Hungry?

Yesterday I spoke with my uncle Ralph at a piano recital (my two boys and a healthy sampling of his grandkids made up the majority of the performers). He told me about talking to Mee Maw on the phone Saturday morning.

She reported that she awoke and felt hungry, so she knew it was time for breakfast. She got up, got dressed, and made her way down to the dining area. There was no one there, so she sat in her chair to wait for the meal to be served.

Shortly thereafter Mitch, an overnight attendant that she knows well, stopped by. "Mrs. Matthews, what are you doing down here at this time of night?" he asked.

"Waiting for breakfast. What time is it?" Mee Maw replied.

"It's 1:30 in the morning," Mitch said. "You need to go back to your room and get some more sleep!"

She took his suggestion and went back to bed. When she awoke again, she got dressed and went for breakfast.

The same exchange occurred. Only the time had changed.

Mee Maw told Ralph that she went through that process FOUR TIMES in the course of the morning. My comment to Ralph, and his remark to his mother, was that at least she got some good exercise!

And she did finally get some breakfast. At the usual time, as usual.

Sunday Update - More Hunger: My father told me that Ralph called him this morning. He said that he called Mee Maw again, and she was complaining about breakfast. "They are OUT of everything to eat here. There is NOTHING to eat! And I'm hungry!"

Ever the dutiful son, Ralph called back and talked to one of the staff. He was told that they took food down to Mee Maw's room TWICE that morning, and she refused to eat anything. He asked them to prepare a tray one more time and take it back to her. "Tell her that her son Ralph told you to bring it, and tell her that he said she was supposed to eat it all," he told them.

I have not heard if she ate it. I certainly hope so.

Changing Times

Last Saturday Lori went for her weekly visit. She found Mee Maw well and quite easy to talk to. While discussing cooking and recipes (anyone know her recipe for chicken chow mein?), Lori mentioned a couple of leftover baked sweet potatoes in our refrigerator and said that she was thinking of making a sweet potato casserole from them. "Why, I've never heard of such a thing!" exclaimed Mee Maw. "How do you make it?"

Now, we family members can remember holiday meals during which she heartily devoured sweet potato casserole with marshmallow topping and (before she decided she couldn't eat them) pecans. She always would say how much she loved it. Now, she apparently cannot remember that.

That was the only "unusual" moment of Lori's visit.

I found out this evening from my mother that Mee Maw has spent this week lying across her bed. Apparently she has not even changed clothes or made it down to meals. She has even been skipping breakfast, which she will quickly tell you is her favorite meal of the day. On Tuesday morning the nursing staff brought her a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich and got her to eat it. Other than that, we don't know if she has even left her room or eaten anything all week. She has called my parents at a few odd times to ask them what time it is or what she is supposed to do next. Then she lies back down across her bed and naps. Upon awakening, she has no idea of the time of day or how much time has passed. So, she picks up the phone.

She, like so many elderly patients, is overly concerned about her bowel habits. It seems that she is to the point of making herself sick if she does not "go" regularly. Of course, if she doesn't eat, there is nothing to eliminate, which only compounds her worries. With her sleeping and confusion she cannot always remember if she does "take care of business". This inordinate fear of going days without "producing" may ultimately be at the root of this current episode. We hope it is no more serious than this. I hope this subject goes away, because I get a bit embarrassed writing about it!

Note: If you are "kinfolk" and you know some others in our rather large family who would be interested in keeping updated on Mee Maw (or Aunt Mildred, to many), please send them a link to this blog. If you are a family friend, or know a family friend who would like this information, point them in this direction. If you are just a curious onlooker, HOWDY!

And feel free to post a comment. Any messages to Mee Maw will be relayed to her.

"The OTHER Half???"

My dad recounted something that occurred Tuesday that I must share.

My mother got a phone call from Mee Maw Tuesday morning. "Annie Ruth, I need you to come up here and show me where the other half of my glasses are!"

"The WHAT?" asked my mother.

"The other half of my glasses. I can't find them anywhere." said Mee Maw.

Mom left and went to the facility after grabbing a spare set of spectacles from Mee Maw's house. When she arrived, Mee Maw was, er, occupied elsewhere (if you get my drift), so Mom searched the room, stripped the bed, ransacked drawers and chair cushions, and looked everywhere (except the locked bathroom, of course) for a broken pair of glasses or a lost lens. When Mee Maw emerged, she was wearing her normal glasses with both lenses and the frame intact.

Mom quizzed her about what she needed, and Mee Maw insisted that she could not find the other half of her glasses. Realizing after repeated and reworded questions that she was outmatched in the confusion department, Mom dropped the subject and stayed for a visit. Afterward she reported that Mee Maw seemed more like her old self than she has in months, both mentally and physically, except for the puzzling references to her glasses.

Later on Tuesday (or maybe it was the next day), my uncle Ralph came by work to visit his brother. Dad asked him if he had spoken with their mother recently. Ralph said that he and his wife had spent some time with her on Monday evening, as usual, and that she seemed more like normal. She did not mention any pain, and she appeared more mobile than she had been since she broke her back cleaning up the dog puke in her kitchen.

Then Ralph told Dad that Mee Maw had called him on Tuesday morning asking if he knew the whereabouts of "the other half of her glasses". When he could not make sense of it, he handed the phone to Ann, who made her own valiant attempts to understand what was going on. Apparently when she was unable to get help from Ralph or Ann, Mee Maw then called my mother about the same thing.

All concerned have agreed to drop this unless she brings it back up. But still the question remains. . .

"The other half of her glasses????"

"A Little Fuzzy"

That's how Lori described Mee Maw after her visit early Saturday afternoon.

When she arrived at about 1:30, Mee Maw was lying across her bed, napping. Lori helped her up and walked her over to her chair. They had a nice hour or so together. My cousin Tim and his family had visited earlier in the day. That and the round trip to the dining area for lunch just "wore her out".

In the course of conversation Lori tried to discern some things that had happened through the day. Mee Maw had a nice dress laid out, as though she had worn it recently. Lori pieced together that there had been some type of Easter activity, but Mee Maw was unable to see it when it happened, even though she attended. The "fog" from being drowsy did not help her memory one bit.

Mee Maw has taken to playing Bingo regularly. She has accumulated a few "Bingo Bucks", which are the prize certificates that are redeemed occasionally for things such as fancy toiletries and books. My mother picked out a large-print crossword puzzle book for Mee Maw to try. She did, and proclaimed it too difficult. Lori looked it over. In the first six puzzles, she found only ONE clue that she could answer! And she works the crossword puzzle and the Sudoku number puzzle every day in the newspaper. Anyone know who the president of Brazil was from 1906 to 1909? I didn't think so. Neither does Mee Maw.

Anyway, on Easter Sunday my parents went by to see her before the evening service at church. She had just finished picking at (and possibly eating a bite or two) of a salad for supper. They said she was still a bit disoriented, but she was able to hold good conversations with them before they left. As always, she complained about my father not coming to see her enough. I imagine she has words about EVERYONE not coming to see her enough.

She is really bored. She cannot figure out how to work the remote control for the TV. The couple of crossword puzzle books she has are either too hard or the print is too small (though it is larger than that in some of the magazines she reads. Go figure.). She cannot jog around the building, obviously. She won't try to take up her knitting. She needs encouragement and visitors. Write her a letter, call her, or go by and spend a few minutes chatting. You'll enjoy it, and she will probably enjoy it more than she will admit.

What a Difference . . .

. . . a few hours can make.

Lori went up Saturday afternoon to see Mee Maw. She said that Mee Maw was her old self. She was lying in bed, tired because of the long night she had the night before.

*** NOTE to those outside of Decatur: Friday night was probably the scariest night, weather-wise, that some of us have seen since the night of April 3rd, 1974, when so many tornadoes crossed the country, including here. There was hail ranging from pea-sized to golf-ball-sized, and a couple of reports of baseball-sized hail. There were tornadoes sighted, but this time there was minimal damage. Mee Maw said that the nursing staff came by with a wheelchair during the worst of the storm and took all of the residents to a safe central room at the facility. Once released back to her room, she was still worried because of the thunder and stormy noises from outside, so she did not sleep much. That explains her tiredness soon after lunch on Saturday. END NOTE ***

When Lori was with her, Mee Maw was very conversational. She asked about all of our children, demanding to see a photo of her oldest great-grandson's apartment, asking about our daughter's plans for after she graduates from college in May, and other details of family, church, and school life. They joked together about some things and had a really good visit. As Lori was leaving, Mee Maw's parting comment was, "I guess it's not so unspeakable that a boy go up north and get a wife if he gets one as good as you." I'm glad that 1) she forgives me for finding a "Yankee"; and 2) she agrees with me on the quality of my pick.

After supper James went to see her with his youngest son Daniel and his wife Solita. Mee Maw was in bed, sleeping soundly. She was roused and helped over to her chair. She was not very responsive to anything, and even fell asleep in the chair a few moments after settling in. When attempts to wake her failed, they tried to get her up and back to bed. She was practically unable to function at all. Finally, James took one side and Daniel the other, while Solita operated Mee Maw's legs to walk her back over to the bed.

The belief (hope!) is that Mee Maw was given a sleeping pill a couple of hours early and was in a drug-induced stupor that clouded her mind enough to keep her from interacting with others. This afternoon my parents went up to visit her, and she seemed pretty much back to normal. It remains to be seen if this is portentious of another decline, or if it was just an isolated incident.

Those of you in the family keep praying and sending her notes and things. She appreciates all contacts from anyone who visits, calls, or writes.

Spring Ahead?

Last Friday my mother went to see her mother-in-law. She reported that Mee Maw was practically her old self. She was able to converse intelligently, and even seemed to be in less pain than usual.

My wife and younger sons visited her on Saturday before lunch. When they arrived, her son James was there with Dixie, Mee Maw's dog. Everyone had a good time, and Mee Maw was still herself. She insisted on walking her son out to the door with the dog, and as they walked down the hall she made sure that everyone there recognized her pet. The nurses have seen this before, so they were ready with their greetings as the convoy passed.

After seeing the first two visitors out the door, Lori and the boys sat with her in the sitting area in the front of the facility and chatted for a while. Lori gave Mee Maw a Bible crossword book that we had purchased for her. She seemed truly thrilled to have it. We certainly hope that she uses it and enjoys exercising her mind.

When our crew was ready to leave as lunchtime approached, Mee Maw insisted on getting out of the chair and walking them to the door also. She still moves slowly, but she seemed able to get around well. Her mind was as sharp as ever. She was even looking forwards to the afternoon Bingo session.

Then came Sunday. The "powers-that-be" in their self-described infinite wisdom have ordained that all clocks be turned ahead one hour. Mee Maw knew about this. James told her that he would return before her bedtime to set her clocks ahead. All of this fuss about the clock apparently confused her again, because when my parents visited her on Sunday, she did not know what day it was, what time it was, why the clocks had to be changed again (which they didn't) and which meal she just ate or was getting ready to eat. We don't know exactly why the time change did this, but we assume it is because she was finally becoming a bit accustomed to the routine, and then it changed.

The first part of this week was apparently OK. Mee Maw called my mother on Tuesday complaining about not being able to use the telephone. If she couldn't figure the phone out, then how did she manage to call? She called at least two others complaining of the same thing. My father wonders if she picked up the phone and tried to use it as the TV remote. That would make the phone begin to make strange noises, which she would cancel out by making a call. We will probably never know.

My mother was to spend part of this afternoon with her. We will see how it went and how she was doing.

UPDATE - 10:00 pm: Mom spent time with Mee Maw. She said she was "OK", but she continually complained about her back. This time, however, her pain is on the right side instead of the left. "I didn't sleep a wink all night!" she exclaimed. Maybe the moving of the pain to a different area is a sign of some kind of improvement.

Maybe something else will improve as well. One of the gentlemen who dines near her at each meal has given her the nickname "Ms. Grumpy", apparently because of her negative attitude towards most everything. Mee Maw probably doesn't know that yet. She may not care if she DID know. If you're 98 years old, you've earned the right to be grumpy if you want to be!