More Laughs From The Fun Factory, May 2023 Edition

My sibs and I are in agreement that we're going to ask for medication to tamp down our mom's behavior. I needed a day off in order to simmer down myself after the weekend, so they kept yesterday's news to themselves. So when we had our phone meeting today to discuss next steps for mom, they shared yesterday's stories.

Apparently upstairs, in memory care, my mom spied her sworn enemy, a caregiver who worked for her on one occasion, who mom had a very negative response to. Mom accused her of causing her injuries (all self-inflicted). Every time she sees the remaining scabs on her hands, my mom talks about the caregiver and how she wants to kill her or, as my sister shared "I told her 'Hey, Bitch! Get out of here.' I could just hit her in the face and hope she falls down and dies."

Way to go, mom.

Yesterday that caregiver was working with Big David, who lives next door. A seemingly nice giant of a fellow. His wife is part of our monthly family caregiver's zoom meeting. My mom saw David in the hallway with the caregiver and WENT OFF "You stole my man!! He was going to come and lie with me in my bed tonight and you took him!!!"

Later on, in the middle of the Memorial Day concert downstairs, apparently mom had another outburst. She saw Big David, Mrs. Big David and the caregiver and yelled "Look at them!! Sitting there like fucking dogs!!" Our caregiver removed mom from the scene. 

You know? Language was a big deal in my family. I wasn't allowed to use the word "butt". My father actually made me bite down on a bar of soap when I said the word "shit" when I was 17. And now my mom is the queen of the f-bomb. And her devoted caregivers are nice church ladies, but luckily they have a generous sense of humor. One day recently my mom was telling her caregiver to fuck off. Apparently she responded "My daughter and I are married ladies and we know what that word means. We don't like it when you use that word." Man, I love them.

So we are all on the same page: medicate mom. It's time. She has medication, but when the physician's assistant told me that we could give more, something in me snapped. All of us are at a point where we can't cope with her verbal abuse any more. What I need to do (I drew the short straw) is to convey to mom's doctor that we've realized that we're at a new stage of the disease and that this weekend brought us to that realization. Mom is no longer going to have an active life but instead we need to seek a peaceful one for her. For mom -- imagine what it feels like to have these periods of agitation -- for her neighbors -- how horrible to have my mom be in their midst, judging them and yelling -- and for her caregiving team who get most of the abuse -- this has got to change. Until she's gone.