certainty at the moment - we would have to be sure she was ok to get into a restaurant toilet, and whether she would be ok to visit a different place without getting frightened and stressed. None of that is a green light at the moment.

It would be awful if we took her to a noodle place for lunch one day and she started shouting at strangers and us, banging the table with her hands. So for now, the familiar 10th floor of the care home and visits to 3rd floor Day Care and 1st floor lobby are enough.

So. There we are. That's our state early-February.

Oh God. I hate shopping.
I will need a few months to recover from that before I will be able to venture near clothes racks and price tags again.