Cell Phone Tales

We used to have a home phone and my husband and I had cell phones. If the phone at the house rang during the day, Ma would get mad if the sitter answered the phone since she felt that if we weren't home, it was her responsibility. Well, calls would come in for us and she would attempt to take messages and of course when we got the message (if she remembered to give it to us) it would be written so poorly and/or spelled so weird and numbers missing in the phone number we had a hard time calling people back. If the sitter tried to assist her she would get furious at them. Sometimes it was calls about doctors appointment changes etc. and we just never could count on getting the correct information.





When we moved to our current house, we decided we would not have a home phone and that we would get Ma her own cell phone so she would have that one to answer without fighting with anyone about it. I always give my cell phone number for any of her appointments so that has worked out well. The only calls she gets are from my brother and her friends - the 2 that are left.


The first phone I got her was very basic, big numbers, just open to answer etc. I got the voice dialing set up for her so all she had to do was open the phone and say the name of the person she wanted and it would confirm the name of the person. So, she would say "Jim" and then the recording would say "Did you say Jim?" and she was supposed to say "yes". She always thought there was actually a person asking her this and so she would say extra things like "yes, I want to talk to Jim". Of course the recording would then say "I'm sorry, I did not understand your response. Did you say Jim?" I , of course tried again and again to explain that there isn't anyone there, that it's just a computer voice and would review what she needed to say, only to have her say it was just too confusing.



She misplaced her phone a few times and went into a panic. I would tell her I'd just call her phone and we'd listen for it. She would ask how I was going to call her phone when she didn't have a phone number. Each time, I would tell her that she did, indeed have a phone number and I would again write it down for her on her calendar or someplace where I thought she would have it and it wouldn't get lost. She has always been amazed at how easily I can call her phone and we can find it rather than tearing the house apart and searching every pocket, cushion , flower pot etc.



I overheard a conversation with her friend Hazel - Ma told Hazel that if she wanted to call her, all she had to do was pick up her phone and say " Ruth" and she would get connected. I wonder how many times Hazel tried it with no success.



She ended up dropped her phone in a wet situation and I had to get her another phone. Of course, the model she had was no longer available so the one I got for her required her to say "Call Jim" instead of just the name. Of course, the same voice is there asking her questions, telling her they can't understand her command etc etc. so at this point, it's pretty much useless for her to try to call anyone. Despite my best efforts to get different types of cases for her phone, it is always stashed somewhere that makes it difficult for her to get to it and by the time she fumbles around with it, the caller - generally my brother - has hung up. I have attempted many times to show her how to see who called and just push the green button and it will dial them back. Sadly, this has not been very successful either.

Bedtime

It usually takes about an hour to get Ma into bed for the night. We have a routine where she pulls up to the side of the bed first. I get the top of her pajamas on. I try to lessen the number of times she has to get up and down so I take the pajama bottoms into the bathroom and while she is going to the bathroom I put the bottoms on, saving another time of getting up and down which is getting increasingly difficult. Then she spend about 20 minutes brushing her teeth and washing her face. Then it's on to the bedroom where she wheels around the room, stopping at the bird cage to tell the bird to ring her bells and say nite nite etc. Then she wheels over to the side of the bed, I help her onto the side of the bed and then it's pill time. Then lift her legs into the bed, then get on the far side of the bed, get ahold of her pj bottoms and pull her over a few times to get her in the right position. Then I arrange the pillows the way she likes it and cover her up for the night. I can't help but wonder when I say goodnight and close her door, what she thinks about. She knows that something is not right in her head. I worry that she's upset about it and scared. I had a knowledgeable person tell me that for a person with dementia, their days can be like it would be for me to be going to a new job. That feeling of anxiety at not knowing what's expected, not knowing where things are or who's who. I don't think she feels that way all the time, but I think she does part of the time. She just doesn't know what's expected or what she's supposed to do. I tend to try to over explain things and "straighten her out" like I would do with other people. Although I know she has dementia and her brain is not the same as it used to be, it's very difficult for me to grasp that things I say to her don't compute all the time. It's very sad. When I close that door at night I feel sad for her. I love her and wish there was something that I could do to fix her.

The Powder Wars

As many older ladies do, my mother LOVES to put powder on her body. She has these little tub things with a powder puff in it and she wants to powder everything from her underarms, between and under her breasts, between her legs and under her belly. First of all, I have tried to explain that this powder puff is nasty. Using this thing day after day in these areas is just plain gross.

The other issue with this is that she puts so much on that it is nothing but a caked on mess of powder that has now gotten sweaty and nasty and causes her skin to break down. The latest was such that I had to get the doctor to call in a prescription for medicated ointment to get it all healed up.

In our "discussions" about this, Ma has asked me if I don't use any powder on my body. I have told her that I do but first of all I use my clean hand that can be washed after the application of the powder wherever I want it and also washed before I do it again and I'm not using a nasty powder puff that's been powdering all areas of my body! She just shakes her head and says she doesn't understand and if I don't want her to use powder she won't.

The other day, one of the sitters, Babz, was sweeping out my bathroom into the kitchen where Ma was eating her breakfast. Speaking to herself, Ma said " Hmmp, all that powder - it must be caked on her someplace !" I can assure you, it is not!

Demolition Ma Style

Ma sometimes has trouble operating her motorized chair. She'll do fine for awhile and then BAM!! The damage that gets done during these crashes is like the elephant in the room that no one mentions. Her bathroom as been the worst. She hit the door so hard that it drove the door stop right into the door making a large hole. Fortunately it is at the top of the door, so it's not that noticeable. One wall in her bathroom seems to be her favorite crash site these days.

It was in bad shape with holes galore. She decided she wanted to have her bathroom painted and one of our sitters agreed to do it, but of course the wall needed to get patched. The sitter - Pam - was very patient and kind and patched the wall, sanded it and painted it. Within one day it had scrape marks where Ma got too close and the arm of her chair was dragged along the wall. More holes have had to be patched, sanded and repainted several times in several weeks.

I have seen Ma go full speed ahead into our fireplace, into furniture (which has all kinds of dings and scrapes now), into the railings on the deck, into bricks around the gardens etc. Sometimes she just can't stop. She completely loses it and even if you are telling her to stop or that she's running into something she still keeps going. She rarely says anything after one of these episodes although sometimes refers to the chair having "just taken off".

Today before I came home I called the morning sitter - Deb - to ask her to come in a little early tomorrow as I have an early appointment. She said that when Ma was pulling away from the breakfast table, instead of going through the door, she went the other way and crashed into the wall under the window. Deb said she seemed totally disconnected from the incident. Of course, when she realized what had happened, then she wants Deb to get the patching compound out to patch the holes.

When I got home she was eating at the table and the extra kitchen chair was pulled over in front of the patched area, I guess so I wouldn't notice. I don't want to embarrass her so I just pretend I don't see these things.