Slow decline

The scariest thought hit me today: we've already experienced the highest point of Mom's mental state. From now until the end, it will only get worse.
It will only get worse.

Thank god I'm not an only child. I know I would be a different person if I had been, so it doesn't matter for the other "many worlds" theory's universes out there in which I am an only child or even more complex - I don't exist or (gasp!) I'm male. (Ha ha.) Anyway, what I'm trying to write is that I'm incredibly lucky and thankful for this luck.

My oldest sister got to experience the "broken record" thing Mom does lately for one night. She told me all about it the following morning after sleeping over at Mom's new home. I said, "yeah, I know. Welcome to the hell I've been living in. 24/7. It's been fun."

Despite the terrible sentence structure of my reply to her I think she really understood why I've been so stressed out. (Because dealing with an ex boyfriend who refuses to sell a house we own together [we broke up about a year ago] isn't enough to deal with on a daily basis. No, please. Here, have a side of "Dementia Mom.") I know, I know. "Wha, wha, whaaa..."


Today was Mom's third day in her new place. When I came over, she seemed a little frazzled, but everything is so new. It is hard for her to make new memories so little things like, "keep your keys in this basket by the door" is impossible to remember. We have to repeat these instructions to her over and over again. It's very frustrating, but I can't imagine how frustrating it is for her.

What strikes me is how vocal she is about things she's unsure of. When I moved in to my childhood home with her she would see one of my boxes in the dining room and ask, "what's that?" at least once a day. I couldn't understand what was going on. Even after I labelled it "Penny's Stuff" it took about a month for it to really sink in.

"What's that" has been her most frequently used statement. Any time she sees something that seems new to her, she says it. I think that I would keep that question to myself or investigate by, say, opening the box and looking inside it if I wasn't sure of what it was instead of just pointing and voicing my confusion. But I honestly have no idea how I would be if my brain was changing in the ways that Alzheimer's changes it. This must be part of the disease.

Dammit. I'm mad I have to add this stupid fucking disease to my family's medical history now when I go to a doctor. Goddammit all to hell. Fuck Cancer. Fuck Alzheimer's. Fuck Heart Disease.

Fuck Gingivitis while we're at it.


(Side note - I had no idea how to spell "dammit" until I ran spellcheck just now. I've been writing "damnit" my whole life, which is apparently wrong.)