Saturday evening I spend with my mom in Memory Care. Most Saturdays pass smoothly in the routine of dinner, shower, manicure and Crazy 8's all woven through and around (and around) with the same questions.
When can I go home?
How was your week?
Who lives in my house?
Where are my mom and dad?
I have become accustomed to it all, to providing her with the answer least likely to provoke her, sometimes leaving the truth far behind in my wake in an effort to have calm.
Some Saturdays are rougher than others as I watch this loving spritely woman twist and fold into something small and terrified as the night comes on. It is in those moments when she is least herself and more other. It is in those moments that reassurances and calm need to reign. And it is in those moments when I can no longer see her in there, just stark terror in her eyes. There is no recognition of who I am other than someone familiar and comforting.
Such has been our pattern for the past few weeks. I have tried to adapt again, tried not to do things or say things that will upset either of us. But last night I had to know and asked her who I was while she struggled in the deepest dark. And she didn't know. I didn't need to ask that question, I already knew the answer. Hearing her say she didn't know opened up a new kind of pain for me. Pain that I immediately stuffed, stuffed, stuffed down so I could finish the routine of putting her to bed. My own needs always secondary to hers while I am there. I would cry on my own time in the car on the way home by myself.
As I was leaving one of the new male residents was in the hall. He looked at me and said "You're fat." Uh....yeah captain obvious. I was pissed off, continued out the door fuming before I said something I might regret. I made up responses both clever and cutting the whole way home.
I know his comment was unintentional and chastising an AD patient is like chastising a child. So, I'm glad I didn't smart out a response. And his comment at least kept me from fixating on the sad end to my visit with the mama. So in some ways it was a blessing. Guess I should thank that dude instead of slapping him.
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