Long Nights

The 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.

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?

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...

"Nikki, you sound like you are arguing with a little kid. Put a depend on her and come back to bed."

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.

Forgetting

Sometimes it's easy to forget how good you've got it until it's gone. For months, I have enjoyed the pleasure of a good night sleep. Muddear has slept peacefully and soundly throughout the night for more months than I can remember (during 2008 only). I had begun to forget the previously experienced sleepless nights and groggy days reminiscent of times passed.

Last night I went to bed exhausted as usual, following a full day, and fell asleep immediately. This was around midnight. Around 4:00 a.m., Muddear awoke and began to call...

"Lady! Lady!... Come in here lady."

The "Noooo, say it isn't so" began to register in my brain. Stumbling blindly towards Muddear's room, I discovered her standing in the hallway with her cane - albeit using the wall to hold her up, because she needs a wheelchair. Over the years, Muddear has only managed to walk 5 feet or less with the use of  a walker. After maneuvering Muddear back to her wheelchair, I explained unsuccessfully that it was the middle of the night and time for her to get back in the bed. Of course, I practically ran back to my room to get back in the bed. Not understanding why Muddear had decided it was time for her to go home, now!

Within minutes I was startled awake by Muddear yelling, "Lady!... Lady!" Desperate for sleep, I ignored the call hoping she would get in the bed and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, that did not occur. Sometime after 5:00 a.m., I found myself stumbling blindly back toward Muddear's room when I realized she was banging her cane against the wall to get attention. Once I identified who I was - her granddaughter - Muddear thanked me for taking care of her, hugged me and returned to bed. I thought... is that all it takes? A simple reminder of who I am? Just kidding, I am not that naive.

After dozing off, I was once again started awake by Muddear yelling... "Lady!... Lady!" Again, I waited to see if she would go back to sleep. And then my alarm clock began to ring. How could I have forgotten about these sleepless nights?

Visiting Phil...Or Not?

Saturday Mike and I went to the high school football games held at the NFL stadium. It was football all day...baby! My sister Lisa was the granny-sitter. She called us several times while we were gone, because she was concerned that Muddear refused to get out of bed. Muddear wanted to sleep all day, which is quite unusual for her. On the weekends after breakfast, we may allow Muddear to go back to sleep until 1:00 o'clock in the afternoon. However, she either wakes up on her own or we rouse her out of bed to start the day without any problems.

Unfortunately, I think being in bed all day long screws up Muddear's internal clock. At close to 11:00 p.m. Saturday night Muddear decided it was time for dinner! Not happening...I gave her a snack and she went right to sleep. Note to self...no more sleeping all day for Muddear.

Needless to say, when Sunday rolled around, I had no intentions on letter Muddear sleep away the day again. No more midnight snacks! All week I planned to take her to see Philip, therefore during breakfast I started to discuss the day's plans with Muddear. To my surprise, Muddear was exhibiting the same behavior as the day before. Not only did she not want to get out of bed, she also did not want to go see Philip. Obviously this was very disconcerting as Muddear ALWAYS wants to see Phil.

I decided to let her sleep in, but I will keep an eye on her for the next few days. Hopefully this was just a fluke.

Stealing Again...

Muddear woke up about 3:00 a.m. this morning to use her bedside commode. While on the commode she starts yelling for help, stating that she cannot breathe. As usual, I reminded Muddear that the oxygen cannula was sitting on the top of her head. Once settled, I left her room to return to bed.

Within five minutes Muddear was yelling for help again! I went back into Muddear's room only to find her sitting on the commode with her left leg across her lap, while digging in her sock.

"What is wrong Muddear? Why are you yelling?"

"Somebody stole my money!"

"Muddear nobody stole your money. It is in the middle of the night and I am going back to bed."

"Yes they did steal my money! Whoever put me to bed took my money out of my sock!"

"Muddear, you put yourself to bed. How do you think someone stole money out of your sock while your foot was in it?"

"Yes they did! Yes they did take my money! I did not put myself to bed!"

"Muddear, I am not going to argue with you. If you don't stop yelling, I am going to shut your door - the kids are sleep and it is a school night."

"I don't care about the kids being sleep! I want my money back!"

I left the room and shut the door, while Muddear yelled at the top of her lungs! How can I convince Muddear that we are not stealing her money?

Stealing

Last month, Wednesday, August 29, 2007, in Money...Money...Money...M-O-N-E-Y I wrote about Muddear's obsession with money and how against my better judgment, I gave her $10.00 dollars. In Faster Than Expected posted on Monday, September 3, 2007, I shared that within five days, Muddear had lost $5.00 of the $10.00 dollars I had given her.

On Saturday, September 22, 2007, as expected and less than 30 days from the initial post, Mike and I have officially become thieves. It all began so innocently...I was sick and Mike spent the day running back and forth to Muddear's room fulfilling her every wish. Around 8:00 p.m. after dispensing medication, Muddear began calling Mike. She said she needed a new sock, because her sock was wet. That was when Mike discovered that Muddear's housecoat had fallen into her bedside commode and was dripping urine down her leg and onto her feet. (I know - bad visual) After cleaning everything, including Muddear's legs, Mike also helped Muddear change socks. Then the drama began...

"Mike come in here! I need you to come in here!"

"What's wrong Muddear?"

"I'm missing something. It was in my sock. Give me my sock back."

"Muddear, what are you missing? I will check your sock."

"Just give me my sock!"

"Muddear there is nothing in it. What did you have in your sock?"

"My money! Give me my money!"

"I don't have your money. That is why Nikki gave you a container to place your money in - so you wouldn't lose it."

"I didn't lose it somebody took it!"

"Muddear, nobody stole your money."

For the next hour or so Muddear was yelling and screaming. There was no appeasing her and everything Mike said to her started another argument.

"Mike, give me my money back! The reason you won't come in here is because you know where my money is!"

"Muddear, I don't know what you did with your money. The reason I won't stay in your room is because I am not going to argue with you."

"You know you took it! You know you know something about it!"

At this point, Muddear began calling on the wrath of God to get Mike. Poor Mike was getting frustrated and I was too sick to intervene. We just let her fuss herself to sleep. Was there any other alternative?

Barricades

Mike had to work late last night. Any time he comes home late, due to work or otherwise, it is typical for him to check on the kids and Muddear since their rooms are next to each other.

When he arrived at Muddear's door he noticed it was closed. We don't allow her to close the door because she always wakes up in the middle of the night. If Muddear begins to call us and her door is shut, we cannot hear her. Therefore, typical Mike, he opened her door and walked back to our bedroom.

Several minutes later, Muddear's bedroom light came on, she shut her door and I kept hearing loud bumping noises coming from her room. Of course, I had to investigate the ruckus and what do you think she was doing? Barricading the door! I initially had difficulty opening the door because she had placed the two tray tables we normally keep in her bedroom behind the door!

"Muddear, it is not safe for you to barricade your door. We need to move these trays."

"No! Somebody kept knocking on my door and opening it up. What do they want with me?"

"Muddear that was Mike, he opened your door, because we cannot hear you if you need help at night. He didn't knock on your door, he went into both of the kid's rooms."

"Well why didn't you tell me what you were going to do?"

"Muddear, you were sleep."

"I know that, you should have told me during the day that you were gonna open my door tonight."

"I did tell you."

"Oh."

After that Muddear was up all night - opening and shutting her door; turning the lights on and off; and yelling out the door..."what do you want with me!"

Caregiver Struggles

I am embarrassed to say that last week I yelled at Muddear. She had been fussing about E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G! From not having enough money to not wanting to wear her gown because it had a split in it, to telling me that she was tired of me lying to her about the amount of time required to take a breathing treatment.

It was Friday night, I had worked all day, Muddear had been up multiple nights in a row, and I was T-I-R-E-D! I honestly could not handle Muddear arguing with me continuously about her breathing treatment for 25 minutes. It normally takes 12 minutes, but Muddear decided that the treatment was done and she was tired of me telling her that it wasn't. After 10 minutes, Muddear refused to finish the treatment and simply sat in her wheelchair staring at the wall. It was driving me N-U-T-Z! I was at a loss as to how to make Muddear comprehend the importance of taking the breathing treatment in its entirety. And truthfully, I did not want another night of Muddear yelling and screaming that she could not breath. As I contemplated the possible outcomes of my night, I started yelling!

Immediately, I realized that the best way to control the situation was to leave the room, which I promptly did. When I calmed down, I was very embarrassed and somewhat ashamed of my behavior. I could not wait for Mike to return home so that I could confess. It was a difficult night.

Peaceful Sleep?

Friday night/Saturday morning was... Well words just cannot describe. Friday night Muddear became aggravated. She was questioning me about her living arrangements; her monthly check; the bus schedule and how she could locate the nearest bus stop. Imagine that...

With that in mind, I guess I should not have been surprised when Muddear began calling me at 3:00 a.m. Saturday morning. Calling me is not exactly the best way to describe it - more like screaming for help at the top of her lungs. I blindly run into her room to ask Muddear what was wrong. Can you guess what she says?

"Nikki, I am upset."
"Muddear, what is wrong?"
"I want to know where my check is.""Muddear, it is 3:00 o'clock in the morning. We are not talking about that now."
"You asked me what was wrong. Besides, there ain't no need to talk. Just tell me where my check is."
"Goodnight Muddear."
"I can't breathe."
"That's because you don't have your oxygen on. Please stop taking it off. Goodnight."

It is not my intention to be short with or mean to Muddear. The problem is whenever she starts having this conversation, she really wants to argue and I refuse to do so, especially in the middle of the night.

So I crawl back in the bed and go to sleep. At 7:00 a.m., Muddear starts screaming again. I am delirious, but I go back into Muddear's room. Can you guess what she says? The conversation is an exact replica of the one above - except it is now 7:00 a.m.

After crawling back in the bed again, I discover from Mike that Muddear had been up screaming between 4:00 and 5:00 a.m. as well. To wit, he had the exact same conversation with Muddear as above. I laugh and go back to sleep only to be awaken at 8:00 a.m. to Muddear screaming again. Would you be surprised if I told you that we had the exact same conversation as the one above - except it is now 8:00 a.m.?

I crawl back in the bed again, quite beyond delirium to go back to sleep. At 9:00 a.m., Muddear starts screaming again. Why do I keep subjecting myself to this insanity? I went back into her room, to have the same conversation over again - except it is now 9:00 a.m.

And yet, I crawl back in bed knowing that it is now time to get up to cook breakfast and dispense Muddear's medication, but I just couldn't do it. I desperately tried to go back to sleep. Within the hour, Muddear starts screaming again. I pretended not to hear her. However, my wonderful husband woke up to do all this for me. Oh how I love him.

I had just entered into a blissful hour of sleep when I heard Muddear calling me again. However, this time, it was not from the sanctity of her room. Apparently, Muddear was tired of waiting for me and had rolled herself right into my bedroom. The fates were truly against me!

3:00 A.M.

"H-E-L-P! I need help! Somebody help me!"
(Blindly, I go running down the hallway.)
"Muddear? What's wrong?
"I don't know."
"Why are you yelling for help?"
"I just wanted to know if anybody was home."