Mom is 91 and has dementia (still not sure what kind)
we have always been best friends and now she sometimes looks at me like she doesn't know me or doesn't like me at least that is how it makes me feel.
I ask her and she looks at me then looks up and away.
does anyone else had this happen?
This happens frequently, do not take it personally. Her brain just is not working as it once did.
Wishing you all the best with this, you can do it!
In the end she knew I was familiar and took care of her whenever she needed. That had to be good enough.
They said rehab but rehab wasn't realistic. A long saga from there.
Assisted living with an enhanced license..
I took her out after paying for 2 months...... She could not participate in activities of assisted living...she was apathetic confused enjoyed nothing. She was way past assisted living and it was just a money drain. Finally home hospice..... I changed diapers, tried to feed and clothe her. One night developed c difficile and I couldn't keep up with diaper changing and trying to keep things clean. I called 911...... Social workers at hospital and attending were angry.....
Have her meds for c difficile but I felt the place was still contaminated with spores..
No ppe at home...... I was overwhelmed and said I can't take her back yet..... She was still even on isolation precautions in the hospital..... Total lack of empathy from attending and social workers....
She went to another snf they demanded...... Private pay as first snf used up all her medicare rehab days.... Outrageously expensive and demanded two months pay up front.... Said it was end of life care but saw blood work continuing..
Covid there....
Short staffed..
I pulled her out early and got her on a second hospice at home...
I did diapers tried to feed and clothe her.....she forgot my name and thought my name was hers...
. Died on home hospice... Thankfully I had the morphine lorazrpam from hospice to try to ease the transition.....
Dementia... So vicious.... Insidious at first then progressively downhill... Last couple of days could not even roll over in bed or swallow..... I felt death was kind..
There was no quality of life left.... Now I still have a lot of her affairs to deal with.... Overwhelming.
But death is better than a life like that.... God be merciful... I would rather just drop dead or die in my sleep..... Dementia is progressive ultimately lethal, no quality time anymore.... Apathy, only joy eating a cookie while watching me mop up the floor and asking for juice..... Hard on caregiver even home hospice and limited visits.... Covid fear...... I understand that blank look eyes often half closed... Expressionless face or inappropriate........
Yes true it is the world of dementia.... Absolutely harrowing
But in the long run does it really truly matter?
When you were born you did not know who she was.
You knew she was going to keep you safe.
You knew she was going to keep you clean and dry.
You knew you were going to get fed.
You were going to be put into a clean comfortable bed.
You knew you were loved.
You in turn are doing the same for her.
Don't ask her, that puts pressure on her and not having an answer to something that she is sure she should know may make her feel sad, hurt, empty.
Just hug her, tell her that you love her and you will keep her safe. That she knows.
This entire experience is just heart breaking. She always used to tell us, when I get old, put me on an iceberg and send me out to sea. Some days I wish I could. You can not bring back any of her memories, all you can do is join them where they are, hold their hand and pray.
Have you tried showing her photos of you and her together in earlier days? Family photos, etc? I don't know if it will help, but it may be worth a try to stimulate her memory. My mother hates photos for some reason, unless they're of babies, but some dementia sufferers love them. It's always trial & error to figure out what works/what doesn't work.
Some days my mother will ask me what my DHs name is. Or my DDs name. Other days she will insist I have a baby and that she needs to 'come home and take care of him.' Every single day is brand new & different, which keeps ME off kilter. THAT is the most uncomfortable feeling of all, for me, when dealing with her dementia: I never know what to expect. Her stories are convoluted and quite detailed sometimes, leaving me scratching my head with wonder at what goes on in her addled mind.
I hate dementia with every ounce of my being. It robs us of our loved ones, and it robs our loved ones of their mind.
Try to remember your mom as she was; as your best friend, because she still IS your best friend, she just can't remember that fact. She may have moments of lucidity where she'll remember you, and you'll spot the old mom in there, looking at you the way she once did.
I'm sorry you're going through this, I'm sorry for all of us going through this, and I'm sorry for our mother's going through this too. I'm only glad that the doctor was able to put my mom on Zoloft which has made her a lot happier these days. She's still really confused and out of it, but she's not miserable and complaining constantly like she was pre-Zoloft. So that's the good news in a sea of bad news these days.
Wishing you the best of luck with a tough situation.
I am currently fighting my own battle as well with stage 4 cancer and the stress is humungous. My mom doesn't really realize what is happening and I don't know whether to be happy for her or to feel hurt....... might sound selfish but I know if she knew, she would be so supportive. I just feel so alone and trapped. My only sibling knows what's going down but my mom doesn't display her aggression in front of him so he doesn't really understand.
At times, when he talks about growing up, he confuses me with his high school girlfriend, or his first wife. ( I look like neither ). I dont correct him, just tell him I don't remember that particular incident.
I took me a while to give up trying to correct him. I am a control freak, and think I can fix every problem. So unless he's doing something that will will endanger him or me, I just go with the flow. Which is why there are 8 wood clamps under the bed, and each of his socks are in a separate Ziplock baggie in his dresser drawer.
She actually calls me by name quite often, and in spite of her terrible cognitive losses, I have a sense that sometimes, at some level, she still knows who I am.
I don’t care who she is right now. I love her and cherish her JUST AS SHE IS, any given day.