And Now We Wait

It's been a while. We've lived a few lifetimes in May. The many phone calls, the begging to be taken to see my brother, the violent episode where she broke stuff. That time when we thought her doctor fired us. And then middlesis arrived, intending to take mom back to her state.

We didn't want her to (am I repeating myself?) for fear of her safety, mom's safety, coronavirus, everything. And I have stayed out of it since she got here. I appreciate the break from the chaos of mom and the adrenaline poisoning of family strife, but I don't think we're closer to any resolution about what to do about her situation. We are not closer to finding a psychiatrist. If we do find a psychiatrist I don't know whether my family will take recommendations that might not agree with their world view.

I do not know what happens next. I'm avoiding my mom. She's back to loving me, she says.

In the meantime the world is falling down around us. Middlesis' home town is on fire, and the hotel where she was staying here was also close to local protests. I did not help with mom while sis was here, because I believe that my mom needs to be living in a more supportive environment (memory care), and what sis is doing is avoiding that same thing.

Yesterday we did what people do when times get tough. We took the kitten cure. There were 11 kittens in two litters that were offered on our work bulletin board. Yesterday the owners were only able to catch one, and he's the guy we brought home. He's really beautiful.Taught him to purr, gave him a flea bath, and now he's done all of the important functions. He has the run of the ugliest room in the house until his vet appointment in ten days. Currently known as Boy Kitten.

Call The Police!

The adventure continues. As of Tuesday, my sibs have come clean with the people in charge of Mom's community, and they know she has Alzheimer's. And now her neighbors know that as well, because she keeps making a break for it and yelling for help. A different day she was yelling about calling the police, and her neighbors, who are concerned about her, were apparently asking Wellness if it was time for her meds. That was kinda sweet. Now she's just annoying -- suffering and I can't help.

When I thought things had calmed down a bit last weekend, I asked for the sibs to reserve my work day for work. I told them they could talk to me before work, at lunch and after work (which is a lot of the day). "This isn't working for me," I heard, after one day. "I need your help". "Sure," I said. And I waited for the task that I was supposed to do, and heard nothing.

One of the great breakthroughs last week was that middlesis agreed to memory care, after many hours of 4-way phone conversations. I put down the deposit to be on the waiting list for a specific facility. And then she wavered and said of memory care: "I just don't see it. I don't see why memory care is better than her own place, with Ladies" (i.e. our private caregivers). The next day she wanted a private conversation with me to hash things out. We came away with an agreed-upon set of tasks regarding memory care. Then she told my other sister that memory care is not an option.

Mom is now cycling between being violent and remorseful. Sister flew here to bring her to her own home -- a 6-hour flight. I think there are huge risks in this. Not just the trip, where my paranoid mom could freak out and get arrested or endanger people on a plane. But she is a lot to handle even in the best of times. I'm afraid for my sister. She doesn't understand that she's not equipped to deal with a paranoid angry mom. As I said "Sis, we're not in the Ramones any longer" I don't even know why she wants to do this.

As far as I can tell, there isn't really a plan, other than no memory care, a psychotic mother and waiting for her to be kicked out of her community. The only way I know to keep myself sane is not to help. In the meantime my other two siblings and all of our spouses agree that Mom needs memory care, but there seems no way to stop the powerful sister train. I'm just a "doer of things" for someone who doesn't live here and wants Mom to live a specific way.

The latest I hear is talk of getting a psychiatrist to see mom. Experts are to be scorned if they don't agree with my sister, so I don't see the point.

A couple of days ago when Mom was throwing and breaking things, I asked my support group's help in thinking about what to do. How would you get a psych hold? I learned a lot. One thing is that if we managed to get her in a voluntary psychiatric hospitalization, they would set her up with a lot of supportive services and a social worker for the family. You would think this would make me feel warm and fuzzy, but when one sibling is the ultimate authority, will not budge, does not agree that Mom has Alzheimer's, is angry and resentful and feels that she knows more than doctors or other professionals, why spend the time pretending? I tried social workers / family mediation before, to no avail.

Meanwhile, I brought flowers to Mom yesterday and she told me that she didn't need to see me again, because I wasn't going to do what she wants and help her escape from the community where she lives. She thinks that "bad people" are holding children hostage, that "bad people" are in the basement, and that we will remember this moment and be sorry.

I'm sorry now. Do I get any points for that?

Some day we'll laugh, and that's why I'm writing this down in all of its absurd fucked up nuance and glory.

I leave you with Jimmy Lunceford, one of Mom's favorites, and his song "Call The Police!"

Most Awful Daughter Award!

Today I gave a deposit and an application to a memory care facility on behalf of the mama.

It's been over a week of daily calls with siblings, caregivers, leadership at her community, and none of all of our efforts are changing the situation. The situation is threats of self harm in the morning, relentless arguing with her caregiver, wanting to be with the bro even though that would be terrible for him and is wife. It suuucks.

My siblings are all retired or don't work for the Man, like I do. Their days can be spent in endless conversation, problem solving and other energy spent on the mama's behalf. I cannot live like this and I certainly can't live the life I am living today endlessly, without a plan in place.

At some point in the morning, the last holdout gave in. I let the sibs know that I'd spoken to a memory care facility, and shared what I knew of it with my siblings. And now we have put in an application for the waiting list. I don't want to be doing this (sending the mama to memory care) but I will. It's the right thing to do, for so many reasons. Among other things, the bro has to stop fighting the mama fight so that he can fight for his life. And I can't continue.

After we dropped off the application, I stopped by the liquor store. And then I made us margaritas in our ice cream maker. It didn't take away the pain, but it was tasty.

Today's another day. Went to see the mama, and after I told her I would not take her away she said that she couldn't believe that I believed "them" over my own mother. And that she's sorry she borned me (I responded that I thought she'd had a pretty good 57 years, but whatever), and that she would like to have her car back (the one that I have to have because she's obsessed with it but can't store at her house). And she said that she thinks she'll make sure I don't inherit anything.


I told her that when we're both in heaven she will understand what happened.

Just about then, one of the nurses from her building came past. I thrust my fists in the air with jubilation. Winnie! I just won the Most Awful Daughter award!! Then I asked her to give mom a Xanax.


I went home and I don't think I'm returning for a while. It's not helping her and despite my best efforts, she got to me today. The pain of her disapproval haunts me.

It's My Job Not To Break

We're already doing:

Coronavirus
Shelter-in-place

with everyone else in the world.

But then there's the Mom with Alzheimer's component. It's pushed her over the edge.

She's so unhappy. Calling us multiple times every day to beg us to get her out of her community, which is sheltering. She doesn't understand why shelter in place is happening. She's paranoid. She can't retain the information about the virus.

We asked her doctor for an anti-anxiety medication. It or the continued shelter-in-place and foxnews has resulted in delusions and more paranoia. My siblings argue about whether she has Alzheimers. We argue about whether memory care is necessary. I think it is, but nobody expected that by the time she needed it she would still be together enough to tell us how she feels about it.

Monday she made a run for the border -- snuck out into the hallway, trying to break free. I went to see her later that morning and she pulled many things out of her pockets:
Two lipsticks
Two different kinds of candy
Random jewelry
Three emery boards
A note to the residents from the management saying, among other things, that it's great that you are remembering to wear masks. Please also remember to wear clothes.

In the waistband of her pants she had a card (Mother's Day, perhaps?) that in all likelihood concealed her checkbook.



She wants to live in a little house near my brother. She doesn't understand that she has not lived alone for five years and can't do things that she used to do without assistance. At some point she also said she was sorry she lived by me and that she wouldn't need to live close to me and that she and I aren't that close, anyway. Ouch, but whatever.

I spent much of the day on the phone with her or my siblings.

Tuesday, she called around to us all day. Get me out of here!!

Wednesday she called and said she's being held against her will (Tuesday there was a claim of crimes against nature). Why won't I take her out of there? Terrible things are happening and I will be very sorry when I learn that she was right. She made quite a performance for the resident services guy, who arrived during one of her major meltdowns. She told him that he was a liar, and she didn't know about Covid and that his rules about sheltering were made up. Meanwhile at my house -- I packed a bag and put it by the door.

Today's Thursday. She called in the morning and wanted to be freed from her incarceration. I heard from others that she was threatening to kill herself. Half of my siblings agreed that intervention was necessary. I asked the front desk to call 911. Then I got in the car.

Since then I have had meetings with Resident Services, Wellness, and city police officers who evaluated her mental state (not suicidal).

In the meantime my brother, who has two different cancers and a very large lung tumor is the source of her fixation. I wish that nobody had told my mom the truth, that he has a new tumor, but nobody listens when my eldest sister and I tell them that even though you have promised to always tell your mom with Alzheimer's the truth, it's a completely selfish act to do so.

God's a problem. Peoples' relationship with God is a problem in this family.

Yesterday the doctor prescribed what we thought was going to be Haldol. After the police left today I was able to pick up the prescription at the pharmacy. It was not Haldol. I showed the label to my siblings in a photo. Texts about the inappropriateness of this drug for Alz patients started raining down upon me. Texts about how this drug should start working in one to two weeks started raining down upon me. We need relief for her urgently and her doctor is concerned about prescribing medication that might make her drowsy.

DROWSY??? Make her drowsy, please!! She has 24/7 caregiving. It's ok!

All morning I stayed put, parked in front of her residence, so that the people in charge who work there could find me and so that I could help them. Wellness and I consulted, and I shared my concern that drug #1 that will take effect next week and isn't otherwise appropriate for people with cognitive impairment. They got in touch with the mama's primary care doctor.

He doesn't know that she has had a clinical diagnosis of Alzheimer's for four years. Why? Because his health system isn't connected to the system of Mom's specialists, like the neurologist who diagnosed her. Also because we purposefully didn't tell her doctor because we did not want her community to find out from him, and kick her out.

We are all now paying the price.

At some point this morning I took a giant header while talking to the nurse and moving from the street to the sidewalk and avoiding elderly people so that we could be socially distant. I did not break anything, including my phone. I did scream, roll over, and tell my eldest sister, who I was also talking to on the phone, that I was ok, had fallen but was ok and would call back.

At some other point I went to a grocery store because I was supposed to shop for the mama on my way to see her today, only I called 911 on her instead. So I still had that task. I bought her bacon, and I also bought myself bacon, and tomorrow morning I am going to eat a fucking Jenga of bacon, Lord willing.

I brought groceries to the mama, then drove 20 minutes back to my home because I had to use the bathroom, and came back two hours later to pick up a prescription for narcotics, which had to be driven from the doctor's office, across the town mama lives in, to the pharmacy. It was my second trip there today and they were so kind. Filled that prescription in 15 minutes. Drove it back over to the mama's place. Drove home.

We had beer delivered to our house and mrguy and I looked deep into each other's eyes.

Cheers, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

It has been a day.

I did not break.

A Haiku

I danced but she's forgotten

Delusions in the morning

The mama has Alzheimer's