I didn’t see Mom over the weekend because I was back-to-back-to-back with other commitments. Until recently, I felt so guilty if I couldn’t take her to church. But now half the time we (my niece or I) go to pick her up on a Sunday morning, she’s still in bed – even though we’ve given up on 9:30 Sunday school to give her an extra hour of sleep. So I just called her caregivers and told them they could let her sleep in yesterday and I’d come by later.
After work today I dropped by with her rent check and the new lightweight “transfer” wheelchair. It’s going to be great. I sat in it for the hour that I visited with Mom, and it’s quite comfortable. It folds up nicely and is light enough that I can pick it up and carry it under one arm. (Well, maybe not under one arm with the footrests attached.) Mom looked great, bright-eyed and alert; and when I asked how her knees were doing, she said they’re not bothering her so much and showed me that she could bend the knees and stretch out her legs without pain.
I noticed a couple of things that tell me things are changing, though.
Her memory, which has been on a plateau for these last couple years, seems to have slipped a bit further. She asked how my day was, and I regaled her with a story of the ridiculousness of my Monday at work. A brief pause, while I rub her calves and she looks at the TV, then she looks back up at me. “So, how was your day?” I found an unopened envelope on the table next to her bed from her sister, Alice, and handed it to her. She opened it up and read the letter out loud to me, two sides of one sheet of paper, typed in large print. She finished the letter, turned the page over to the first side, and said “Oh, I haven’t read this. Should I read it out loud?”
Also, she seemed to be having a little trouble reading parts of the letter, and I couldn’t tell if it was her eyesight (she does have macular degeneration) or if she was getting confused. I’m going to ask her caregivers if she’s still actually reading the pile of books on her end table. It may be time to quietly remove most of them and replace them with large print books. And if anyone has suggestions for a device to play audio books that an 89-year-old dementia patient can manage, please let me know.