Dinner? 9/2/15
Mom was again sleeping when I entered her apartment at 4 pm. Though she didn't seem as weary as the day before, I was still concerned about her lack of energy--especially when I saw she hadn't touched her dinner from the night before. All was still in her fridge. "Did you eat last night?" I asked. And by this time I wasn't surprised she didn't remember. "Why would I not eat dinner?" she asked, looking bewildered. I'm guessing she fell asleep as soon as she was back in her apartment after our coffee yesterday, and she possibly lay down and snoozed the night away. No dinner. I grabbed the most recent container of food left over from lunch, moved it to a plate for Mom's dinner and noticed the rather yummy-looking chicken breast was a solid chunk of meat. No way could Mom cut that into smaller bits. She doesn't use two hands--knife in one, fork in the other--anymore. I cut the meat up, placed a piece of waxed paper over the plate and set it on the counter where she would hopefully see it--and then eat it!
My email to the nurse this morning had asked about Mom's weight and the nurse responded she would check it--we don't want it to drop more. She's hovering around 100 lbs. The nurse also suggested Mom's weariness could be due to her coming off the Aricept, now that we've stopped giving it to her--the loose bowels were just too much.
When Mom began taking Aricept several weeks ago, we were warned that loose bowels was a side effect. Last week I'd detected an "odor" as I walked into the apartment. Mom, sleeping, rolled over and said, "Janie, there's something I wanted to tell you, but I can't remember what it was." I told her I thought I knew what it was--that she'd had a bit of an issue with her bowels. Poo smeared the toilet and was tracked on the carpet into the bedroom. Mom had changed clothes, but I noticed she'd put on pants right over her soiled legs and feet.
The apartment cleanup I left to housekeeping, but Mom's cleanup I took care of. We stripped her down and hosed her off, and I tossed her clothes into the washer. Then as if nothing had happened, we left the apartment for the dining room and coffee--that was the only "normal" part of the visit that day. I have to say I'm so thankful I don't know what awaits me when I visit Mom, or I might not have the energy to get there. I just react and do what's needed, grimacing later as I recall it all.
But now with Aricept off her medication list, we'll see if the recent weariness dissipates as well--eventually. Perhaps all this sleeping is just preparation for her eternal rest. When I leave her each day, I always kiss her lips, say "I love you," and wonder if those will be the last words we say to one another. If so, how very wonderful.