Do I need to say it? More aggression, accusations, another fall while flailing away at the pregnant care giver, refusal to take med’s, no sleep. Auto pilot for the staff and me: fatigue, disappointments, acceptance that things have changed for the worse.
I sat with her this afternoon. Held the water glass with the bent straw as she drew up cold water to quench her dry mouth. No wig, no teeth and that C collar. She does look pitiful, but her eyes aren’t pitiful. Her very bruised left elbow looks angry. I iced it down for her. Another injury. The staff is defensive. They are trying to protect, reason with, talk soft. It doesn’t matter, right now, to my aunt. They are shocked at the strength of my 94 y/o aunt. I am not shocked; she moved tonnage of stuff into her home and yard over the years. That had to do something.
Regardless of how askew my aunt is, she did like the fact I fixed her eyeglasses and gave me a head rub and squeezed my hands then clutched my hand to inform me the pregnant care giver hates her and is poisoning her.
Like I said, broken record. This has devolved into Dementia Woes…yet both of those home stand there, testaments to small fortunes being spent toward filling them. The Hoarding designation as some part of OCD is apparent to anyone that deals with a true, big time hoarder. Add suspected dementia to the cart and Obsession is taken to a new dimension.