Another post on my Mom saga - if you find these posts depressing, you may want to skip today. I post these things in order to put my thoughts together and to look back and see how things happened and my thoughts at the time. Maybe these posts could be helpful to anyone who goes through dementia with a parent. But maybe some people might find them difficult to read.
Yesterday was the big day. I took Mom to the new facility. The day started off great. Mom seemed to be at her best. She was actually up and at 'em - having breakfast - when I arrived at Royal Estates around 8:30. She has rarely gotten up and had breakfast since moving to her RE. Saying NEVER has she gotten up for breakfast since being there would not be an exaggeration. Of course, she had not packed her suitcase, which I had left out for her. That was no surprise. She was dressed in a cute little T-shirt and her hip-hugger skinny jeans and shoes that were way too inappropriate for an 85 year old lady with balance issues.
Things went well upon arriving at the House of Hope, although Mom recognized it as a place she had visited a friend years ago - "a place for crazy people" is how she put it. My brother and I got her settled into her room where a barrage of folks came by to introduce themselves and check Mom in. When they weighed her, she was down another ten pounds since March (another sign that she was not doing well on her own). Things were going so well with the admissions, that my brother left me to have lunch with Mom and see to things by myself.
It was when they seated us for lunch that things went to hell in a hand basket (I don't know where that saying comes from, but it seems appropriate). I should say that before that, she was getting a bit ugly with me, but I put her off and did not let her pick a fight. At lunch, she did not need anyone to fight with; she just threw several big fits in her room. I had to leave her room and the wing, since I seemed to be the focus of her anger, and she was demanding to be taken home. I didn't want to leave her, but it was for the best. I did stay around the rest of the day, but not where she could see me. The really bad part was that she had her phone and was calling my brothers and sister. At first she was angry and yelling and wanting them to come get her. Toward the end of the day she had turned pitiful. All of which were manipulative and hard on my siblings.
Now let me say that I had/have a real peace about placing Mom at the HOH. No matter that she was having a good day yesterday, she is not okay on her own. It was and is the right decision. It was and is hard on us, though.
Some of the errands I had to do while out and about in WF was picking up her little dog, Buddy. Also while I was at her old apt, I picked up five of the designer dresses, which she bought back in March on a wild shopping spree with her boyfriend. The dresses were all very nice, very sexy, and very expensive. I dropped the dresses off at the cleaners since they all had food stains down the front (all have to be dry cleaned). The cleaners had me sign a waiver in case the color in the dresses "ran" which apparently could happen with Calvin Klein dresses, and because the dresses were so expensive. Great.
I was worn out when I got home, but at peace.