Still Declining

My mom is continuing to decline. I don’t know if it’s the dementia or something else, but she is having severe trouble communicating. She just can’t seem to get the right words out and most of it makes little sense. It’s so hard to hear her because hee breath gives out before her sentence is finished. Fortunately sometimes her speaking is better than other times.

She can’t handle silverware anymore because her coordination has become severely impaired. One of my visits last week was during lunch time. I had never seen her have this much trouble eating and talking … to me, it got worse over night. I had to go back alone to her room, leaving her in the lunchroom with the aides and nurses, and cry my eyes out. It took everything I had not to cry in front of her. I have been avoided lunch and dinner time for that reason.

That day I needed strength, but I was so upset I couldn’t remember a single scripture that dealt with strength. I told the Lord I knew there were promises of strength in the Bible and asked Him to please strengthen me. I was able to not cry hysterically in front of my mother. The Lord did come through.

I did cry when I got home … loud enough to scare my cat Xena. She waited until my nose stopped running before she decided to get close to me. I don’t blame my little buddy for that.

It breaks my heart to see my mother so helpless like this. Strong, intelligent, determined … now too weak to walk, on oxygen (when she’ll keep it on), not understanding why she can’t walk to the bathroom and crying out for her own mother.

She seems to get active at night. They had to put her mattress in the floor so she wouldn’t hurt herself when she tries to get out of bed. They’ve even put a foam mat by the bed to try to protect her. The nurses and aides find her out of bed quite often, having crawled into the floor still determined to make it to the bathroom herself. She doesn’t understand that she is too weak and unbalanced to stand, much less walk. It breaks my heart.

She sleeps through most of my visits now, so I spend my time working and praying in her room. I prayed for her today before I left, and she prayed for me. I couldn’t understand her — her voice was weak and the words were muddled, but I knew my Mom was praying for me and I know the Lord understood her.

I’ve shortened my visits to just a couple of hours because of the emotional toll it takes on me. I am out there almost every day now. I still feel guilty, though. I have to work, though, and it takes a clear mind to be able to write for a living. She wouldn’t want me to make myself sick — I know that. It’s just hard to leave her there like that.

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