And so it begins
Guess what I got for Christmas?
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December 23, 2017
I picked her up at the airport. She smelled like straight up pot. I was so embarrassed. Here I was meeting this 83 year old, disheveled, far from neat and tidy, actually looking flat out sloppy and disgusting, lady at the airport who smelled like she just stepped out of a hotbox. But of course between the two of us I'm so sure every person we passed was sure that it was all me. After all sweet little old ladies don't smell like they just puffed a joint. I put the smelly pot smelling old lady (my mom), with her taped together oversized suitcase, and her "give you a contact" purse on a city bus. Lots of eyeballs followed us, but I refused to make eye contact with any. Yes, you are smelling what you think you're smelling. Okay? In my apartment, I didn't bother unpacking her suitcase. We just talked and chilled. It was kind of late and I was wiped out. Yes, I was happy to have her here but... Something in me already knew something was coming. Fast forward... December 25, 2017. At Church We stand in the pews, her purse falls over, a big fat joint rolls out her purse onto the pew. In plain sight of the people standing in the pew behind us. Again, I don't make eye contact. I push the joint back into her purse, and set her purse up so the joint stays in place inside her purse. It hits me. This joint rode in this purse on the plane. Damn, damn, damn... December 26, 2017. 2:30 AM I'm awakened. The little 83 year old was lacing up her long bra, her pants are on, her suitcase is on the floor partially packed, and her shoes are on. Get me a cab. I'm going home. What? Call me a cab. I'm going home. Home is nearly 700 miles west of my apartment. Huh? Wake him. Tell him to drive me home. I live alone. There is no "him" here. Who? Him. Wake him up. Tell him to drive me home. Okay I'm confused, sleepy, unable to follow this dialogue. No something ain't right, and my brain at 2:30 AM is not working fast enough to make any of this make sense. Okay, I'll call a cab. I tell her. I go to my room, dress, call 911 to request medics for a confused 83 year old. By the time the 5, yes 5, medics arrive, the crazy has subsided. They ask questions. The answers are about 80% correct. I'm asked if she has onset alzeheimers. Wow, that question thumped me against the chest. No. But... P.S. This scenario minus the medics would repeat two nights later. Oh boy... |
I Hate." |
I overdosed myself
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Dementia isn't the only thief. Her vision is going and so is her hearing.
At work one day, everyone around me spoke in a language I did not speak. It drained me to try to figure out what they were talking about. I could pick out a word now and then, but it was so far out of context that it served no purpose whatsoever. Eventually when someone would speak to me in my language it took me a while to switch gears so to speak. It was an odd feeling. My brain felt so drained after a while that it felt like it was completely shutting down. I couldn't help but wonder if her vision loss and hearing loss somehow contributed to her growing dementia. |
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My name is...
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My mother and I used to watch game shows
together in 1970.... I don't have dementia.
I can still live on my own in my own house.
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