Mom Navigattes the Looney, and Ada's Son Visits His Changed Mother

Sunday, July 24, 2011

            Javier and I went together, but we stayed only a few minutes.  Mom was concerned about her roommate Kay, who is, as Mom sometimes says, “loony,” and wants Mom out of her home. 

            When we arrived in the afternoon—after 3:00 pm--Mom was in bed without her teeth but put them in for Javier and wanted to do a crossword puzzle with us. 

             Before dementia, she did the New York Times crossword puzzles, but now she does ones with “EASY” in the title.  But she remembered the French word for “to be.” 

            It was a nice 30-minute visit, and then Kay came in and said she needed to talk to Mom (which means, of course, a talking to), and Mom said of us, “They’re leaving in about five minutes.” 

            When I came too near the bed, Kay turned and said, “Get out!  Don’t you nose your way in here.  This is no concern of yours.”  Or something to that effect.  The usual.    

            Before Kay came in, we’d talked about her a bit, and Mom had said, “She wants me out, and sometimes she says cruel things to get me to move out faster.” 

            I said, “I know, Mom.  She’s a bit disturbed, and it really isn’t her fault, and it certainly isn’t yours!” 

            Mom said, “And it’s not my fault that I need to visit the bathroom.  Or that I need to visit the bathroom.” 

             For the first time, I met the son of one of the residents who’s totally changed from a warm, peppy, happy, hug-seeking women with extreme short-term memory loss to a cool, depressed, what’s-a-hug? person, and I wish I knew why.