Mom no longer can walk, which is a physical result of her body breaking down. Okay, it is most likely due to a stroke, but at least she can still stand, and all the rest, or can she?
I can handle the physical changes, because it simply means some adjustments in routines, like having a second home support worker come to visit, to help Mom go potty, do a change, and sponge bath. But when it is the mind, that is something else.
It terrifies me, and last night I had a taste of that.
For months now Mom has enjoyed her Kindle, and is like a pro in using it. She does love her reading, but last night something happened, that shook me. She suddenly, in mid-use, forgot how to work the Kindle.
No amount of explanation, of showing her could manage to refresh her memory. She simply couldn’t grasp how to change the page on the device, and it frustrated her. Scared me, so we put it aside, and she sort of watched television. Not sure if she was even able to enjoy that, then when I gave her headphones to use, she looked confused.
It was almost as if she didn’t know what they were, let alone use them. I had to put them on for her, and that seemed to help.
Then going to bed, I have her put her feet more underneath her, so she can stand. This time, she moved them further out, as if everything was backwards. When I told her to stick her feet out, so they wouldn’t drag while wheeling her for a potty break and depend change, she pulled the feet inwards.
And yet, this morning, all is fine. She is using the Kindle again, without any troubles ( so far ) and when moving her, she pulls her legs back when told, puts them out when told.
This is life, but damn, it scares the crap out of me. Physical frailities are one thing, mental ones are quite another story.
Now comes the hard part.
I wonder if I am strong enough to cope with these new changes in her condition? I think, honestly, that this is one of the hardest tasks I have ever done. My head is splitting, my eyes are blurring, because I am worrying, about what next. She forgets she has juice in her mouth, so takes more, and chokes. She is far more nervous, but won’t say why, though I am sure it is the break down of her ability to do simple tasks. The frustration level has to be high, and how she is managing to cope is beyond me. I doubt I could summon up that kind of courage, strength, to keep on going.
And that frightens me as well. Is she nearing the point of giving up?
This really is a lonely existence, for us all. David sees how it gnaws at me, and I think, so does Mom. Yet I try to hide it from her, not so much from David, but maybe I need to hide it more? And yet, who then do I talk to about it? This is a very lonely job, a heavy burden that I wonder, if I can manage.
Yet, I know there is no other choice. I can’t simply walk away, or ignore it. So handle it, I have to.