Sadness and confusion. Constant feelings I carry with me like an oppressive sack that hangs around everywhere, getting fat like Santa’s bag of presents. I can’t read a book or watch a movie. I struggle to make plans with friends. There is no space in my head for the frivolous and the enjoyable. When my mother does poorly, I do poorly, and this week was a beggar man’s one.
Mom was here on Tuesday and Wednesday. I visited her on Thursday and I took her to a social daycare program yesterday, one she attended for six months prior to moving into the rest home. She made lots of friends there and everyone was happy to see her. She remembered almost no one.
Mom has been happy on the days she is with Dan and me, but extremely confused when it is time to leave. She thinks she is going home and I still can’t figure out where that place is in her mind. Could it be the North End where she lived most of her life? Or in Saugus where she lived for the past twelve years? She can’t verbalize it. I don’t think she can even see it clearly. In any case, her idea of where she is going is separate from the reality.
On Tuesday when Dan pulled up to the rest home he had the worst “drop off” yet.
“Why are you taking me here? I have to go home! I have laundry to do and I have to feed the cat…she’s been alone all day.”
“Jill, it’s alright, this is where you live.”
“Stop saying that! It’s not. Take me home!”
A solid fifteen minutes of this ensued. Then Dan was rescued by a brilliant thought. He told my mother that if she was going to stay overnight at her “house,” she needed her pills and would have to go inside and approve him signing them out. My mother looked at him with twisted eyes.
Dan continued. “You know how we sign out your pills everyday, Jill, when you visit? You are at the front desk when we do that. I need you there or else they won’t give them to me.”
Into the rest home she went, and back out she did not come. Trapped. How unbelievably heartbreaking.
We’ve had three drop-offs like this in a row and I am starting to wonder if it is beneficial to take her out so much. She is with me outside of the rest home 4 to 5 times a week. Lately, it just seems to bring her more confusion and irritation.
Yet, when she is not here my stomach goes on roller coaster rides, and after I work I either sleep (3 hours today and yesterday) and then clean my already clean house like a housekeeper on speed. It’s crazy. And I don’t know what to do to stop it. It’s tearing me into tiny pieces and I just don’t know what to do.