#$%* Happens

Hope you're not eating breakfast.

Cos it's unhealthy for you to eat breakfast and surf the Internet at the same time!

And you might find topics like this.

Found a nasty little parcel in Okaasan's room yesterday.
Casually left next to the sofa and the recycle newspaper box. A supermarket flyer crumpled up. ThankGOODNESS I didn't grab it.
Something brown and squishy inside.

Set me off on a hunt for the pants or pajamas that she'd been wearing at the time. Soon located the nice flowery jimjams I bought her this spring. Squishy and probably stained beyond rescue.

Sigh.
These "toilet accidents" at more than before. We use to find them in winter, or when her legs painful. Times when maybe she hadn't got to the toilet in time.
DS also has a theory that sushi is to blame. He's stopped taking her to sushi or buying it for meals at home. I think that's sad - she loves sushi and sashimi. A little is ok. But gorging out at a revolving sushi bar is probably a bad idea.
Maybe slightly old food in the fridge is also a bad idea?

Old people and their digestion? Or something more? We'll never know if it is something medically wrong. Cos she will never go to a doctor.

Anyway. About once a week now.

Can't talk to her about it. Tried that in the past. She doesn't remember the incident afterward.
Could try putting a toilet style trash box by the door in her room? Would that be enough of an association to get her to put soiled things there?

Onwards thinking.

Peaceful Sunday.
I got her into a bath, gave her lunch and then went out myself for a long walk and a movie.

Came home with a small amount of raw fish and tried to cook the burdock and carrot dish. It didn't look so good and Okaasan told me I'd done it wrong - I used to flare up at her advice. Now I just let it was over me and nod, and aplogise for being a bad cook. I have learned to control my flare up feelings over the last few years!
Hey....
If I am home early enough tonight I might ask HER to show me how to cook it.
Might.
Or I might come in thru the front door, pour myself some Chardonnay and watch TV.

Winter caring warm up

Into my first weekend of winter care.

DS buggered off to Tokyo on Thursday morning - leaving me the health insurance card, and the number of the day care manager. No Letter of Authorization this time. That's ok, while he is drinking and eating his way round Tokyo he is easier to phone contact than somewhere out on a ski area in real winter.

Winter.

He left on a lunchtime flight.

There were flurries of snow.

By 6 pm winter had arrived. It snowed non-stop from Thursday at 6 pm until Saturday at lunchtime. 10 -15 cm. Wet, heavy snow.

So, my trial run with Okaasan for this winter season really felt like winter.

First two days a bit crazy. The snow, I had dawn till dusk work. Came home between classes Thursday and Friday to prep dinner for Okaasan.

I ate with her Thursday. Quick before my work.

Thursday's White Lie was that DS was at a party.

Friday/Weekend's White Lie was that he has gone to Tokyo for a ski instructor's big meeting.

She doesn't seem bothered, either way.

So, she and  I did Saturday lunch together, and then Saturday dinner. Lunchtime I got her chatting about her hydrangea plant at her home in Saitama. A familiar story: how the old man who grew plants professionally gave her a hydrangea, how it was better than regular plants, how people in the street commented on it - but Okaasan wouldn't give them a cutting...because then everyone would come and take flowers.

Why do some stories in our life become THE stories we treasure and retell. Especially in dementia?

I guess this one has elements of special service/praise from others/home/flower?

But funny: when I broke the hamster wheel of chat about this famed hydrangea plant...."How nice, what color is it? Pink?"...Okaasan looked around the kitchen as if hunting for a clue right there: "Pink? no, I don't think so, what color? Not really a pink....."....before getting back onto the main rails with "...and there was this old man who grew plants professionally...."

Her memory stories are stories, rather than memories? Words that give a sense of comfort. Not the detail of the event?

Anyway, Saturday night dinner - I tried, oh I TRIED, to leave the silence as we ate and see if she would fill it herself. Nothing. She ate. I ate. The minutes ticked by. I said nothing. Neither did she. It is so unnerving. Silent eating.

Finally I asked her about her Japanese tea bowl that was on the table and got her onto a 15 minute hamster wheel about the bowl, the design, samurai, men doing tea ceremony/tea ceremony school etc etc

Apart from that: took her in the car to the big supermarket yesterday. Let her loose in there for 30 mins. Today she'll have a bath.

So. Winter mode.

I miss my man. My TV companion and joker. But in a way it is easier to be in full responsible mode for Okaasan. I will decide everything she does today: the bath, the lunch, the dinner. Probably even the curtain opening and closing times. Whether she goes out or not. Not. It's my turn today, she can stay home and watch TV,

Working life is busy at the moment. Classes, narrations and editing work. I'm happy. But tired this weekend. Lots of sitting and watching TV. I even went to bed at 9 pm last night.

The cats are amazed about snow. 4th year for them. But still amazed.

Okaasan in Costcoland

A little Japanese old lady in a strange land - where everything is bigger, brighter and much more fattening!
Dear Son took his mother to Costco, that emporium to the great American truth that you CAN buy everything cheaper.

I just wish I had a whole video of this event. But I was working.
He took her out for a Japanese lunch at a noodle restaurant, and then - because time was short and he needed shopping and she needed a walk - he spirited her away to a fantasy land of giant packaging, huge decorated cakes and Xmas illuminations that would light up half of Ohio.

She held onto the trolley all the way round the store, for balance. And bought mammoth bags of dried seaweed snacks and rice crackers. He steered her AWAY from the giant bottles of shochu liqour.
And they bought the big pizza and came home.

:-)

In the evening we ate the pizza and I asked her about the experience. She kind of remembered going. But had absolutely no comment or conversation about it. This is dementia in action: a few hours after that whole experience she had nothing to say about it. For sure, she has never been in a shop so huge and with so many unfamiliar things.
But no comments. Just vague agreement sounds and a few words when we talked about the shop and how cheap the pizza is, how US military families come shopping there etc.

Yesterday DS took okaasan for a walk locally to the ordinary supermarket. Walked around it and came home again.
In the evening he commented: "Her walking really isn't very good. I had to hold her hand most of the time. She almost lost her balance. Her walking isn't good. She can't go alone..."

Yeah.
Right.
Today he leaves for Tokyo for a week.
He'll come back and then the ski work will start.

Yo ho HO!

When he comes back I told him we will fix the winter arrangements for Okaasan.
Daycare?
Day worker visiting for chat and cooking?
Taxi driver to take her somewhere?
Nishi-guru's exercise video on a timed loop?

and...that letter of authorization to allow me to send Okaasan to hospital if all else fails.

Walking again

Son and mother have just gone out for a Sunday afternoon walk round the neighborhood.

She is better again. A few rough days, still not eating lots. But much brighter and, most importantly, she can get up off the carpet and stand unaided. Walk to the toilet. Walk to the kitchen table.
Today is the first time out since the fall last week.

So, there was 48 hours of DS having to pick her up off the carpet. Standing behind her with his arms under her arms and pulling her upright. I can't do that.
She is out of diapers and back into her own underwear. And changing herself.

So yes - it is good this fall happened while he is here to see the results and imagine what it would be like if I was here alone.

Before he goes to Tokyo I will get the contact numbers of the day service people. They will be my first call. Out of hours, or a real emergency it will be an ambulance.

And yes - probably a GREAT idea to get a letter of authorization from him to say that he recognises I am responsible for her care and that over her wishes I can decide to get her to a hospital.
He does feel that generally - although I think we disagree at one point a hospital may be necessary. But heavens - it is ONLY a hospital! We are not talking here about committing her to a mental institution. Only hospital. For like...oh I don't know - care and comfort?

And Okaasan?
Doesn't really remember that she fell down. Sometimes she does (because we've told her), but generally no memory of that.

Onwards into winter. This will be our SIXTH winter with Okaasan.
I started this blog in 2008, when Okaasan came to live with us.
And here we are 6 years later.

And I am still trying to perfect my miso soup.

:-)