The Mom & Me Journals dot Net
The definitive, eccentric journal of an unlikely caregiver, continued.

Apologia for these journals:
    They are not about taking care of a relative with moderate to severe Alzheimer's/senile dementia.
    For an explanation of what these journals are about, click the link above.
    For internet sources that are about caring for relatives with moderate to severe
        Alzheimer's/senile dementia, click through the Honorable Alzheimer's Blogs in my
        links section to the right.

7 minute Audio Introduction to The Mom & Me Journals [a bit dated, at the moment]

Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Let go, let go, let go
    This post was the only post published on a now defunct blog that I started in Blogger on blogspot almost immediately after losing my domain, "The Mom & Me Journals dot Net". Although the post speaks about a renewed interest in posting, after writing this post several other issues competed for my attention, not the least of which was an attempt to recover my domain. That particular attempt failed. Finally, a little less than a month after I published this post, I decided, since my material continued to exist on Blogger and I wasn't, then, and am still not sure whether I'll be establishing a new domain for all this stuff, I decided to republish all my journals on Blogger through Blogspot. Soon after I did this, I noticed that publishing this particular journal on Bloggers servers would work better if I thinned out the number of posts, here, and transferred them to archives. It's repetitive, slow work, for which, fortunately, I have a gift and in which I am still involved. I've gotten through 2004, which resides at Mom & Me Two Archive and have begun year 2005, which resides at Mom & Me Three Archive. As I go I'm transferring comments, as well, in the same manner in which the lone comment left on this post by Karma has been transferred.

    For all the letting go I've been doing in the recent past, the one action I seem to have regrasped with renewed enthusiasm is journal posting. I'm having no trouble letting go of my domain. I'm having no trouble letting go of my former site (except as an archive, most of which I expect to republish at a later date; I think a piece of my soul would have died if I had lost the material, though). I'm having no trouble letting go of my rapacious insistence on original template design (which used to take me hours of cognitive sweat and afforded me hours of cognitive pleasure). After months of lackadaisical posting, though, suddenly I'm finding a need to post frequently and loquaciously, again.
    I think it's anxiety about my mother. She seems, lately, to be undergoing an obvious and accelerated decline (I know, Dr. Thomas, I'm not supposed to call, or think of, it as "decline" and I don't want to but, well, I'm at a linguistic loss at the moment). The increased physical frailty, the falling, the barely noticeable recovery, yi, yi...the only aspect of the last few weeks that keeps my stamina up is that her humor, her will and her spirit remain firmly, sometimes even annoyingly but never regrettably, intact.
    All the daily, sometimes hourly questions:    As usual, I'm trying hard not to speculate into the future, beyond this blip. My anxiety, though, continues to present me with worrisome suggestions. As I imagine worsening scenarios, I catch myself breathing like a race horse in the final lap...and try to remind myself to slow down, breathe, stay in the moment, which is never as bad as premonition tends to promise.
    The discomfort from the falls, which rarely manifests as outright pain, rather as "grabbing" and complaints of unusual "stiffness" has caused my mother's blood pressure to spike frequently, so I've added that fourth 10 mg lisinopril tablet to her medicine regimen as of today. I expect some of the spike is also do to my obvious anxiety, which breaks through at the most inconvenient of moments. Since she is extremely reluctant to exercise, right now, I've added a few moves to her usual standing up routine, as well as extended this revised routine to repetitions when she's walking around (with increased aid from the walker and/or me) and it looks like she's going to falter:
  1. "Unfold yourself, slowly, Mom."
  2. "Pull yourself up out of your hips and thighs. Does that take care of the grabbing (if she's complaining of this)?"
    To which she always responds, "Oh, yes, that's much better."
  3. "Finish straightening up."
  4. "Drop shoulders all the way."
  5. "Flex your knees a little and pull them in line."
  6. "Now, do the hootchy kootchy (wiggling her hips from side to side)."
  7. "Okay, step straight out, not to the side (she has a tendency to try to turn into the direction she's intending to go as she takes her first step, which often is her undoing in terms of balance)."
  8. [Repeated several times throughout whatever journey we're taking] "Good. Good. Here we go. Walk right into me. Don't overreach yourself. Concentrate on what you're doing, not where you're going or what you're noticing around you along the way."
    My forearms are even stronger, now, than they were about a month ago, and they were pretty strong, then. Even so, I notice that when she can walk on her own, using house elements as her props, she actually does much better than when I'm her prop. I've told her this often, but I think there are many times when she needs the emotional support of knowing she can lean on and into me. So, there's yet another hourly dilemma: To support or to insist she find her support in her sturdy, close environment?

Miscellanea:    Sounds like she's rousing, earlier than I expected. Good sign.

Powered by Blogger