circa late March, 2001
We are bringing mom home from the hospital today. She has been there for 2+ months, related to the treatments needed for the breast cancer and the stroke. She has had toilet mastectomy, plastic surgery skin grafts, radiation therapy, physical therapy. She is in a wheelchair, but also has a 4 point cane, and she can walk a bit, but still needs someone to stand by. She has regained a stuttering speech that we are so thankful for - and we continue to work on.
You have stayed at her side continuously throughout the process as I have flown in and out of another world, to be with you.
During this entire time I had no clue of how impaired you already were or of what would follow.
******************************************
We arrive home and I set about setting up the home. I ask you to get the medications we had filled at the pharmacy. You disappear into the back of the house for longer than necessary.
When you return with the medication, it is apparent that something isn't right.
The tablets don't look like normal pills I am accustomed to seeing. Instead, they look like clear plastic capsules with grassy like powders inside.
*********************************************
You had decided, on your own, that you weren't going to give her the medication that had been prescribed by the doctors. Instead, the grassy substances were various supplements that you had extracted from the huge stock of bottles located around the house.
Did you forget that I have spent my life studying medicine and science? That I am an actual expert in the room?
*********************************************
I put my hands on each of your shoulders, standing over you as you sat in the chair, looking at me without concern, and I SHOOK the shoulders with the emphasis of my words:
"You are a F_ _ _ _ UP!!!" I repeatedly exclaimed, in horror.
I liked to tell people afterwards, it was the day I kicked your ass, that I shouldn't have waited so long to have kicked your ass. But, I didn't really kick your ass. It was a tragic realization.
***************************
My vulnerable mother is not safe with my father as caregiver.
No. 2015 Translation: My vulnerable mother is not safe with my vulnerable father as caregiver.
What would it have taken for me to have actually gotten control of that situation in 2001? I don't think it would have been possible to have done any more than I did, short of moving in with them.
http://seniorfraud.blogspot.com/2014/11/what-you-should-do-if-this-happens-to.html
*****************
You didn't seem very concerned by my reaction, or the tears, making me cry, making mom cry.
You are, however, alarmed that I said the F word.
You also aren't appropriately alarmed when social services show up over the next months, following my report of Mom as a vulnerable adult.
**********************************
Was this already part of the dementia, but I attributed it only to poor choices? ?
Yes, I would say that more than anything, the lack of empathy or the loss of social boundary, permitting you to not be concerned by the need for oversight by a Social Service agency, in order to maintain basic proper medication management of the person YOU are caring for, is a manifestation of the dementia in progress. A normal person, even if they had made a judgment error, would be called into check, would self correct, and also be embarrassed by this requirement; but you weren't.
**************************
the timeline on the story noted above isn't quite 100% factual. The part about the meds on day 1 arrival at home is true. But the part about me losing it actually was a week or 2 later, but related to a similar issue, as I recall.
Showing posts with label spouse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spouse. Show all posts
Saturday, February 7, 2015
its breast cancer
January 18, 2001.
The phone rings. Its you calling me from the hospital in Sioux Falls. Mom was admitted to the hospital last night. Before you had the chance to say anything more, I said to you, "She has breast cancer, doesn't she?". Yes, you say, with clear emotion.
While sitting at dinner the night before, Mom had suddenly requested that you take her to the hospital, not the local hospital, but the tertiary care center 90 miles away. You could barely understand her speech. Something was wrong with it. She couldn't get the words our right. En route, she confessed she had a "lump" in her breast. She had also experienced an episode of loss of speech 6 months earlier and earlier the same day.
**************************************************************
it was a lot more than just breast cancer.
************************************************************
I arrive after an emergency flight to Sioux Falls. She is lying in the bed, small, not speaking.
What is that smell?
The doctor comes in to look at the biopsy site - we meet for the first time. He lifts the gown and I can't believe what I see:
It was a neglected breast cancer that had eaten the breast off the surface of the chest, leaving stinky poopy smelling hole.
It had already spread to the bone.
The illness had caused such a profound anemia that she had a stroke, losing speech and the use of the right side of the body.
***********************************************
you start to speak of fighting the cancer and of hope which seems totally out of place to me based on what I see.
It will be a miracle if she lives 3 months. We need to help her move on with reality now, not try to hold her back.
***************************************
how many years did it take for this thing to develop like this?
Why has this been hidden?
Why didn't you notice it?
Why didn't you tell me?
*************************************
The doctor expresses his sympathy to me, doctor to doctor.
He knows what I know, and how this would make me feel.
**************************
I internally recall that I always somehow intuitively knew it would come to this for her. The first time I ever saw such a site during my medical training, I thought to myself, "that is something my own mother would let happen" .
The phone rings. Its you calling me from the hospital in Sioux Falls. Mom was admitted to the hospital last night. Before you had the chance to say anything more, I said to you, "She has breast cancer, doesn't she?". Yes, you say, with clear emotion.
While sitting at dinner the night before, Mom had suddenly requested that you take her to the hospital, not the local hospital, but the tertiary care center 90 miles away. You could barely understand her speech. Something was wrong with it. She couldn't get the words our right. En route, she confessed she had a "lump" in her breast. She had also experienced an episode of loss of speech 6 months earlier and earlier the same day.
**************************************************************
it was a lot more than just breast cancer.
************************************************************
I arrive after an emergency flight to Sioux Falls. She is lying in the bed, small, not speaking.
What is that smell?
The doctor comes in to look at the biopsy site - we meet for the first time. He lifts the gown and I can't believe what I see:
It was a neglected breast cancer that had eaten the breast off the surface of the chest, leaving stinky poopy smelling hole.
It had already spread to the bone.
The illness had caused such a profound anemia that she had a stroke, losing speech and the use of the right side of the body.
***********************************************
you start to speak of fighting the cancer and of hope which seems totally out of place to me based on what I see.
It will be a miracle if she lives 3 months. We need to help her move on with reality now, not try to hold her back.
***************************************
how many years did it take for this thing to develop like this?
Why has this been hidden?
Why didn't you notice it?
Why didn't you tell me?
*************************************
The doctor expresses his sympathy to me, doctor to doctor.
He knows what I know, and how this would make me feel.
**************************
I internally recall that I always somehow intuitively knew it would come to this for her. The first time I ever saw such a site during my medical training, I thought to myself, "that is something my own mother would let happen" .
caregiver negligence as a sign of dementia
9/24/03
Your wheel chair bound, aphasic wife sits alone in the house, watching TV, as she has done every day, since the stroke in early 2001.
But its getting dark outside, and you haven't been back to the house in many hours.
There has been no dinner for either of you.
There has been no opportunity for a trip to the bathroom for her.
One week ago, while visiting her oncologist, you became confused and were noted to have hypoglycemia (low blood sugar).
She is worried about you. Its 8 PM, its dark outside, and you should be back in the house by now.
She calls 911. I can just hear her stuttering speech as she would try to reach out for help.
The paramedics find you mowing the ditch in the dark.
You can't understand why anyone would be concerned, but you return to the house.
***********************************************
15 minutes later when I call back I find out that you are on the other phone line in the back of the house, talking to a mystery man (another one of your get rich quick associates, I am sure).
When I confront you on who you are talking to, you say "Is this an inquisition?" and you hang up on me.
**********************************
Your wheel chair bound, aphasic wife sits alone in the house, watching TV, as she has done every day, since the stroke in early 2001.
But its getting dark outside, and you haven't been back to the house in many hours.
There has been no dinner for either of you.
There has been no opportunity for a trip to the bathroom for her.
One week ago, while visiting her oncologist, you became confused and were noted to have hypoglycemia (low blood sugar).
She is worried about you. Its 8 PM, its dark outside, and you should be back in the house by now.
She calls 911. I can just hear her stuttering speech as she would try to reach out for help.
The paramedics find you mowing the ditch in the dark.
You can't understand why anyone would be concerned, but you return to the house.
***********************************************
15 minutes later when I call back I find out that you are on the other phone line in the back of the house, talking to a mystery man (another one of your get rich quick associates, I am sure).
When I confront you on who you are talking to, you say "Is this an inquisition?" and you hang up on me.
**********************************
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Christmas morning memories and hopes
It's Christmas morning. I arrive to start to prepare for the party. You are up and dressed.
"Where is Doloris?", you ask me, with a concerned tone.
This is a first. Doloris is your wife, my mother, deceased for almost 10 years. You have never asked such a question before. What should I tell you to answer this question. After you once mistakenly thought I was her, months ago, and I corrected you then, I vowed I would never correct you again on thinking she was around. If you think I am her, then maybe that is a blessing, a respite from the loneliness and grief of losing a lifetime partner. But today you don't think I am her. Instead, you are looking for her, thinking she has been gone a short time.
"She got out of bed this morning, got dressed, and now she is gone. Do you think she went to the grocery store?" you ask.
"I'm sure she will be here soon", I say. (Did I say the right thing? Change the subject now. Hopefully this will just pass).
But, soon you are again asking for Doloris, concerned that she isn't there. You ask again again and again, while I am straightening the room, responding with busyness, serving you coffee, etc, trying to divert the attention to something else.
Finally, we are sitting quietly. Its Christmas morning and its just me and you.
"where is Doloris?" you again ask me.
I feel the pain of the innocence of your question. I don't quite know what to say.
Finally, with tenderness and pain in my own being, I say, "Well, Dad, I am happy to hear that Mom is sleeping with you still. .................... But............ Mom went to heaven, remember?" (translation, in my mind: Mama went to heaven, remember?)
Your expression turns from concern to pain, instantly. "She did?", you say.
"Yes..............she did".................................
And, for the first time in almost 10 years I feel your pain like I have never felt it before, nevermind my own hope, as I feel my eyes well, and a tear drops down my cheek.
And with that, you suddenly brighten up and start to talk about who is coming to the party today.
**********************************************************
But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:10,11
.......................................................................
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away." And He who sits on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new." Revelations: 21: 4, 5.
"Where is Doloris?", you ask me, with a concerned tone.
This is a first. Doloris is your wife, my mother, deceased for almost 10 years. You have never asked such a question before. What should I tell you to answer this question. After you once mistakenly thought I was her, months ago, and I corrected you then, I vowed I would never correct you again on thinking she was around. If you think I am her, then maybe that is a blessing, a respite from the loneliness and grief of losing a lifetime partner. But today you don't think I am her. Instead, you are looking for her, thinking she has been gone a short time.
"She got out of bed this morning, got dressed, and now she is gone. Do you think she went to the grocery store?" you ask.
"I'm sure she will be here soon", I say. (Did I say the right thing? Change the subject now. Hopefully this will just pass).
But, soon you are again asking for Doloris, concerned that she isn't there. You ask again again and again, while I am straightening the room, responding with busyness, serving you coffee, etc, trying to divert the attention to something else.
Finally, we are sitting quietly. Its Christmas morning and its just me and you.
"where is Doloris?" you again ask me.
I feel the pain of the innocence of your question. I don't quite know what to say.
Finally, with tenderness and pain in my own being, I say, "Well, Dad, I am happy to hear that Mom is sleeping with you still. .................... But............ Mom went to heaven, remember?" (translation, in my mind: Mama went to heaven, remember?)
Your expression turns from concern to pain, instantly. "She did?", you say.
"Yes..............she did".................................
And, for the first time in almost 10 years I feel your pain like I have never felt it before, nevermind my own hope, as I feel my eyes well, and a tear drops down my cheek.
And with that, you suddenly brighten up and start to talk about who is coming to the party today.
**********************************************************
But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:10,11
.......................................................................
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away." And He who sits on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new." Revelations: 21: 4, 5.
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