Friday, July 21, 2006

More Warning Signs

There were also signs of a shortened attention span - although I didn't see them as that, at the time. If we were out at social gatherings or meetings - usually to do with the goat business: I was Secretary of our Breed Club and on the Dairy Goat Breeders' Council - she was always quick to break up the party and remind me that we had better leave to go get on with the work at home. "Work" again. She was usually right, of course - a nice little bit of controlling, probably brought on by her losing the thread of conversations. Even more pronounced was the evening TV episode.

I am not a great one for watching TV, but on winter nights when our work was over and our meal cooked, I enjoyed an hour watching the news and current affairs programs at dinner time. It began to be that as soon as we had finished eating my mother would start to organize: "Well, we'd better get on and get the dishes washed." "Look" I would say,"I have been working all day - I am going to watch the news." A few minutes later the whole episode would be repeated. I stuck to my guns but it was a battle. I didn't realise that she had lost concentration on the screen. And, unbeknown to me - here was another clue: she wasn't realising that she was repeating herself. I just thought she was being a bit more organising and work-driven than usual.

One night I heard her in her bedroom next to mine trying to persuade one of the cats to join her on the bed. She must have gone on at that cat for about 20 minutes. "My Gosh," I thought,"she's persistent, allright." That was just the start.

I can't quite remember at what point I took over cooking the evening meals totally, and exactly what triggered it, but one evening I just knew I had to do it. It wasn't that she was leaving elements turned on or any of the "usual" things - more likely that she was having trouble knowing how to get the meal prepared. The dish washing - which I took over a little later - sticks more in my memory. With me doing the cooking she would wash and I would dry. One night I found she was not putting washing-up liquid in the water. I pointed this out and was told not to be so silly. So after a couple of these episodes I took over the washing up - and she did the drying for quite a while after that - even when she had some difficulty standing at the bench.
- - -
Technorati Tags:
, , , ,

2 comments:

DebP said...

Oh, Patricia, same here. Except that I still let my mother wash the dishes (because I'm usually too tired)--and I don't really want to know how she does that. (I guess you'll never come over to eat at MY house!!) I've ended up re-washing items at times, but it's amazing how fatigue can lower your standards. I DO get them ready for her very often, so I can fill the sink with hot, hot water and soap to give the cleaning process a "head start." But this is a good example of how a fairly innocuous daily task can become a flashpoint. Multiply it by "x" and you have the caregiver's life.

Deb Peterson

Gail Rae said...

My discovery of my mother's inability to cook any longer happened some years ago when she volunteered a Thanksgiving dinner for the entire family. I'd already taken over most of the cooking because my mother has never liked to cook, except for large family gatherings, and at that time she and I ate quite a bit differently. Her habit has always been to make the pies the day before. That particular day I found her at the table, pumpkin can in hand, studying the recipe as though it had been written in heiroglyphics, TAKING NOTES FROM THE CAN ON WHAT SHE NEEDED TO DO, then obsessing over the notes. Out of curiosity, I decided to check on all the other dinner ingredients. The turkey was still in the freezer (I ended up buying a fresh turkey and saving the frozen one for later). Many of the ingredients for the other dishes she had on her list had yet to be bought.
It wasn't hard to convince her to allow me to take over which suits her preference for supervision perfectly.
As I think back, I guess I ended up taking over all the chores in this manner: A slow but sure progression that kept my mother from turning housekeeping into disaster creation.