A Sandwich Day

My maternal grandmother was a strong, wise, no-nonsense woman. Grandma used to talk about things that are sent to our lives with the sole purpose of "vexing" a person. Yesterday was definitely a day sent to vex me.

My kid was home sick from school. She's prone to bladder infections, and we don't have any warning until she curls up in a ball and runs a temperature. She was curled up in said ball running said temperature when I called mom for our daily check-in. Since the dementia invaded our lives, I can tell from the first words how mom is, and I structure my day accordingly.

"Hi Mom."

"Well, I've done it now."

"Why, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"I've locked myself in and I can't get out."

My mom's apartment has a deadbolt, a locking door and a security chain. The chain had been sticking and she hadn't used it in over a year. Monday night mom decided to put the chain on the door again, and now it was stuck fast and she couldn't get it out of the track. More important, I couldn't get in to help her.  This was big, and my kid was home sick.

Mom was panicking, and was clearly having what we call a "fuzzy" day, which means the confusion is particularly bad.  I kept her on the phone, I told her to get the WD-40 out of the closet and try it. That didn't work. She tried pushing it in, jiggling it and then we gave up, hung up and I called my father-in-law, who is a retired locksmith, and then I called the building superintendent. Between the two of them, they were able to go to mom's, cut the chain off and get in to mom before I could herd the kid out the door and go over. I've told the superintendent that I will pay to replace the chain after mom leaves.

It was a repeat everything 5 times day.  These days are vexing in and of themselves. For example, we are planning to go out for brunch on Mother's Day, and mom was writing it down to try to jog her brain into remembering. She was quite concerned that she didn't have a present for me, and I explained to her-again-that I was the present giver this time and she was the present getter.

"So I'm not a mother then?" she said, looking quite confused. My daughter, who had been playing quietly in the corner on my Playbook, looked up instantly at that.

"You're my mom, mom, and I'm the Kid's mom. She buys me a present and I buy you a present." I explained. We've had this conversation a few times the past week, but I can normally shield it from the Kid.

It took two more rounds before mom settled down, but I could tell it had bothered the Kid. I've tried to shield her from the day to day life of dementia as much as possible. She understands that Grandma is sick, but lives in hope of Grandma getting better so they can resume their time together without me. On the good days, my mother floats the idea of watching the Kid again. We tried it when the Kid came home sick on Monday because I had a business meeting with a new client. My husband went over and had lunch with them, so mom and the Kid were only alone about an hour total, and the Kid called me partway through, a sure sign her anxiety was kicking in.

The vex wasn't done with me yet. While finishing off the lunch dishes, I turned on the cold water in the kitchen to rinse out the sink. When I tried to turn it off, the tap spun in a merry circle, doing absolutely zip-squat to turn off the water which was blasting full force into the sink. I called my father-in-law (again) to ask him how I turn it off, and when I  walked into the living room to grab my phone book to call the superintendent's cell phone (again) I turned around to find my mother on her hands and knees under the sink investigating. She then couldn't get up, so I had to wrap my arms around her under her arms and lift her up off the floor. I couldn't find the shut off valve under the sink, so the superintendent had to come and replace the taps. A day that was sent to vex me.

It's a tightrope,this dance of dementia. I have to balance my mom's need to see her only granddaughter with the increase in my daughter's anxiety if mom is having a fuzzy day.  Some times, like this week, I have no option, and the Kid has to come with, even though I know mom is having a bad day. I don't push the issue, and wait for the Kid to talk when she's ready.

There is no win in this. There is only juggling as fast as I can, balancing the needs of my mom, my daughter, my family and me, and hoping that the days that are sent to vex me are few and far between.