tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53433638916281217362024-03-19T03:48:47.258-04:00Dementia Thoughts...I began this journal to share my personal experiences as a caregiver. It is my hope and desire to develop a "community" with other caregivers to share advice, restore hope, and give encouragement. Please comment or submit a daily tip, your insight and thoughts are welcome...njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.comBlogger306125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-87633914361601347072010-05-30T11:17:00.004-04:002010-05-30T11:45:01.690-04:00The Next ChapterIt is with a sad heart that I write this post... Muddear left us yesterday to be with the Lord. While it sounds like a cliche even as I type, I know it is true - Muddear loved the Lord. I am thankful for the years I have had to care for Muddear. It was a shock to realize that I have cared for her for over 10 years. Five years in my home, a year and a half in the nursing home and almost five years while Muddear lived in her apartment after my grandfather died.<div><br /></div><div>Caregiving has many ups and downs. There were times when the responsibility became overwhelming and then there were times when her laughter made it all worthwhile. There were times when I wanted to give up and then I would see the recognition in Muddear's eyes that she knew who I was and where she lived and there was a squeeze in my heart. There were even times when I wanted my life back with the ability to come and go as I pleased. And then I would remember how sick and depressed she had become at the nursing home and knew God had set me on this path for a reason.</div><div><br /></div><div>For I know in my heart that being with Muddear, moving her into our home, prolonged her life by five years. As a grandparent she had given me many things. I was glad to have been able to give her those five years. That was the only thing she ever asked of me... "that if life would take a turn where she was unable to care for herself, could she live with me." I am glad that I was able to give Muddear that one thing. My life will have an empty spot that was once filled with caring for Muddear. I will miss her feisty personality, her stubbornness, and her joy. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am thankful to God for His grace and mercy that gave us the strength to care for her. I am thankful for the family members (especially Sheena) and friends that assisted us in times of need. I am thankful for every nurse's assistant (especially Sharon), social worker (especially Bonnie), and nurse that made up our support system. I pray that God blesses you 30, 60, and 100 fold for your kindness and generosity toward us and Muddear.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now we begin the next chapter in our lives. For five years, our lives have focused on two things: grandma and the kids. Grandma is no longer with us and the kids... well one is heading to college and the other has two years to go. My husband and I joked last night, that we could begin dating again. My heart fluttered!</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com220tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-33447616425866495222010-05-29T07:50:00.003-04:002010-05-29T07:58:50.029-04:00Hospital DischargeThis will just be a quick post for those that follow Dementia Thoughts. Almost two weeks ago, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Muddear</span> was discharged from the Hospital. Both the blood transfusion was successful as well as the round of antibiotics to cure the pneumonia. Unfortunately, a few days prior to discharge, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Muddear</span> took a downward turn and to date has not been able to recover.<div><br /></div><div>She is home with us and we have signed on with hospice to assist with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Muddear's</span> care. At this moment, although weak and non-responsive, she is resting peacefully and listening to the "spirituals" - Flossie's word for gospel music or any church related program on television.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will keep you posted on her condition.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-11786458655046217812010-05-27T23:50:00.011-04:002010-05-28T00:30:04.168-04:00Another Year Another Blood Transfusion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFa1yrEtZMO5TlWPGboKDg3mfnmcOYJV6lyUI_w9ajKLDrK46TFPrSqDM2WTqVC7unMjXcGE_TPEVW-2W8rc0LpOe0M_CAwjaNOCqqyFIfU2zH25z8mQgdN0YzcylR2jvM5dwUKVlczW5I/s1600/220px-PICCA2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFa1yrEtZMO5TlWPGboKDg3mfnmcOYJV6lyUI_w9ajKLDrK46TFPrSqDM2WTqVC7unMjXcGE_TPEVW-2W8rc0LpOe0M_CAwjaNOCqqyFIfU2zH25z8mQgdN0YzcylR2jvM5dwUKVlczW5I/s320/220px-PICCA2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476170578667809170" /></a>About three weeks ago, after Muddear's respite stay at Brookwood Retirement Community, it was time for a doctor's appointment. Thank goodness! I was worried that she was coming down with another upper respiratory infection - Muddear had been complaining of a severe sore throat and coughing.<br /><br />We utilize visiting physicians - what a blessing to have doctor's come to your home instead of the cumbersome job of transporting a wheelchair bound person from home to doctor and back again. The doctor - Dr. Amin - ordered chest x-rays, which thankfully came back negative. Additionally, I requested blood work, because it had been a few months since Muddear had blood tests. This is critical due to the sheer number of medications she has been prescribed. Surprisingly, Muddear's hemoglobin levels came back extremely low. As you know, Muddear is normally anemic, nevertheless I was quite surprised when the doctor advised that I should take Muddear to the hospital for a possible blood transfusion. Surprised, but not alarmed - we went through this same "exercise" in March of 2009.<br /><br />Typically, we take Muddear to Mercy Hospital - this time was no different. Let me take a moment to say kudos to Mercy's new ER check-in process. Within 30 minutes Muddear had a room and had been seen by an aide, her nurse, and the doctor! Never before have I received such speedy and attentive service in the emergency room. Kind of like an episode from Gray's Anatomy!<br /><br /><div>So fast forwarding this account...<br /><br />Muddear did in fact receive a blood transfusion. For those of you with small veins, be advised that if a small IV needle is used for your IV it is not large enough to accommodate a blood transfusion. A PICC Line (pictured in the beginning of the post), by definition and per its acronym, a peripherally inserted central catheter. It is long, slender, small, flexible tube that is inserted into a peripheral vein, typically in the upper arm, and advanced until the catheter tip terminates in a large vein in the chest near the heart to obtain intravenous access. It is similar to other central lines as it terminates into a large vessel near the heart. However, unlike other central lines, its point of entry is from the periphery of the body the extrem<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 187px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTlIrOMJrm9CBZKJwL29pBAJaRPwQ9pfn-G5o3yLOFjm49cG5_FpzM3P_DSOKhOWIVVMiwA-BW6Frt_k20DZnsY-05t4MEzXNAF3DpJgw9IJMJONNVHLDUEF9MEMBaxBcZE3osSLA7ZGZ/s200/1333.gif.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476171215893832386" />ities. And typicallythe upper arm is the area of choice. (This information was pulled from the website, PICC Line Nursing: http://picclinenursing.com/.<br /><br />Once inserted an x-ray must be conducted to confirm accurate placement - see picture to the right. I was once again surprised - this time to discover from the x-rays - that Muddear now had pneumonia. That is, however, a story for another day. With the PICC Line in position, Muddear was ready to receive her two units of blood. The procedure went incredibly well and Muddear was subsequently treated for pneumonia and later discharged, but not without some drama. That will be the subject of another post.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-25489109454906845252010-05-27T23:40:00.004-04:002010-05-27T23:49:55.433-04:00Graduation and Respite StaysI haven't posted in a few weeks. Things have been hectic in our household. <br /><br />Earlier this month, May 1st to be exact, I attended the official commencement ceremony for my Masters Degree. Yay!!!! We took grandma to a respite stay for the weekend. I tell you, Brookwood Retirement Community has become a strategic alliance. Unlike recent times past, we had no problems with Muddear's stay.<br /><br />We returned home with the things we packed. The nurses and aides were there waiting when we arrived. She was checked in and I was able to leave within 30 minutes. Nevertheless, we had a great weekend getaway - at least as great as you can driving up to Marion, Indiana on Saturday, May 1st for graduation and returning on May 2nd. There were, however, several highlights of the event. Obviously the graduation signifying the end of that chapter in my life. Additionally, meeting up with "friends" that I only new online. Putting a name with the face was great! Finally, having dinner with my online friends and their families.<br /><br />As always, I am thankful for respite stays that allow caregivers the opportunity to get away. If you are a caregiver, make sure you find out how you can take advantage of the benefits of a respite stay for your loved one.njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-83173177181064052522010-04-23T13:38:00.008-04:002010-04-23T14:09:16.709-04:00How the iPad Has Changed One 99-Year-Old Woman’s LifeThere are times when two mutually exclusive events collide to create unexpected yet amazing results. During the last few weeks there has been significant media coverage about the release of Apple's new iPad. Like many others, I eagerly anticipated the iPad, because of my love for new technology. Never in my wildest imagination did I consider the impact this new product could have on the life of an elderly person like, Virginia, the woman in this story written by Ben Parr at Mashable...<div><br /></div>"We’ve seen iPads and cats go viral. We’ve seen iPads and dogs go viral. But the latest iPad YouTube sensation is far more special: it depicts how the device has changed one 99-year-old woman’s life.<div><br />99-year-old Virgina Cambell of Lake Oswego, Oregon is an avid reader, according to The Oregonian. Unfortunately she has glaucoma, which affects her vision and makes it difficult for her to read books. Her solution? The iPad, which is her first computer according to the now-viral video depicting her with the device. Its ability to change fonts and increase screen brightness has given her the ability to read again. It has “changed her life,” according to one of her daughters.</div><div><br />She’s even used the device’s virtual keyvboard to write limericks, like this one about her new Apple tablet:<br /><br />To this technology-ninny it’s clear<br />In my compromised 100th year,<br />That to read and to write<br />Are again within sight<br />Of this Apple iPad pioneer.<br /><br />Apple has to be loving this type of free advertising for its newest product. With more stories like this one popping up every day, it’s no wonder Apple can’t keep up with iPad demand."</div><div><br /></div><div>Check out the video: <br /><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ndkIP7ec3O8&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ndkIP7ec3O8&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br />For caregivers, there is always joy to be found when a product or service changes the life of the one we love for the better. If you have a story of your own, please send to dementiathoughts@yahoo.com it would be a blessing to share with the readers of Dementia Thoughts.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-71870819538346935482010-04-19T23:32:00.004-04:002010-04-20T08:32:36.571-04:00Hair Net SurprisesMuddear wears a hairnet - 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. So imagine my surprise when I realized that she had removed her hairnet yesterday and sat around bareheaded all evening. Of course, if Muddear didn't mention the fact, I wasn't going to either.<div><br /></div><div>At bedtime, after assisting Muddear with changing from clothes to nightgown, I picked up her hairnet and proceeded to unfold it. It was then I realized the reason why Muddear was not wearing it. The hairnet was covered in feces! Apparently she did not see the toilet paper next to the bedside commode and commenced to utilize her hairnet to handle her business.</div><div><br /></div><div>So here is the insanity that travels from Dementia patients to their caregivers. I was disgusted by the feces covered hairnet, but thankful Muddear realized the need to clean herself by any means necessary. So I tossed the hairnet in the trash and life proceeded like normal... with a twist!</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-34018019324733690582010-04-16T14:10:00.004-04:002010-04-16T15:18:29.528-04:00Full MoonI have never been one to keep up with the cycles of the moon. I have no idea from one day to the next whether it's going to be a full moon, half moon, or quarter moon. However, the last full moon was on Tuesday, March 30, 2010. With the full moon came increased confusion for Muddear. For the sake of clarity, I am not saying there is a connection between Dementia and the lunar cycle. But, what I am saying, is that was the last time Muddear exhibited "normal", and I say that lightly, behavior.<div><br /></div><div>For almost two weeks Muddear has gone through cycles of non-eating and then eating again. Refusal to sleep for 24 hours straight to refusing to stay awake. Arguing and fussing non-stop to very short periods, and I mean short, periods of silence. Every other night Muddear barricaded the door with her wheelchair or tray table or anything else she could find. A few nights, Muddear completely trashed her room. The sheets were pulled off the bed, her clothes were pulled out of the drawers, and her furniture was rearranged. I'm still not sure how Muddear accomplished this feat! And then there were the nights she spent paranoid and full of fear.</div><div><br /></div><div>There have been no changes in Muddear's medication. Typically, when this type of behavior occurs, I request the doctor or nurse to conduct a urine culture to determine if Muddear has a urinary tract or bladder infection. This time I did not, because in the past, the answer has always been No. I will wait another week.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next full moon is supposed to occur on April 28, 2010. I can only hope that Muddear will return to "normal" before then.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-30712448627182249772010-04-05T11:48:00.006-04:002010-04-06T10:33:28.164-04:00Alzheimer's 2010 Facts and Figures by Angela Geiger<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Alzheimer’s disease has no boundaries. It crosses gender, race and age.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://act.alz.org/site/R?i=ctZJau-D5OpYB4FM7bRngw.."><img src="http://www.alz.org/email/factsNfigs/images/ff_sidebar.gif" border="0" alt="" hspace="6" width="400" height="209" align="right" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">According to the Alzheimer’s Association </span><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://act.alz.org/site/R?i=8iPsF4PwPb1df8dBNxaI0Q.."><span style="color: rgb(69, 93, 185); "><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">2010 Alzheimer’s Disease Facts and Figures </span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">report</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">, </span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">African-Americans are about two times more likely</span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> and </span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Hispanics are about one and one-half times more likely</span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> than their white counterparts to have Alzheimer’s and other dementias. In addition, in spite of their heightened prevalence, Hispanics and African-Americans are less likely than whites to have a diagnosis of the condition.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Also in the newly-released report, in 2009, nearly 11 million Alzheimer and dementia caregivers provided more than 12 billion hours of unpaid care totaling $144 billion.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://act.alz.org/site/R?i=5SBn0RMFjPU8DvP0KxWE1Q.."><em><span style="color: rgb(69, 93, 185); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Facts and Figures</span></span></em></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> is filled with up-to-date statistics that expose Alzheimer’s as the </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1270482251_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">public health threat</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> it is today, addressing the growing impact of the disease on the American people – both those living with Alzheimer’s and those providing care to a loved one.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Download your complimentary copy of the </span><em><a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://act.alz.org/site/R?i=Xwshe_ieBF4ed-p8zPjBbg.."><span style="color: rgb(69, 93, 185); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">2010 Alzheimer’s Disease Facts and Figures</span></span></a></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> today to learn more.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Stay involved. Know the facts. Be a voice for change.</span></p></span>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-57239225477469361862010-03-21T16:25:00.004-04:002010-03-21T16:59:26.477-04:00The Man Peeping In the Window<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqXgQxpTP6t8Ox1j9doUxQCBbBXKfRVCgXto5sVmgYy0lM06u99m-XRiPRdxPiV2Xl0emB6NXiBUC7ZlHvvdm_pHox-C8X0Cy2YhHULY_zixXUGNybvQBQ5swLSq1dNgVLaullBGx-9Hx/s1600-h/250px-Little_tootie.JPG.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqXgQxpTP6t8Ox1j9doUxQCBbBXKfRVCgXto5sVmgYy0lM06u99m-XRiPRdxPiV2Xl0emB6NXiBUC7ZlHvvdm_pHox-C8X0Cy2YhHULY_zixXUGNybvQBQ5swLSq1dNgVLaullBGx-9Hx/s320/250px-Little_tootie.JPG.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451194486499572162" /></a>It is truly hard to imagine the impact that Dementia/Alzheimer's Disease has on the mind until you have an opportunity to experience it first hand. In January of this year, I purchased <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Muddear</span> a new calendar. Normally, I purchase a wall calendar full of pictures - from flowers, to landscapes, they are always quite beautiful. This year, I purchased <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Muddear's</span> 2010 calendar a little later than usual, which meant the selection was less diverse than normal. Nevertheless, I found an adorable calendar full of pictures of puppy dogs. Cute right? <div><br /></div><div>Wrong! The calendar lasted no more than two months. About once a week, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Muddear</span> would come into the hallway and start calling us in a panic. "Come quick, there is a man peeping in my window!" Of course, I tried to reason with her by explaining...</div><br /><div>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Muddear</span>, your room is on the second floor, it isn't possible for someone to peep in your window." That didn't work. Therefore, I went into her room to explain further. It was then that I realized <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">every time</span> that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Muddear</span> thought the calendar was a window and the puppy picture was a man. Initially, I thought she would get used to the calendar and these panic attacks would stop. They never did. So today, after about eight (8) weeks - the calendar was removed and I'll have to purchase a new one tomorrow.</div><br /><div>When someone has Dementia/ Alzheimer's Disease there are times when the simplest things can be very challenging. This situation was definitely a learning experience for me. It is important to keep things as simple as possible for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Muddear</span>. There are things that she remembers fairly well - like her daily routine. That is because we keep <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Muddear</span> on a regular schedule - bath's on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with wash-ups on Tuesday and Thursday; towel folding on Thursdays; breakfast at 9:00 and lunch at 12:30; calendars with flowers and landscapes. No Changes. A calendar with puppy dogs was apparently too much change - I should have figured that out immediately instead of causing weekly panic attacks. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Muddear</span>, I am very sorry!</div><div><br /></div><div><i>*Image courtesy of Wikipedia</i></div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-2547799406457407682010-03-15T15:18:00.003-04:002010-03-15T16:50:14.098-04:00I'm Backkkkkkkkkk!Of course, I recognize that my aide deserves to go on vacation, just like the rest of us. Nevertheless, I always dread the week I know she will be gone. Over the years, Sharon has become part of the family - she knows our schedules and we know hers. I believe, we have a great partnership. Some may say we are picky or quirky about the care of Muddear, but I say that's okay, we have a right to be. Sharon agrees with this sentiment.<div><br /></div><div>Every time a new aide arrives it is like starting over from scratch and we lose that comfortableness that we share with Sharon. This week wasn't any different. Two aides were assigned to cover Sharon's time, but for some odd reason, the agency only scheduled 38 hours of coverage instead of 40. To begin with, the aides were late two days and that's just the beginning of the story.</div><div><br /></div><div>To protect the innocent, I'll call the first aide Sandy and the second Jamie. Jamie was supposed to work on Tuesday and Wednesday from 8:30 to 4:30. I asked if she could stay until 5:30 to which she responded "no" for Tuesday and "yes" for Wednesday. On Wednesday, during the middle of the day Jamie called my husband at work stating she needed to leave early, but needed to make sure someone would be home. What? </div><div><br /></div><div>I was sick on Monday and Tuesday and therefore was home all day. Thank goodness! Jamie didn't bring lunch on Tuesday and needed to leave to pick up something - the agency never notified her that Flossie could not be home alone. Huh?</div><div><br /></div><div>Sandy was the aid for Monday, Thursday and Friday. Ironically, she had no lunch on Monday either - for the exact same reason stated by Jamie. On Wednesday, I received a phone call from the agency that Sandy needed to leave early on Thursday, but would make up her hours on Friday. No problem, I thought, I can work with that. Unfortunately, on Thursday she had a family issue that required her to leave after only a half day at work. Friday morning I received a phone call from the agency - Sandy called in. Great! Especially, since she had not completed half of the items requested.</div><div><br /></div><div>To top matters off, it seemed like the aides were afraid to make decisions on their own. I recognize that Flossie was a new client for both of them, BUT... while I was sick Jamie knocked on my door to show me how much Flossie ate for lunch. She wanted to make sure she had eaten enough. Why do I have to make that determination? Common sense would say "no" if Flossie ate less than half of her lunch or "yes" if she ate more than half. If no, save the rest and offer later when inevitably Muddear will be hungry again.</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning was Sharon's first day back. When I caught a glimpse of her, Sharon's first words were... "I'm Backkkkkkkkkk!"</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-27904872818468851302010-02-22T14:28:00.002-05:002010-02-22T14:35:50.144-05:00Hunger StrikesGrandma is back to her old tricks... For about a month now, I have noticed that Muddear has been extra finicky about eating. Breakfast is quite a small meal - nothing unusual. Lunch has become her largest meal of the day with a small snack between lunch a dinner. But dinner? Well that's a crap shoot. Many days Muddear simply refuses to eat dinner. Some days she sucks her meal down as though she is starving. However, last week, the aid discovered Muddear's little treasure chest of discarded dinners! Under the futon mattress Muddear hid at least five dinners. Obviously not the entire meal - it's always the meat portion. A piece of chicken, a hamburger, half of a pork chop... each meticulously wrapped up in a wad of Kleenex! She then pushes around on her plate the vegetables and whatever else we fixed for dinner as though she has eaten something. We've been duped again!<div><br /></div><div>What is a caregiver to do?</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-16973978510819106472010-01-25T10:17:00.000-05:002010-01-25T10:18:02.715-05:00To Depend or Not To Depend<div>One night, I awoke to Muddear screaming something unintelligible about using the bathroom. Usually Muddear does not have problems with incontinence, but you never know what's new with Dementia.</div><div><br /></div><div>I scrambled blindly into her bedroom only to find myself standing barefoot in a puddle of water. Or so I wished. Immediately it was obvious that I was standing in a pudding of urine. Why me? Muddear was sitting in her wheelchair covered in urine. For about 30 seconds I thanked God that we had the aforethought to cover her carpet with plastic after the last cleaning. However, those positive feelings ended as quickly as they begin - I returned to reality. The reality that I was standing in a puddle of urine that quickly needed to be cleaned.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I began the process of cleaning up the puddles, and I mean this literally, of urine off the floor. While in the midst of disinfecting, Muddear begins to yell that she has to go the bathroom again - is it possible she has anything left?</div><div><br /></div><div>"Muddear, please hold on for just a few minutes."</div><div>"No, I can't! Watch!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Within seconds, I was horrified. Muddear began to urinate in her wheelchair, all over herself, and all over the floor. It was now about 4:30 a.m., I was exhausted, and all the puddles I had just cleaned up had returned. As you can guess, I spent another hour and a half drying and disinfecting the floor, cleaning up Muddear, changing her clothes and the sheets, and placing all of the urine soaked items in the washing machine.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sure you are wondering... why don't you put Depends on Muddear. Periodically, I ask myself the same question. The problem... Muddear refuses to wear them. Initially, after incidents like those above (which thankfully are far and few in between), Muddear will agree to wear Depends for about a day or two. However, Dementia kicks in and as far as Muddear is concerned the incident never occurred and she has no idea why we are treating her with such injustice. We put the Depend on Muddear at bedtime, but as soon as we leave her room she takes the Depend off and hides it.</div><div><br /></div><div>What do we do?</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-20651695769906124752010-01-23T14:07:00.006-05:002010-01-23T14:45:20.471-05:00Accidentally Outrageous Flirting<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>A few months have passed since my last post. Classes end on January 25th and I will be FREE from school! Thank the LORD! So let me catch you up on what's been happening with Muddear lately...<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Every other Wednesday evening, I have a hair appointment - my personal luxury. My hubby get to granny-sit on those nights. Of course, after feeding Muddear dinner, Mike sat in her room to watch television. Nothing unusual, right?</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Upon my return from the hair salon, Mike came into our bedroom to talk to me. That is when the drama began.</div><br /><div>"Mike? Where are you Mike?"</div><div>"What do you need Muddear?"</div><div>"Come here."</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Considering Muddear was already in the bed and Mike had just left her room, we figured she didn't really need anything. Boy were we surprised...</div><div><br /></div><div>"Mike why don't you sit down?"</div><div>"Muddear, I was just sitting in here. Nikki is home, so I am going to sit with her."</div><div>"Mike, I want you to sit with me. Come over here and sit on the bed."</div><div>"Sit on the bed? You never want me to sit on the bed."</div><div>"I want to talk to you."</div><div>"Okay, I'll sit for a minute."</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>For about five minutes, Mike sat with Muddear and asked her multiple times what she wanted to talk about. But Muddear never explained what she wanted to talk about, instead I was surprised to hear Mike say...</div><div><br /></div><div>"Muddear, why are you rubbing my arm?" (There was no response, just giggles.)</div><div>"Muddear, why are you rubbing my arm? (giggle) Okay, since you won't tell me, I am going back in my room."</div><div>"Where are you going, Mike?"</div><div>"I am going to my room."</div><div>"Well, I'm coming to your room with you."</div><div>"Muddear, I'm getting in the bed."</div><div>"Oh, well, I'm going to get in the bed with you."</div><div>"So you are going to get in the bed with me and my wife?"</div><div>Again, Muddear started giggling.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>At this point, I am cracking up laughing and Mike looks incredibly uncomfortable as he walks into our bedroom. I couldn't believe nor make heads or tails about why Muddear was outrageously flirting. And then she begins again...</div><div><br /></div><div>"Mike... I'm coming to get in the bed with you."</div><div>"Muddear, I'm getting in the bed with my wife so you need to stay in your bed."</div><div>Muddear giggles.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>You probably would not believe me if I said this went on for at least an hour, but it did. Finally, Muddear says...</div><div><br /></div><div>"You wife? Oh Lord! I thought you were my husband!" She giggled again and went to bed.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It is unbelievable what Alzheimer's and Dementia can do to the mind. As caregivers we just love and laugh our loved ones through these times.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-35125723800573569972009-12-06T21:13:00.010-05:002009-12-07T16:11:07.275-05:0098 Birthday Wishes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyk75bcTdQuV-k0JW_Ui7swbWIwTRLmEbqPTzTRCO9CnAHKNPyOJLcRyxpFxaYQZRjNulzNs1LpgYzi06s_qKW5D2p_cHICVqyBOqndlaWMip92foELTu-km3uiZqJT7nZw_oxYqufPi16/s1600-h/FD000647.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyk75bcTdQuV-k0JW_Ui7swbWIwTRLmEbqPTzTRCO9CnAHKNPyOJLcRyxpFxaYQZRjNulzNs1LpgYzi06s_qKW5D2p_cHICVqyBOqndlaWMip92foELTu-km3uiZqJT7nZw_oxYqufPi16/s200/FD000647.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412315924704025042" /></a><br />It has been awhile since I've posted. Thank you very much to those of you who reached out to me to check on Muddear. I appreciate your concern and kindness.<div><br /></div><div>There is so much to tell, but I won't spill the beans all in one sitting. First things first...</div><div><br /></div><div>Muddear celebrated another birthday on October 30, 2009. Believe it or not, she is officially <b>98 years old</b>! What an amazing life she has lived. As always, we took Muddear out to dinner to celebrate. The only thing she likes better than going out to dinner is shopping, but it was not a shopping kind of day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Our restaurant of choice was a repeat of last year - TGI Fridays. This year, Muddear ordered the Jack Daniels Ribs and Shrimp meal. I'm sure you are not surprised - Muddear LOVES ribs and we make sure every birthday she gets an order. Anyone who has ordered any of the ribs meals from TGI Friday's knows that the plate is huge and overflowing with food. Muddear almost had an asthma attack when her plate arrived. After calming her down with numerous reassurances that anything left uneaten could be taken home, dinner proceeded without a hitch.</div><div><br /></div><div>The "cutest" event of the night... When the servers came out singing the Happy Birthday song, poor Muddear didn't realize they were singing to her! She just kept looking around as though she were thinking... "what are they saying? And why are they standing there?" At then end of the song, Muddear accepted her dessert and asked, "Is this for me?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Overall, we had a great evening out. I have noticed recently, that Muddear prefers shorter outings and dinner was the perfect duration. Dinner, dessert, presents and then we were out the door.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Happy Birthday Muddear!</b></div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-29882417673004993862009-06-01T21:39:00.003-04:002009-06-01T21:48:01.442-04:00The TruthWhen dealing with Alzheimer's and Dementia patients, when does one tell the truth?<div><br /></div><div>Today, since I arrived home from work, Muddear has asked me on numerous occasions... "Where is my baby?" I tried to rationalize with her, but of course it didn't work. I would ask, "Muddear, how old are you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"That doesn't matter. Where is my baby?"</div><div>"But, it does matter. You are 97 years old, there is no way that you have babies. They are all grown."</div><div>"No they are not. Where are my babies?"</div><div><br /></div><div>A little later, I tried again to rationalize with Muddear as she asked...</div><div><br /></div><div>"Did somebody take my babies?"</div><div>"Of course not Muddear, your babies are adults now."</div><div>"No they are not."</div><div>"Muddear, tell me something, when did you start having babies?"</div><div>"Oh when I was about 79."</div><div>"Now Muddear, you know you didn't have babies at 79. That's too old - not just for you, but no one has babies at 79."</div><div><br /></div><div>It is almost 10:00 p.m. and this issue is still not resolved. She keeps asking us... "Where is my baby?" Should we play along with her? I fear that this would create even more problems.</div><div><br /></div><div>What do you think?</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-28004730448114457242009-05-30T12:42:00.005-04:002009-05-30T13:26:53.257-04:00Words Cannot Express...I am so looking forward to a peaceful weekend. Last weekend was not peaceful in the least bit. Muddear was extremely disoriented and confused. First, I don't think she slept all weekend. Some say it must have been due to the full moon; however, I need a better explanation than that. Sleep deprivation was only the beginning of my troubles.<div><br /></div><div>For about the last 8 months, Muddear is mysteriously sick every Saturday. Truthfully, I don't believe she is sick - I think she misses Sharon, the aide. It just doesn't make sense that every Saturday, no matter how wonderful she felt the day and night before, Muddear wakes up sick and cannot bear to get out of bed. Not only is she "unable" to get out of bed, Muddear wants to sleep all day long. This means I am constantly waking her up and getting her out of bed in the midst of cooking, cleaning, and doing homework. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last Saturday started this way, but unfortunately never ended, because Muddear never went to bed. Of course, at the crack of dawn on Sunday, Muddear wanted attention and began yelling. Jumping out of bed, I went into her room where immediately I was greeted by a huge wet spot on the floor. Yes, I was weirded out - who knows what the wet spot contained? After doing the "pat and sniff test" I was somewhat convinced it was water and placed a towel on the floor to soak up the mess. Fortunately, straightening up Muddear's room only took a few minutes and getting her back in the bed took even less time. At that point, it was 6:00 a.m. and I was in no shape to wake up for the day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Later, Sunday afternoon I began the process of cleaning and dressing Muddear to go to my family cookout. Upon opening the closet door to retrieve an outfit I was greeted by the foul smell of urine. The wet spot I mistakenly assumed to be water had to of contained urine.While we managed to get through the rest of the day with little incident, much to my dismay, Muddear refused to sleep again Sunday night. This time, unlike Saturday night, she was loud and kept us up all night. Between opening and slamming doors in her room to busting down the baby gate we use to keep her in the room, to sneaking out in the hallway and banging on the kids bedroom doors, I may have slept a total of 2 hours. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sharon, the aide never takes off on holidays except Christmas, thus I was ecstatic when she arrived on Monday morning - Memorial Day. Mike and I slept a couple more hours and together escaped until it was time for Sharon to leave. That is, not before Sharon advised that when she went into Muddear's room it looked like it had been ransacked! Muddear had pretty much stripped down naked - taken the covers off her bed and crawled onto the futon in her room (a place she NEVER sleeps on). The icing on the cake... Muddear had removed her Depends and urinated into a box of tissues.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just don't understand.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-11956354012637553172009-05-16T17:09:00.004-04:002009-05-17T13:52:53.884-04:00Back AgainObviously I am back from Vegas and The World Tea Expo. This post is just a little late... sorry for the delay. I personally had a fantastic time at the Expo. My dear husband on the other hand, I fear did not enjoy himself quite as much. However, I appreciate the fact that he went purely for me.<div><br /></div><div>While away, I was thankful that I did not receive any phone calls from Brookwood regarding Muddear. There have been other occasions when taken to respite that Muddear is not enthusiastic about having to stay and becomes difficult. This was not one of those times. However, when I arrived to pick Muddear up, I became concerned.</div><div><br /></div><div>First, I noticed that Muddear was wearing the same thing I dropped her off in - quite disconcerting. When I checked her clothes, I noticed that four (4) of the five outfits I brought for her were folded exactly the same way as when I unpacked them. I was livid! How is it that Muddear had not been changed for several days? When I questioned the staff, they lied and said that they knew for a fact that she had been changed. Her clothes were folded because they had been laundered. Of course, I said... "That is is not true - how would your laundry department know to fold her clothes exactly the way I had folded them when I left? Impossible!" So I asked to speak to the aide who dressed her for the day - Tuesday. She had not worked with Muddear over the weekend, therefore she could only speak for that day. When asked why Muddear was dressed in dirty clothes, the aide explained... "When I asked Ms. Flossie what she wanted to wear, she said she wanted to wear the outfit she now has on."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Did you know that she has Dementia and would not have known that you were asking her to put on dirty clothes?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, I didn't know that."</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, I asked to speak to the unit nurse. Once in the room, she too initially fed me a lie - however, I quickly discovered that she was simply repeating the lie that had been told to her. When I again explained the problem AS WELL AS the soiled nightgowns and underwear I found on the closet floor she changed her tune and advised that she would investigate the matter. She immediately agreed, especially when I reiterated my understanding of their policy, that dirty clothes are to be separated from clean clothes. Especially when soiled as they represent an infectious disease hazard. While we (Mike and I) finished packing Muddear's belongings the Unit Nurse returned to say that Muddear had not been dressed because she wanted to stay in her nightgowns. (Okay no problem.) Unfortunately, that did not explain the soiled gowns and underwear lying on the closet floor or the fact that she was dressed in dirty clothes - to wit I was told the aides would be reprimanded via a formal write-up of their performance. Although, I find it sad that the aide's are always the one's to receive the only reprimand. What about the nurses that enter the room to give meds and check vitals? Did they not notice the nasty clothes on the floor?</div><div><br /></div><div>Nevertheless, I received a letter of apology - also advising that Muddear had not been bathed properly either. But I'm still pissed. While this is truly the first bad experience I've had with Brookwood it still does not negate the fact that Muddear should have had better care.</div><div><br /></div><div>Things that make you go hmmmm...</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-7504840216359633932009-04-30T22:03:00.006-04:002009-04-30T22:19:18.165-04:00Respite, Vegas, and the World Tea ExpoI should be packing, instead I am creating a quick blog post. This weekend, I am attending the World Tea Expo in Las Vegas. Yeah, I'm sure I sound like a nerd, I really can't help it. I love tea and simply couldn't pass up the Expo. It's amazing the things you can develop an interest in when your time outside of the house is limited. If you are interested in more details you can follow my adventures on <a href="http://TeaEscapade.wordpress.com/">Tea Escapade</a>.<div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div>Needless to say, a trip out of town means a respite stay for Muddear. In some respects, respite stays are so much easier than before although I still have that twinge of guilt every time I leave Muddear. Thank goodness Brookwood Retirement Community makes the transition easy. They know us now so scheduling, drop off and pick up are a breeze.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Muddear was so funny. When I arrived home from work, I reminded her that we would be leaving soon. After packing and loading Muddear into the car, we start to talk... <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>"Now where are you going?"</div><div>"Las Vegas."<br /></div><div>"Sho'nuff?"</div><div>"Yep! I am really looking forward to the trip. I have never been to Vega before."</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Upon arrival at Brookwood, I wait for Muddear to finish eating dinner - we stopped at Wendy's on the way. I kissed her on the head and told her I was leaving. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Well, why are you leaving me here?"</div><div>"Remember, Mike and I are going out of town."</div><div>"I know, but I thought I was going too."</div><div>"Not this time, but don't worry - we won't be gone long."</div><div>"I'll be praying for you... take my prayers with you."</div><div>"I will and I'll be praying for you too."</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>That's the first time Muddear ever questioned whether she was traveling with us or not. I wasn't sure if she was serious or joking. Who really knows?</div></div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-85942791154652785792009-04-24T23:25:00.002-04:002009-04-24T23:29:34.627-04:00Finally... RestThe last few nights have been fabulous! No late night <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">rendezvous</span> with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Muddear</span>. No severe confusion, just back to the normal degree of confusion. Simply peaceful sleep, night after night. Oh how sweet it is to experience a good night's sleep. It is truly amazing the things we consider luxuries as caregivers as well as the levels of insanity we consider normal. I appreciate it all - <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">being</span> a caregiver has made me a better person. <div><br /></div><div>Okay... rambling complete!</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-74694190605749562312009-04-19T14:42:00.005-04:002009-04-19T15:20:38.328-04:00Long NightsThe past few nights, Muddear hasn't been sleeping well, which means we haven't been sleeping well. Last night, Muddear used her wheelchair to barricade her bedroom door multiple times. Each time I tried to enter her bedroom, I could barely open the door because she was sitting in the wheelchair behind the door. Either Mike or I would move her chair, but nothing would stop Muddear, even Mike physically lifting Muddear out of the wheelchair and into the bed.<div><br /></div><div>Sometime around 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. this morning, I awoke to Muddear yelling. Once again, I was barely able to enter the bedroom, because this time, Muddear's wheelchair was behind the door while Muddear sat yelling from her shower chair across the room. Her room was in somewhat disarray so I took a few minutes to do an assessment. That was when I noticed Muddear's trash can contained liquid instead of the normal garbage bag. You guessed correctly, grandma urinated in the trash can. All I could ask is why?</div><div><br /></div><div>Muddear explained that she could not see the the commode. Although, I struggle with that train of thought... how could she NOT see the rather large bedside commode but could see the little trash can? After some additional questioning as well as observation, I discovered that Muddear had also urinated partially on the floor. There I was - somewhere between 3:00 and 4:00 a.m. cleaning Muddear's room and fussing. I was really bothered by her behavior. Finally, Mike came to Muddear's room - I think first to provide morale support and second to tell me to come back to bed, because he said...</div><div><br /></div><div>"Nikki, you sound like you are arguing with a little kid. Put a depend on her and come back to bed."</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning after thinking more about the situation, I plan to purchase Muddear a nightlight for her bedroom, even though she has a lamp on her nightstand beside the bed. Additionally, I thought more about her medicine schedule - it was off yesterday, which may have contributed to her confusion. Whatever the cause, I pray for a good night's sleep tonight.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-10717443528933838522009-04-16T19:51:00.004-04:002009-04-16T20:03:01.517-04:00ConfusedPoor Muddear has been experiencing increased confusion again. Not as bad as when she was admitted into Mercy Hospital, but definite confusion. Immediately after arriving home from work this evening, I was chatting with my family before changing clothes and finishing the dinner Mariah started. Nothing unusual right? That is until Little Mike went upstairs to his bedroom and immediately ran back downstairs.<div><br /></div><div>"You are not going to believe this!"</div><div>"What?", we said in unison.</div><div>"Muddear is in your room sitting in the laundry basket!"</div><div>"What!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course we all ran upstairs to see for ourselves and sure enough there was Muddear, in my bedroom, sitting in the laundry basket full of clothes. When I asked her what she was doing, Muddear, politely said she was looking for the stove parts she purchased earlier today.</div><div><br /></div><div>Funny!</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-27147958114353952122009-03-24T20:45:00.007-04:002009-03-28T14:04:06.919-04:00Grandma's Gone WildThe last couple of weeks have been incredibly trying for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Muddear</span>. Her behavior became increasingly odd. It is not unusual for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Muddear</span> to be confused, sometimes hallucinate, or even become verbally aggressive. However, we knew something was seriously wrong when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Muddear</span> became physically aggressive. Needless to say, after several days passed and she intentionally hit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Mariah</span> several times, little Mike at least once, and the aide... well, I contacted her doctor's office.<div><br /></div><div>A nurse practitioner was sent to the house to draw blood samples. The results... dehydration. Apparently, dehydration can cause erratic behavior, especially in those with Dementia and/or Alzheimer's Disease. We decided to aggressively push fluids for a couple of days while keeping a close eye on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Muddear</span> with the hope the dehydration would subside. It didn't and we ended up in Mercy Hospital's emergency room. </div><div><br /></div><div>Six hours later and after numerous tests, including chest X-rays, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Muddear</span> was admitted into Mercy Hospital. Prognosis - severe dehydration, caused by severe anemia, caused by internal bleeding. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Muddear</span> has always been anemic with a baseline anemia of 9.52 - I really don't know what that means, but the doctors say that the normal baseline for women is 12. A "normal" baseline for anemia is between 10 and 11. When tested at the hospital, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Muddear's</span> anemia level hovered around 7. Treatment - blood transfusion. After receiving two pints of blood, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Muddear's</span> levels increased to 13 - above the normal range for women. The conclusion was that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Muddear's</span> internal bleeding was slow at best. Based upon her age and medical condition, any further treatment for internal bleeding would probably be more intrusive than what she would be physically able to handle.</div><div><br /></div><div>After two days in the hospital, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Muddear</span> appeared (she didn't realize she was sick) to be feeling and looking much better. Thankfully, she was no longer hitting, but still thoroughly confused. I'll keep you posted on her progress.</div><div><br /></div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-52560674038557703242009-03-09T21:24:00.004-04:002009-03-09T21:36:08.765-04:00Grease In My Soup<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9ubixMXjARDz2XBTrmdXt4JcFUGQKpYtknqwwVaZJWolO5UpGt30JJFXfP-FPDfMKp6_zVlwDTXYO5WXLvm8YGsG3WiM8WDS7y1IcFqA3Aa6f-0VOBvT1G_-jO-vxf78fLvTIhyny_XE/s1600-h/2314.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 244px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9ubixMXjARDz2XBTrmdXt4JcFUGQKpYtknqwwVaZJWolO5UpGt30JJFXfP-FPDfMKp6_zVlwDTXYO5WXLvm8YGsG3WiM8WDS7y1IcFqA3Aa6f-0VOBvT1G_-jO-vxf78fLvTIhyny_XE/s320/2314.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311366842117705650" /></a><br />You never quite know what is going on in the mind of a Dementia/Alzheimer's patient. On Sunday, I made <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Muddear</span> soup for lunch. Nothing unusual, just a bowl of Campbell's Potato Soup with cheese and Club crackers. Sounds <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">delish</span>, huh?<div><br /></div><div>Immediately after giving <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Muddear</span> the soup and leaving her room, she begins to call for help. Mike was the first to respond... wow I love him. After chatting with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Muddear</span> a few minutes, about who knows what, Mike begins calling me to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Muddear's</span> room. Why? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Muddear</span> is refusing to eat her soup. She accused me of putting grease in it! After trying for 10 minutes to reason with her, without much success, I removed the bowl of soup. According to Mike... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Muddear</span> thought the potatoes were lumps of grease!</div><div><br /></div><div>Some things simply cannot be explained! </div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-73569638072508564322009-03-07T10:05:00.002-05:002009-03-07T10:18:11.893-05:00Muddear UpdatesI know, its been awhile since posting. Overall Muddear has been doing very well. In the last couple of months we did another respite stay. No complaints - we combined the stay to accommodate for my business trip to Texas which fell right before Mike's birthday weekend. We had a nice long weekend celebrating Mike without worrying about getting a granny-sitter; how long she could or could not stay; or how much we would have to pay. We had a whole day of snow tubing at Perfect North Slopes and dinner. It was a blast!<div><br /></div><div>Because I was out of town, Mike dropped Muddear off at Brookwood Retirement Community without a hitch. Now I'm thinking he should do so more often, considering Muddear traumatizes me when I drop her off. I had pick-up duty, which I was more than happy to do as it is usually the easy part of the respite stay experience for me. As expected, Muddear was all smiles, albeit more than ready to come home.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's all for now. I must do better keeping up with my posts.</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5343363891628121736.post-49203573445472668922008-12-08T20:37:00.002-05:002008-12-08T20:57:16.571-05:00Sore GumsWe all know that Muddear doesn't have any teeth, nor does she have dentures. This has never posed a problem with Muddear's eating habits. She eats fried chicken, potato chips, crackers, cookies and everything crunchy in between. However, every now and then, Muddear will refuse to eat a meal (or several meals) because her gums are sore. For the most part, I try to be very understanding of this, until I feel like Muddear is pulling my leg.<div><br /></div><div>For example, on Saturday I made Cream of Wheat for breakfast. For anyone who has never enjoyed a steaming bowl of Cream of Wheat... it is very soft and creamy. You can eat an entire bowl of Cream of Wheat without taking a single bite. Simply open your mouth and swallow. Thus, I am sure you can imagine my surprise when Muddear told me she could not eat her breakfast (Cream of Wheat) because her gums were sore. I began to wonder, how many times has Muddear refused to eat by using the "sore gums" excuse? I was completely tickled to realize... Muddear's been pulling my leg!</div>njmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14389032700779445252noreply@blogger.com0