Should We Tell Her What's Wrong?
Time here -- in Gulfport, Mississippi -- is measured as "before Katrina" or "after Katrina."
We live 12 miles inland. For us, Hurricane Katrina's biggest danger was storm surge. My husband Paul had to stay in town for work, but he wanted me and Momma to leave. I wanted to leave, too.
"No," Momma said. "God knows where we are."
The biggest storm of our lives was barreling toward us, but she didn't give it another thought. The unspoken reason: her pets. Momma had six cats, all former strays she'd taken in, plus two shelter dogs. There was also Poncho, the parrot, who could mimic her perfectly. "You want some fresh water?" he said, just like her. She spoiled them rotten. And there was no way she was going to leave them behind because of the storm. She just went to bed and slept as if nothing were happening.
After Katrina hit, the beautiful coast we had known all our lives was barely recognizable. Many friends' homes were reduced to slabs. We were fortunate and only had minor damage. And the pets were OK.
After Hurricane Katrina
My kids noticed it before I did. "Grandma's asking the same questions a lot," Jamie said when she came home from college for the weekend. It was true -- Momma kept asking us whether she'd fed her pets.
"Well, she's older," I told her. "That just happens, honey, our memory starts going." I chalked it up to old age, or maybe being stressed after the hurricane. It was a stressful time.
But then the signs got clearer. Other relatives asked about Momma's memory. Jamie said it was getting worse. I was really starting to worry.
Getting the Diagnosis
One day Momma asked me if I could take over her checkbook. "I just can't seem to wrap my head around it anymore, Rhonda."
This was big. Momma had been a bookkeeper. If she couldn't handle her checkbook, it was time to see the doctor.
"You know how you've been saying you're having problems? Well, let's get things checked out," I told her.
I took her to a neurologist. She didn't want to go, but she trusted me.
The neurologist didn't tell her what was wrong -- he looked right past her and told me. "Alzheimer's disease," he said.
She didn't react. I didn't, either. We both drove home as if nothing had happened. I guess I didn't know what she had absorbed and I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.
Having "The Talk"
Later that night, I had a long talk with my husband. "I don't know if she understands," I said. "Should I tell her?"
"I would want to know," Paul said.
I nodded. I went to her room and sat on the edge of her bed.
She looked up. "Rhonda, what's wrong with me?" she asked.
I took a deep breath. "Momma, they say you have Alzheimer's." The tears started down my face.
She looked at me for a moment. She was calm.
She pointed to her head. "I may not remember you here," she said. "But I'll always remember you here."
She pointed to her heart.
My mother, Mary Porterfield, died of Alzheimer's disease in May 2012.
I take care of the pets now. Poncho the parrot still talks in her voice: "You want some fresh water?" It's precious to me. I pray that my children never have to go through this with me.
Find Home CareComments
Hi Sadfulheart - you, in your heart, as your Mom's daughter, know what's best for her, especially since she lived with you for so long. So many of our elderly are dropped off, and forgotten like yesterday's dirty laundry. Continue to visit your Mom and long as you feel the visits are comforting to her. At some point, you may naturally wean yourself of visiting. Remember, generally those that pass through the veil try to do so at a time when no one is there - trying to protect you from pain (to the end). Take care, and continue being the loving, caring daughter that you are. Sometimes our siblings understand the least of all. Your brother said his statement the way he did probably just trying to make light of the situation - it failed.
CA-Claire, thank you so much for replying so quick. I never thought of not telling the siblings, but, you are right. When I see Mom, I will email them and give them an update. Some answer, some don't. They may just say, thanks for letting me know, She is in God's hands. I know that, but, I feel they could show more compassion. My husband and daughter told me to quite letting them know anything. If it were them going most of the time, I would want to have updates. But, it is each their own. One time when I went there, my brother and his wife was there. He looked at me and said, you need to just get a job up here. At least you would be getting paid for being here all the time. He's really not a bad person, but, him and his wife think they know what is best for moma now.
Hi Sadfulheart - I see my Dad in the AL facility as often as I feel like it. Sometimes I see him 4 days out of 7 (and I work full time). I just don't tell the sibs how frequently I go. They all have different relationships with him. I'm his baby girl (at nearly 56). The sibs live 1 hour, 5 hours, and 6 hours away, and come less frequently. To each their own.
This story was so helpful to me. My mom lived w/me for 10yrs. She is now in a nursing home. She is 91 yrs old. My siblings could not take her. I visit her alot & some of my siblings, say, if you keep going up there so much, she will never get use to the place. I'm glad to know, there are other people who feel like they want to go and see their mom/loved one. They made me feel like I was crazy. I know it's not been easy on them, but, they didn't live w/her for 10yrs and bond like we did. Also, thanks for sharing about taking care of ourselves. I felt so guilty for so long after mom was placed in a nursing home that I nearly fell apart then. But, I'm learning, I had to do what I needed to do. It took months. I am better w/the situation now, but, will never stop thinking about her most of the time.
Even a year later - your message is very important! Especially when you consider the comment at the end that 1 out of 3 women will die from cardiovascular related incidents (heart attacks, stroke, etc.) Sobering statistics!
Thank you for sharing your journey with us. One of the most difficult things to do is for caregivers to make time for themselves. If you get behind in self-care it's difficult to catch up.