The old John Lennon song comes back to haunt me when I get so far behind. You know the kind of feeling. You are on auto-pilot, not paying attention. The only things that get done are the necessary obligations, and the pressing emergencies that come from everyone’s distress. So it has been a month since I have sat down to type.
It has been a really hard month. It seems like each day I see a little more erosion of mom’s personality. She has no zest at all. She won’t even talk to me unless I really insist on a verbal response. More often than not I have to spoon feed her to get her to finish her meals.
I think the worst development in the past month is how I have come to really dislike my own reactions. I can get impatient with Mom when she “changes her mind” and becomes uncooperative in the middle of a transfer to the commode or while I’m trying to file her nails. I find my self raising my voice when she forgets to swallow her pills, while I am reminding her not to chew them. Of course the whole time she is saying, “I am not chewing it…” as she grinds away on a capsule. I know she is not lying when she tells me “I did swallow it.”  Her brain can’t fill in the gap between the pill in her mouth and my instructions. So she tells me what ever will make me stop giving her the pills. But that is not intentional, that is typical of the disease. Why do I get frustrated. I should be kinder.
Well, this is kind of a pointless post, isn’t it? But that seems to be the tenor of my times lately. It all feels pointless. Thank you to everyone who helps with Mom, who prays for her, couldn’t do it without you.
peace

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