I thought it was the light at the end of the tunnel. Turned out to be the a train.

So my 76 year old mother's dementia has been noticeably worsening. She doesn't try to start supper any longer (yay); she does light matches but forgets about smoking a cigarette (half-yay); she does NOT like soap and water in any way, shape or form (ewww!) Her 80 year old boyfriend (with whom she lives) is sound enough of mind to tell her what to do but too frail (honestly) to do most things himself. I have been visiting them 4-5 times a week, making supper, doing grocery shopping, driving to most appointments; probably spending 8-20 hours with them on top of a 45-50 hour a week job.

Recently, when trying to get Mom to take a shower, I discovered that she had a tumor the size of my little finger growing out of her rectum, preventing the anal sphincter from closing! Well, this explained why she had feces on the wall, floor, sides of the toilet, in her pants, on the carpet, etc. Fortunately her General Practitioner was able to remove the growth in his office and tests determined it to be a benign growth of unknown origin. I expressed to the GP that I think it is time for a nursing home and he agreed, said he would make some calls for me.

Several days later I speak with a kind-hearted lady who recommends I sit down with Mom and her BF and talk about "options". I tell her, "There is no talking with my mother, she cannot participate in a conversation. Her boyfriend pretends she visits with friends and neighbors; she doesn't even recognize HIM when he is sitting with his buddy on the patio! She chases me around the kitchen trying to French kiss me. When I tell her that ladies don't French kiss ladies she asks, "Why not?" Or says, "How about this?" and grabs my boobs or my crotch! There is no way to "discuss options"!"

I made my mind up to call Adult Protective Services and ask that they at least come in and do an assessment, possibly they could talk BF into getting someone in to clean regularly. My plan was to call this past Monday.

And then we get a foot of snow. And BF, 80 year old BF, decides that he will shovel the snow. And falls. Has to be carried into the house by two neighbors. Doesn't want to tell his daughter, THE NURSE, that he fell and now can't put any weight on his right leg. Says that he thinks it is getting better. I remind him that if he falls and is knocked unconscious Mom doesn't know how to use a phone to call for help. Finally he calls his daughter, who comes and stays the night.

This morning he can't move. His daughter calls her brother, then daughter and son help BF, in a grueling 45 minute battle, to the car for the three minute ride to the hospital. BF's ankle is broken. In two places. The ER wraps him up in a "soft cast" and sends him home, in the ice and snow, with CRUTCHES!

He is completely immobile, sitting in his armchair in the living room. He can pee in a urinal, but what is going to happen when he needs to have a bowel movement? He CAN'T stand up! CAN'T!! What were they thinking? What was he thinking?

I did call Protective Services today. They said they would investigate within 72 hours. I hope Mom and BF make it that long.

Thanks for listening. You guys are the best. :-)