The Monster

I guess the transition with my mom to the Courtyard had been going a little too smoothly because things took familiar turn yesterday.

I stopped by to see my mom yesterday afternoon, Good Friday.  I brought her some ice cream from Jeni's.  I was looking forward to a nice, peaceful visit before I got an afternoon run in.  I guess I'd let my guard down a bit, forgetting momentarily that the monster that is Alzheimer's disease waits for moments like that to renew its vicious attack on its unwitting and victims and their families.

It's a longer walk from the parking lot to the Courtyard that it was to Aspen Arbor and when I arrived, I entered the code and walked back to her room.  The door was partially closed, so I walked in and was greeted by a "full Monty" shot of my mom sitting on the toilet, something I've not seen before and really didn't want to see.  A CNA (certified nursing assistant) was helping her but didn't appear to be doing too good of a job of it.  I stepped out, ice cream melting in the styrofoam, to go bowl, and waited in the hall.  I chatted with another CNA briefly, then she stepped into my mom's room to help with her.

After a few minutes, they walked out and my mom was seated in her room, in a new wheelchair supplied by NHC Place.  It has a taller back on it, which is good for her back pain because it provides more support.  It's much heavier and bulkier than her old one, though, which limits her mobility.  She can't propel it herself like she could with the old one.

The toughest part was my mom was highly agitated when I sat down in her room to visit with her.  She was breathing hard, which is what she does when she's upset.  She didn't want any ice cream and I was unable to distract her enough to get her calmed down.  She was talking about wanting to "go downstairs," which she hasn't done in a while.  I think that's the last vestige of her time at Maristone, when she lived upstairs and had to go downstairs to eat her meals.  I heard that a lot from her after we moved her into Aspen Arbor at NHC Place, but hadn't heard it much since she had settled in there.

I pushed her in her wheelchair around the hall and back to her room, but still, I couldn't get her settled down.  In the end, I wheeled her back up front, with the other residents, and left her at a table with another lady, eating ice cream supplied by a CNA.  Go figure.

I don't know.  I guess I was hoping we'd get a respite from the Alzheimer's monster, at least for a few weeks.  I should have known better.