Thursday, March 21, 2013

"They're Going to Kill Me...That's the Way It Is."



About Mom (by phone) Monday, August 1, 2011

I talked to Mom last night, when she said she wasn’t doing very well, but she wasn’t doing very bad either.  When I told her I’d be coming the next day, she said, “I’m really glad to hear that, but I’ve got to get off the phone now to attend to my bathroom matters.”    I talked to Nan yesterday too, and she told me Mom had not been her best last Wed.  She tried to leave with Nan.   She’ll be seeing Mom tomorrow.


(As of 2013:  When Dana tried to send me three pictures of her in her “halo” after she had hit her head and damaged the vertebra, there must have been a virus.  The 3 MB e-mail kept coming in and filling Outlook and made it impossible to send out messages or see much of anything except for that repeated e-mail.  This, of course, is a topic worth focusing on, but I’m just leaving this time marker so I can come back to it someday—perhaps in retirement!  This was also the period when Suzy was moving in to her new house.)


About Mom August 2, 2011

Dear Suzy and Jonathan,
            Suzy, I hope your second night on 50th Avenue went well!  Please let us know!
            Jonathan, thanks again for your help resolving (I think) the problem with the excessive e-messages.  I called the number you found for me, and AT&T blocked everything from Dana’s e-mail  address—not the solution I’d hoped for, but Dana has other e-mail addresses (and names), and  I’ve let her know.  I’ve received some nice single messages from her, so I don’t understand why that one kept (I hope I can use the past tense) coming in for all those days.
            When I got to Aegis, I found out they were having computer problems, too.  Their whole system was down.
            My time with Mom was very brief!  Sonia had asked me to stop by and talk to her, but she wasn’t in her office at 9:45 when I arrived, so I went on to the Perry section, and I saw Mom from the back walking down the corridor in the direction of her room and the bathroom.  She seemed more bent over than usual, and when I said, “Hi, Mom!” and asked her how she was, she said, “Terrible!”  I said, “I’m sorry, Mom.  What’s the matter?”  She said, “They’re going to kill me.”  I put my arms around her and said, “I’m so sorry you feel that way,” and she said, “I don’t just feel that way.  That’s the way it is.” 
I noticed that she was wearing black bedroom slippers I’d never seen before, and I told her I had some new shoes for her—ones like her other sandals, which had Velcro straps that had started to lose their hold. 
She was receptive to putting them on.
“Do you like them?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said and after we’d put on the new ones, she handed me the black ones and said,   “Now, I think these are hers, so you’d better return them, and I mean fast.” 
I did. 
Kay was in her (Kay’s) armchair but not sitting with her usual good (rigid?) posture.  She was slouched but talking to herself or conversing with voices that only she could hear. 
Mom told me she had to go to the bathroom, and then she had to go to bed. 
            “Goodbye,” she said.
            I followed her to the bathroom, where I saw she was wearing only one panty-pad, not two, but she really, truly wanted me to leave. 
            After she finished going to the bathroom (where she put the toilet paper in the wastebasket the Mexican/rest of the world/ how we’ll probably do it ourselves someday way.  I followed her to her room.  I still had that Unlikely Friendship book to make her joyous!  But she entered her room alone, said something to commiserate with Kay, and then looked back at me at the door and whispered, “Scram!”  I did.
            When I got out I saw Rosmary and Divina in the dining room, and I explained that Mom wasn’t feeling very good.  Divina said, “She just played for us!”  But I had missed that. 
            Divina and another aide led a couple of residents away so they wouldn’t be frightened by anything I said, and I talked to Rosmary for a few minutes about Mom and the nature of the disease.  I told her how upbeat Mom had been while watching the opera on Sunday afternoon and then how browbeaten she seemed five minutes later, after being with Kay.  We talked about Kathy’s being away and the possibility that that made a difference in how Mom felt even though Mom hasn’t mentioned her.
Then, once out of 4,3,2, 1 #, I saw Sonia Chahal-Singh, the Executive Director, who turned out to be the one I’d found in the lobby one day and asked to help me solve an iPhone problem.  She recalled that on her own, and we both said simultaneously, “But I didn’t know that was you.”  She didn’t remember what her solution had been, but I did (turning the thing off and on). 
She invited me into her office to talk and remained standing.  Then, about five minutes into our conversation, she apologized and offered me a seat.  I know the technique of having people stand so they don’t get too comfortable and stay too long.  We use that at CCSF with our gabbiest colleagues.  But she never sat.  She asked me whether I knew that Sue Capson (Life’s Neighborhood director) had left, and I got the impression that she considered this grave.  I wondered (silently) whether she had defected to, say Kensington, but Sonia, who seemed relieved that I hadn’t heard so that she could tell me her way, said Sue had gone to another Aegis and that Sarah Jane, the weekend Rosmary Brown, would be taking her place.
 “And she’s a registered nurse.”
 I’d notice Sarah Jane in Perry’s more than usual, checking on residents and commiserating with whoever was coming through.  (Sara Jane was the one who looked sympathetically at me when Mom said, “My daughter gets a bit riled up”  the day I’d shown Kay the Nadine Martin writing in the pink pullover she thought Mom had admired enough on her –Kay--to steal it the following day.) 
Sonia also said that they’d been discussing an alternative to Kay and Mom’s rooming together.  Then she surprised me by saying that they were wondering about putting Mom in the better-functioning section of Aegis.  They’d discussed that, and staff on the Perry side said she played the piano, and she seemed more comfortable on the Perry side.  She said that changing roommates for Mom and Kay would also involve changing roommates on the better-functioning (I don’t think that’s the word she used) side.
 I asked whether she knew about Mom’s bathroom concerns, and she nodded and said, “Maybe we could find a roommate who isn’t in the room a lot.” 
Then I brought up the idea that Mom seemed to be getting away from the obsession at Aegis—for a while—and I thought maybe that was because she had to accommodate someone else.  I’d hate for her to return to having sole rights to the bathroom and having all her meals there.  I also recalled Mom’s moving very little while at home on Poshard (bedroom-bathroom-living room recliner—bathroom-kitchen to throw out poisoned medicine or make a call for help—bathroom) and then, once she got to Aegis, I was so impressed watching Mom charging down the corridors on her mission to secure supplies from the nurse, as if doing a power walk!  I commented that Kathy would be back in a week, and she should be involved in whatever decision we made, but it was good that they were discussing it now. 
            Anyway, that was the gist of it all.  If I remember anything more essential, I’ll let you know.

            Love,
            Tina/ Mom



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