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"I Am What I Remember."
Welcome to my weblog. My mother Libby D'Ignazio has Alzheimer's Disease. I love my mom as much as I love any person in
the world. I know she loves me. Having her slowly drift away from me and not know me is something I can't bear.
I will use this weblog (or "blog") as a public diary. I will tell you what I learn, experience and feel as I go through
my days as the son of a person with Alzheimer's. I hope that this journal will help others as they follow the same path I
am following.
-- Fred D'Ignazio (Fall 2005) |
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Please send me your comments by using the form on the "Contact Us" page. Let me know if you want me to post your comment in the blog. Also, tell me if you want your email address listed.
This blog appears each day with the newest article on the top and the oldest article stored in the blog's
monthly archives. In effect, it reads backwards!
To read the blogs in chronological order or to find a particular blog, click on Blog Articles.
For a quick introduction to the blog, take a look at:
"The Long and Winding Road" is the first article in the blog. It appeared on Monday, October 24, 2005.
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Monday, June 11, 2007
A Welcome Meeting of Minds
Friday my sister Lisa, my brothers Owsley
and Tim and I met to discuss Mom’s health. I was in North Carolina, but I participated in the meeting via speakerphone.
As you have read in my recent blogs, Mom’s
health is deteriorating, and everyone is worried. I voiced my fears for Mom, but I was impressed with my siblings’ reaction.
They didn’t despair over the situation or get defensive or resentful. Instead, they were all ready to move forward and take
steps to help Mom. Lisa suggested tasks for this coming week:
- Fred contacts his mother-in-law Doris Letts to see if she has any references for caregivers or adult daycares.
- Owsley contacts caregivers he knows to see if they have any references.
- Tim and Lisa continue taking Mom out on errands, shopping, meals, and doctor’s appointments. In particular they get
Mom to her eye doctor's appointments so she can finish the series of shots to treat her macular degeneration. Tim and Lisa
also try to find caregivers.
I was buoyed up by my siblings’ determination
not to give in to Dad’s recent bitter criticisms of his children and his defeatism over his wife’s poor health. They promised
to get started immediately to help Mom.
I have already written Doris.
In addition, I intend to call the local Alzheimer’s Association in Philadelphia
to see if they have any references. And I’m contacting Mom’s church to see if they can provide resources to help Mom.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Mom's Health Report Card
This week my sister Lisa took Mom to her doctor's appointment. Mom did well, but the doctor raised several health issues:
- Mom needs more exercise. She has a healthy appetite but is not walking or doing other forms of exercise.
- Mom should not be drinking alcohol. The doctor says Mom's gin and tonics and glasses of wine are "poison for her brain."
- Mom needs more mental stimulation. Her Alzheimer's will advance more slowly if Mom can play cards, do crossword
puzzles, do arithmetic, play board games, do puzzles, etc., anything to stir up her brain.
- Mom needs more social interaction. Frequent interaction with other people helps people with Alzheimer's.
The doctor recommended that Dad enroll Mom in an adult day care. She felt that Mom would get more social interaction and
mental stimulation in the day care. This sounds like good advice. Mom's only activities at home have been reduced to
making breakfast, watching TV, reading the newspaper, and going to meals at the Towne House. And reading and watching TV are
on hold now since Mom's vision has deteriorated.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
A Bright Spot
Yesterday I wrote in this blog about my fears for my mom who has Alzheimer's and who seems to be losing her eyesight.
Today I'd like to note a bright spot in our lives: our son Eric.
Eric took the train down to Philadelphia from New York last Friday night so he could attend his mom's 40th high
school reunion at Nether Providence High School, just outside of Philadelphia. Eric is a very sociable guy, and he made a
good impression on his mom's old classmates and their spouses.
I'm writing here, however, to describe Eric's effect on "Pop Pop" -- better known as Babe -- my dad. Since Mom started
showing symptoms of Alzheimers, the burden of caregiving has fallen mostly on my father. He has held up nobly, especially
for an 89-year-old man who is in poor health. But being with my mom 24-7 runs Dad down. We kids have recommended that he hire
a caregiver for both him and mom. But our advice falls on deaf ears. Above all, Dad prizes his independence. He will compromise
his and mom's health--to a degree--if it means he can remain independent. That means living in his own house, having his own
schedule, relying on himself and mom. Outsiders, even children, are kept at bay. There are only two people in Dad's inner
circle. That's the way it has always been, and that's the way it's going to stay.
Dad's striving to be independent even while his and mom's health fails makes him cranky. I mean cranky, big-time!
He is always the glass half-empty guy these days. He seems to look for the chinks in other people's armor, their Achilles
heel, and then he tells you about it.
For example, while I was home visiting my parents Dad never said "Thank you" or "I appreciate your being here." Instead
he told me, over and over, how little time I spend in Pennsylvania, how ungrateful I am, and he kept reminding me about how
quickly I was going to leave. He began talking this way on Thursday afternoon when I first arrived, and he reached a crescendo
of sourness and disappointment on Monday evening as I prepared to catch my plane back to North Carolina.
Thank goodness Eric was visiting Dad at the same time. Eric is the bright spot.
Dad is actually positive about Eric. Eric had a troubled few years as a high-school student. But then he went off to
college, he went to Japan, and he has become a businessman -- in the restaurant business! None of this qualifies him to be
on Pop Pop's good side. Yet somehow he is. And it's a beautiful thing.
While we were home this time, Eric and I spent hours on my parents' front porch talking. I was quiet much of the
time just enjoying listening to Eric talking with his Pop Pop. I heard in their voices a mutual respect and mutual affection,
and none of the deadly innuendos that Dad normally throws into his conversations.
Nice clean talk. No emotional baggage, no hurts, no wounds to keep them apart. Pop Pop and Eric's relationship is warm,
friendly, positive. It's a bright spot in our lives and my parents' lives.
Monday, June 4, 2007
A Turn for the Worse
Last week I visited my parents for four days. I flew into Philadelphia and lived with my Mom and Dad at their apartment
in Media, just outside the city.
I had heard stories from my brothers and sister about my parents' health deteriorating, but I was a little skeptical.
After all, they sounded good on the phone.
My view quickly changed after I arrived at my parents' home. My father is still on his "health plateau" and shows no
serious new problems. He is more feeble than ever and can barely get around. In addition, he has no energy and naps off and
on, all during the day. But, still, he is alive, mentally sharp most of the time, and he still acts like my father (critical,
grumpy, charming, and insightful).
But my poor Mom!
The biggest change is that Mom is going blind. I couldn't believe how little she can see. I tested her while I was home.
I would ask her to try to read a newspaper. (She couldn't.) I asked her to read a menu (she couldn't).
We sat for hours on my mom's front porch. These were very pleasant hours. We talked about whatever came to mind and greeted
passersby as they walked up the sidewalk in front of my parents' house.
Mom is still as friendly as ever, but she can't remember anyone outside her small circle of family and friends. And she
can't see ten feet in front of her.
I tested this by asking her to describe the people who walked by. She saw "people" but couldn't tell me any details about
them. She knew cars were going up and down the road, but they were all murky and seemed like they were going "too fast" for
Mom, even if they were going slowly and obeying the speed limit.
All of this made me wonder what Mom really can see ... and what she can't.
At the Towne House, Mom likes to sit beside the biggest open, unshuttered window, just to get more light to brighten
her darkened world.
She always starts off her meals at the Towne House by asking the waitress to light a candle. (I don't know what benefit
there is from a tiny candle, but Mom always asks.)
She now has that special light bulb at her booth in the Towne House bar. It is amazing how much brighter Mom's booth
is than the rest of the restaurant.
Mom has macular degeneration, according to my brothers and sister. (See earlier blogs.) She is getting regular shots
in both eyes to help with this condition.
Mom is still the sweetest, kindest person on the planet. But her world is quickly growing smaller and dimmer. I
can't imagine what it must be like to lose both your memory and your eyesight at the same time. It must frighten Mom. (Though
she doesn't say she's frightened.)
Still, it frightens me.
Monday, May 21, 2007
End of the Light Bulb Tale
Last week I related my cousin Dot's story about the light bulb at the Towne House. Babe and Libby were at dinner one
night in their booth in the Towne House bar, and Babe asked for a brighter light bulb. The Towne House staff went out into
night and got Babe his bulb, but Dot left before the bulb was installed.
I called my Dad and asked him what happened. His response: "I'm not talking. Ask John Carnie."
I called John Carnie Saturday and asked him how things turned out. John explained that there are five booths in the bar.
Mom and Dad sit at the end booth near the side door. All the booths have Tiffany lamps hanging above them to provide light.
Light in the Towne House is deliberately kept low and "romantic."
My mom's eyesight is not good. Dad decided Mom needed a brighter bulb so she could read her menu more easily. He asked
for the brighter bulb to help Mom.
John said that he changed the bulb immediately after my parents left the booth, after their dinner. But the new bulb
created a problem. The other four bulbs are 25W bulbs. The new bulb Dad requested was 60W. The booth looked as if it was lit
up by a spotlight.
John came up with a good solution. He told the entire bar room staff to be ready for Mom and Dad's arrival each evening
by switching from a 25W to a 60W bulb.
When Mom arrived she could see her menu and be queen bee, lit up by her extra bright light bulb.
Then when Mom and Dad departed each evening, the staff could quickly switch bulbs again from a 60W to a 25W bulb. Her
booth would again be dimly lit, in keeping with the Towne House's time-honored atmosphere.
Mom and Dad are happy. John and his staff are happy. The customers are happy.
So ends the tale of "Babe and the Light Bulb!"
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2007.06.01 |
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2006.12.01 |
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2005.12.01 |
2005.11.01 |
2005.10.01
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