Posts Tagged 'health'

Dr. Oz Talks With Susanne Eman And Her Goal To Be The Fattest Woman In The World

Since taking care of my mother I’ve become somewhat of a shut in. I do crossword puzzles, go on the computer, watch TV anything to take up time.

When I watch TV during the day, I watch the various the judge shows, movies on Lifetime or Hallmark channel. I don’t like anything scary (living with mom is enough) once in a while I’m drawn to Dr. Oz. his show always has something that scares the hell out of me, whether it’s the Truth Tube, the germs in my purse, signs of diseases, he never fails to deliver.

Well, near the end of September I needed something to shake me up so Dr. Oz it was. His guest was Susanne Eman.

Susanne Eman, if I remember correctly weighs over 700lbs. her goal is to become the fattest woman in the world and her target weight is 1800 lbs. She walked out onto the stage without any assistance, no walker or cane. She was nice looking, cheery and agile.

She stated she had no health issues, her sugar, blood pressure and cholesterol are all were within normal limits. She stated she walks at least three to four times a week and when she gets the chance, enjoys swimming.

Okay, I’m thinking this lady has got to be stuck on stupid. There’s no way I’m buying she’s in perfect health, I found myself yelling at Dr. Oz to push her big behind to the “The Truth Tube.”

She’s not married, has two kids, I’m thinking her food bill must be the same as for Home Town Buffet. In fact they said she could sit at a buffet for over six hours yikes! Where’s her income coming from.

Apparently there are sickos out there I’ll call them chubby chasers that pay to watch obese people eat over the internet. Apparently she has a growing group of followers, she said since she’s going to eat anyway she might as well get paid. Two of her fans, nice looking young to middle aged men were in the audience, they were of normal weight. I’m confused what does seeing a fat women eating doing for them?

According to Dr. Oz watching obese people eat is the second biggest fetish in the country behind pornography. Where in the hell have I been?

Susanne went on to say she models clothes for larger women. Okay being plus size I applaud retailers who use plus size women as models as this allows us to see how clothes look since, one size does not necessarily fit all. But come on, how many women out there buying clothes are 700lbs. It would be like putting a car cover for a Smart car on a Hummer, let’s get real.

Dr. Oz showed some of her modeling tapes she appeared to be wearing a nightgown; she sat on a couch and swings her legs under her body, she moved as if she was size six. However, once she stopped moving and posed, her legs and arms were still jiggling. For a brief moment I thought I was watching an advertisement for Jell-O.

Her deal is she wants to teach people not to judge a book by its cover. When you see a fat person out in the street don’t assume their lazy and not contributing to society. Well, I for one don’t think people judge the contents of a book by its cover; however I do feel people will not pick up the book if the cover is big.

I don’t think eating until you’re the largest woman in the world is contributing to society. There has been many large people who have contributed to society; Santa Claus, Pavarotti, Oprah, Winston Churchill and Alfred Hitchcock they all contributed in their own way, they didn’t have to eat their way into the Guinness book of World Records and they didn’t have to diet to fit in.

In the end, her doctor said she’s playing Russian roulette with her life, but that she showed no problems yet. However, Dr. Oz put her numbers into the Truth Tube and told her she was a ticking time bomb.

Well this program scared me for a couple of reasons, for this young girl who is eating herself to death, for her kids who will lose their mother and for all us big girls because we don’t know who’s watching us.

But, on the plus side I did learn how to make extra cash for Christmas. As soon as my brownies have cooled and my roast is done, I’m getting into my nightgown and putting on the web cam.

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Dementia And Dehydration, The Double D’s

For months it’s been one thing or another. I have so much to tell you but I have not had the energy to sit and write. But here it goes my entries will not be in order of their occurrence they will be more of a hit and miss of what I am thinking about at the time.

For the last five years I have been living my life constantly yelling. My mother tells everyone; “I’ve never liked to eat, my mother would sit next to me and yell to get me to eat.”

My mother lives constantly on the verge of malnutrition and dehydration. In the last four years she has gone by ambulance to the hospital four times, one time last year she was so dehydrated she almost didn’t make it. So I constantly yell at her to drink.

Last August I knew my mother either had a bladder infection or was becoming dehydrated she had a horrible body odor. Every time I would try to get her to drink it would end like this;

“Mom, you need to drink more.” “I’m not thirsty.” “I know you’re not thirsty, but you need to drink.” “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.” “Mom, your diapers have a strong ammonia smell.” “I don’t smell anything. You must be smelling your own dirty butt”

I took her to the doctor’s and sure enough she had a bladder infection. She also lost 7 pounds in the last for months. When they told us she had an infection I look at my mom and said,” I knew you were sick just from the odor” without skipping a beat my mom looked at the nurse and said;

“My daughter knew I was sick because she’s a witch.” “What did you say?” “You’re a witch.” “Oh witch, I thought you said something else.”

So now I’m getting to what I want to write about, the last six days.

Okay, Saturday October 15th and Sunday the 16th, mom’s diapers again had the odor of straight ammonia, she was refusing to drink more fluids. I’m thinking dehydration. When I would say something to her it would go back to the same song and dance. I made a decision to take her to the doctors on Monday or Tuesday if she was still refusing to drink.

Monday the 17th, mom got up around 9:30.

“Mom, take a bath before it gets too late.” “Why I’m not going anywhere.” “That’s not the point you’ve been in the same diaper all night and if it gets any later you’ll be getting lunch instead of breakfast.” “I’ll take a bath and eat when I’m ready just worry about your own fat butt.”

Now, she knows it bothers me when she talks about my being heavy. Heck I know I’m big but everyday for whatever reason she brings it up. She must truly have dementia because a sane person wouldn’t be making those kinds of comments to the person who makes their food.

By the time she’s ready for breakfast its lunch time so I make her a half of turkey sandwich with swiss cheese, a bowl of soup and a few pieces of cantaloupe and watermelon. She sits down and starts to complain that it was too much food. I let her know if she kept complaining I would give her the other half of the sandwich. I walked into the den to finish my crossword puzzle.

It was about two maybe three minutes and I heard my mother snoring. “Mom wake up, mom are you sleeping, wake up” Nothing so me and my fat butt get up, I touched her shoulder nothing then I notice she had thrown up and had passed out. She was breathing but making a sound between gurgling and snoring.

“911, is this a medical emergency?” “Yes my mother was eating and passed out, I need help.” “Is she breathing? How old is she? The address and number you’re calling from?”

Finally after all the questions were answered, I called my husband and kids everyone showed up the same time as the paramedics. My husband and son stayed to clean the mess and close up the house, Dana drove ahead to the hospital and I went in the ambulance with my mom.

First before I go any further let me tell you about the ambulance. Why are all emergency vehicles so high off the ground? This was my fourth time having to call for paramedics and an ambulance to my mom’s house, I now feel like I have a close enough relationship with the dispatcher that when they see my mom’s address pop up to send a truck with a bucket to help lift my big behind into the cab of the ambulance. It’s embarrassing I felt like a Weeble (you know the roly-poly characters).

We arrive at the hospital the paramedics had already cut open my mom’s favorite dress. The nurses take her torn dress and sweater all the way off and were going to hand them to me. Hell no! I wasn’t even going to touch the bag. The look on my face let them know it was trash time.

Dana came to sit with me, lab work, x-rays, a CT scan all showed how healthy my mom was, the diagnosis was dehydration. They plumped her up with fluids and we ignored her requests for a Babe Ruth bar. The hospital would have released her but her insurance Kaiser has a policy if a patients loses consciousness they stay overnight for observation.

When the ambulance came to transport my mom to Kaiser, Dana drove me home so I could pick up my car. Now I haven’t eaten anything all day. I down a banana and three cookies and then Paul drove me to the hospital.

When I walked into the room my mom was stuffing her face with Fig Newton’s, she feeling good and wanted to know who came with me to see her and who I called. I let her know everyone knew she was in the hospital and no one came because she wasn’t ill, she was there because she was to stubborn to drink water. I told her I’ve had it. I explained the paramedics, the ambulance, doctors and nurses had more seriously ill patients that they needed to tend to, also her taking space in the hospital is one less bed available for someone else more seriously ill. I was so upset and exhausted I left.

Late that night and early the next morning I received a call from the attending doctor at Kaiser, he wanted to let me know my mom was doing well and would be released around noon.

I got there at twelve thirty. When I walked into her room my mom immediately started asking me if anyone came with me to see her in the hospital. I said no because she wasn’t sick just too lazy to drink fluids. I started to get her ready to go when the nurse came in. She was letting me know my mom didn’t want to eat breakfast but she managed to get her to eat some cereal. Lunch was delivered and she needed to try and eat something. My mom flatly refused saying she would eat at home. Knowing that I would have to continue the battle at home I let my mom know if she didn’t eat she wouldn’t be going home. She began eating.

When I pulled the car up to the hospital patient loading zone, the young man who was helping my mom into the car said; “Have a wonderful day” my mom replied “I’m on the way out.” The young man didn’t know what to say, my mom made it seem like she was going home to die.

I stepped on the gas and looked at her and said;

“So where are we going? Dancing? Lunch? On a trip? Where?” “Aren’t we were going home?” “I thought we were until you told that young man you were on the way out. You’re not dying I know this because the doctors in two hospitals just examined you, the only thing wrong with you is your need for attention.”

When we got home;

“Mom, you need to take a shower you had thrown up and haven’t had a shower in two days.” “Don’t worry about me, worry about yourself.” “Mom take a shower.” “Shut up fat ass!”

Okay this time I picked up the phone, should I call the county morgue or my brother? I ended up calling my brother because I knew his number. I put the call on speaker and asked my mother to repeat what she called me and she did. Well, my brother let her know he wasn’t happy and was coming over.

Intervention (this entry is so long maybe it should be an Intermission).

Since I have tried in the past with the Scared Straight approach having only two bad cops wasn’t working. But now were doing Beyond Scared Straight, oh yeah everyone is on board.

The next day my brother came over, he had my back; even without a script he was remarkable. (Now remember in my last entry I had placed my mom in a really nice assisted living facility for a week, so I had to change it up).

I started to explain that I could not afford to put mom into the nice facility. The cost was $150.00 a day when I placed her in for a week of respite care. Placement for long term would be a little more as she needs assistance bathing, medications and walking to and from the dining room. Now keep in mind this conversation is in front of my mom. Without a dress rehearsal this is how it went down between my brother and me in front of my mom.

“I’m going to be honest with you I can’t ask my husband to do any more than what we’ve done its going to cost two thousand more a month to put mom into a home. Can you pay it?” “Two thousand no way, I’m retired.” “Well, if I can come up with half and I don’t think I can would you be able to pitch in one thousand?” “No, right now it would be tough.” “I know that’s how it is with everyone, I do know that there’s facilities that take only SSI and pensions that don’t have the extra frills but it’s doable.” “Sounds good.”

I told my mom I could no longer take care of her, I was done until I sold the house she was going to the cheaper home, the one where she would have to share a room with one to four other woman, the one where the meals would be simple, like bologna or ham sandwiches for lunch and casserole’s for dinner. Her eyes were bigger now, she understood.

My brother also confronted my mom with his disappointment with the way she talks to me. Surprise!

What a good day this was becoming. My aunt even showed up unexpectedly, without clueing her in about us taking a firm stance in Spanish she asked;

“Eva, how are you doing?” “Not good.” “No, Eva say you’re doing fine” “Fine.”

She even let my mom know she needed to do better so she could remain home. Yes today is a good day, I feel like the troops are with me.

Now on the fourth day, Kaiser sent a very nice young girl to evaluate my mother for Palliative Care. The only ailments my mother has is dementia and RA, since she was not in the final stages of life she did not qualify for assistance.

The only thing my mom understood is that this woman was from Kaiser, she asked me what she wanted. I explained she came to see if she could help, but since she didn’t have a medical condition and it was just that she’s too stubborn to eat and drink a facility might be the answer.

Well, that night no problems, this morning I woke her, gave her breakfast, she showered no problems. My brother just called, he remarked I sounded better, and I’m actually feeling better. Mom’s not sleeping she’s watching TV quietly in her room, when she heard the phone she came out to see who called; I said my brother and he asked if I found a home for you yet.

If I can keep it fresh in her mind, I do believe it will be a good day. Peace.

California Proposition 19, Legalization Of Marijuana

Let me start off my saying my husband and I don’t smoke, drink and have never done any type of drugs. But today I will be giving you my opinion of California Proposition 19, the Marijuana Legalization Initiative (2010) which would tax and regulate marijuana for adults over 21 years old.

Now this issue has been on the ballots before and has failed. Still you have some that will keep pushing until the results are what they want, legalization.

Now I’m sure marijuana has its benefits for people who are ill, and I for one say if it can ease ones pain then they should be prescribed the drug or drugs that can help. But for the ones who want it because they want to get high I say hold on we have enough problems already.

Now I’m not naïve, I have friends and relatives who smoke the stuff, with no problems I’m not going to say I’m fine with it, but at least they are responsible enough to use it in their home and not out in public.

I’m worried about the ones (and there will be plenty) who will use it anytime and anyplace, you know the ones that already have fewer brain cells then normal people.

My husband and I bought our first home when I was twenty-one, by the time I was thirty-four we were building our dream home. It was perfect until our neighbors sold their home to such an individual.

Our neighbor is an idiot. When his first child was an infant and would cry he would place him in the car on the driveway so his crying wouldn’t disturb him in the house. That stopped when the neighbors called the police. Then he would place him in an outside lanai until again the police would show up. He would take his child out for a ride by placing him on a flat wagon tied to a bike, once he would start off the kid would fly off like cracking the whip, His wife stopped that after seeing the neighbors coming out.

He has been outside wearing leotards and a tutu, a Samurai outfit including swords and cowboy attire just to name a few of his outfits.

He barely works, his wife assumed the responsibility earning a living and raising the kids who are now in middle school and high school.

How did this happen, my guess drugs? I came to this conclusion after a few years of not getting along with him due to his odd behavior, his dog running loose his attempt of keeping a rooster, geese etc.

Years ago Chris mentioned that the neighbor was growing marijuana in the backyard. So I called the police;

“Temple City Sheriffs station.”
“Hi, I’d like to report that my neighbor is growing marijuana.”
“Can you see it form the street?”
“No.”
“Then we can’t help you, our officers need to be able to see it from the street.”
“What?”
“We can’t go onto private property to check.”
“Well, send an officer anyway; I think there’s a burglar in my backyard.”

When they arrived to check out my yard, I glanced over to my neighbors and said;

“What’s that?”
“Looks like your neighbor has a few marijuana plants.”

It was only two plants, that were huge, taller and wider then I was, the sheriff asked to borrow our shovel and dug up the plants. I don’t know what the outcome of it was. He now has hedges so I can’t see over.

Now, while these all happened years ago, its people like him that I worry about. He doesn’t drive his wife’s car because he always involved in accidents. Could it be that he drives while under the influence? I don’t know. I just know his reaction time and ability to think always seems clouded.

So I will vote NO on proposition 19, knowing good and well people will still smoke marijuana whether or not it’s legal. An example; in California the drinking age is twenty-one how’s that working out? So now let’s start treating marijuana more like alcohol.

Like drinking after using marijuana, the user will feel intoxicated; have some loss of coordination, poor sense of balance and a slower reaction time. Now let’s add a two ton car.

Some of you will not agree with me, I don’t really care. I realize people will still use the stuff, heck if it would make my mom nicer I’d bake her a brownie. It’s just that in my opinion legalizing would open up a whole bunch of new problems.

So if you’re already using it responsibly fine I don’t want to hear about it. But if pot is legalized by the State of California and you’re an idiot my next call will be to the Feds because after all the state can’t regulate a Federal Offense.

Zeltiq, Or Freeze Your Fat Away

I was watching TV the other night when a commercial for the eleven o’clock news came on saying there’s a new noninvasive procedure to freeze fat away. I’m interested so I TiVo’d it.

The procedure is called Zeltiq, it’s been approved for a variety of dermatologic applications, and it’s pending approval for fat cell reduction using Cryolipolysis.

They place a gel pack against the skin then using what feels like a vacuum they press against your skin, apparently when they cool the fat to a certain temperature for a certain length of time many of the fat cells die. Apparently the procedure is a precisely controlled cooling that only targets fat cells and not skin and other tissue. So here it is three simple steps; suck, freeze and die.

Interesting, so I Googled it.

Yes it works; it is expensive and recommended for those that are somewhat normal in weight with little pockets of fat not the extremely obese that have saddle bags or a twelve pack.

What a waste all the new ways to lose weight geared towards people who are within normal or acceptable weight to begin with.

Anyone within normal weight, who would pay for this procedure, should have their brain frozen and sucked out. Doctors are getting rich helping people who only have a few pounds to lose. I say leave these doctors alone until they fine tune this procedure for the people who really need it, the obese.

Realistically I cannot afford this procedure without giving up some of my hobbies like gas, food and electricity, but it would be nice if it was an option.

Everything now is promoted to lose weight fast, the easy way, pounds melt away, then you read the fine print and its for those who are overweight by five to ten pounds, or weight loss equipment that has a weight limit, what the hell it’s supposed to be for people who don’t have a weight limit, because their obese!

So, I’m taking control of my situation today, as soon as I finish the last Popsicle I’m going to sit in the freezer for a controlled length of time.
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Big And Rich And I’m Not Talking About The Singing Group

I’M RICH, I’M RICH as soon as someone pays me what I’m worth.

I’ve taken care of my parents for at least twenty years. When my dad was alive it was a piece of cake but when he passed three years ago my life drastically changed. I retired at age fifty-three without an income until I reach fifty-nine, my husband retired six years ago at age fifty-three so were now living on his pension until I get my pension and our Social Security.

I knew from the get go my life as I knew it would change. I do not have the freedom to pick up and go until I secure a babysitter. I knew most of our combined income with my mother would go to depends, nutritional drinks and bed pads. I knew I would have to live in a house with the thermostat set at ninety degrees. I knew I could no longer brush my teeth in the dark to make sure I grabbed the toothpaste and not the Ben Gay. What I didn’t know was how difficult my mom was, or how much I would miss the freedom of the ability to get up and go with my husband. But after all she is my mom I have to do this.

Well, for the last eighteen months I’ve been traveling the one hundred and sixty miles twice a week to check on and visit my aunt. She also has a good neighbor that she pays to assist when I’m not available, but sometimes it’s not enough so a decision was made to hire a home health caregiver for four hours a day, three times a week.

Hello, I’m big and rich.

I called three agencies and we picked the mid priced one. For three times a week not including mileage it should run around $935.28 a month or $11,223.36 a year, yikes!

So what did I do I started calculating for seven days a week for four hours it would be $2,232.00 a month or $26,784.00 a year, double yikes.

Did I stop? Heck no.

Six hours a day for seven days was $3,637.20 a month or $43,643.40 a year. (I’ll refrain from using any more yikes.)

Eight hours a day for seven days was $4,364.64 or $52,375.68 a year.

So I jumped to twenty-four hours, seven days a week (which is a reduced flat rate.) If you’re standing, sit down before you read any further.

The price was from $5,425.00 to $6,200.00 a month or $100,380.00 to $109,680.00 per year. Ok just one big YIKES!

So when my mom sat down for soup I let her know she owes me $301,140.00 for the last three years. Her reply “the checks in the mail.”

How To Kill Yourself In Two Easy Steps

Sorry that I’ve been MIA but my knee went out and I went down for the count. Usually when this happens it takes about four days to be up again, but this time it’s different. It’s been a week and I still can’t walk, there’s no pain until I stand, it’s almost as if my brain subconsciously has a conversation with my knee;

“Where in the hell are you going?”
“I just need to get up.”
“Is it worth the pain I’ll be sending down to remind you something’s wrong.”
“No not really.”
“Do you really need to go to the bathroom or should you try to hold it a little longer?”
“I’ll hold it.”
“Is getting up to eat something worth it?”
“NO.”
(In fact I wasn’t eating because I couldn’t get to the kitchen).

I have a problem and I need a solution, finally the answer came to me, my dad’s walker and cane.

Now we’ve all seen the elderly using walkers, so it should be an easy solution. I figured I could use the walker to take some weight off my knee so I would experience less pain when walking.

Well there must be a secret class that the elderly take to learn how to use the walker without looking like a total spastic.

I could’ve killed myself. The walker has two wheels in front and legs in the back. My first mistake was trying to walk quietly (now I know why tennis balls are placed on the back legs) it sounded as if an RTD bus was making a fast stop in the dining room I was even leaving skid marks, so I decided instead of gliding like a gazelle I would pick the walker up place it one step ahead of me and walk into it. Well, since there’s warning sticker like on the visor in the car, I had to learn the hard way, put the legs down first not the wheels. Thank goodness the island in the kitchen stopped me and the walker before I became airborne.

Another mistake when you have to go, go. If you need to use the walker you’ll be walking much slower and if there’s a obstacle in the way (like the walker is wider than the bathroom door and your big ass and the walker have to go in sideways you just might and I repeat you just might not make it.).

So, instead of the walker I’ve decided to use the cane.

There is an art to using the cane you just can’t put it in your hand and miraculously know how to walk.

My first mistake was using the cane on the side of my injured leg. Second I was placing the cane out in front and walking towards it, both were wrong. Believe it or not I had to Google “How to use a cane.”

Here’s what I found; you have to hold the cane in the hand opposite the affected side so it can provide support to the affected leg. Advance the cane simultaneously with the affected leg. Lean your weight through the arm holding the cane as needed. Ok, for some reason I cannot hold the cane in my left hand and move it the same time that I move my right leg, I’m uncoordinated it’s just too hard.

So I kept Googling, and found out that 47,000 elderly are hurt in walker and cane mishaps every year. So in order to avoid being 47,001 I decided to take another route.

When I need to get around I hang onto the furniture, walls and anyone going in the same direction I want to go and its been working out fine, other than that I’ve been in bed.

Thanks to my son Chris bringing me some meds that will help with the pain and swelling I’m on the road to recovery and I’m doing much better, In fact I’m sitting in front of my computer going through fifty gazillion emails (thanks Roy) that are cheering me up.

So pray the meds keep working, it’s much better to be on the road to recovery than laying in the middle of the road praying for a fast ending.

Hello My Name Is Dementia

I pray everyone had a wonderful Christmas, and I’m wishing everyone a Happy New Year.

Believe it or not, this Christmas was one our best. Our families traditional Christmas Eve dinner with my husband’s brothers and their families was great, It lasted almost until midnight, my kids, niece and nephews were trying to get me to take an idiot test but my son was laughing so hard when he was doing it, I got the clue I would fail right away, besides I live with my mother what more of a test do I need.

Christmas Day was relaxing, breakfast at Dana’s while watching my granddaughter open gifts, a little nap then an early dinner with just our kids, my uncle and mother. Yes finally a few good days in December, now let me explain why I haven’t written in over a month.

Hello My Name Is Dementia

Since I started writing this blog, I’ve avoided saying my mom has dementia, I would dance around by saying she has a little or slight dementia well folks dementia is dementia and by placing a word in front of it doesn’t change what it is. It’s taken me how many years to finally admit it.

I was recently asked if I was embarrassed to admit my mom suffers from dementia. It has nothing to do with embarrassment; its knowing that one day my mom will no longer be mentally aware of family. So it’s been easier for me to skirt around it. Don’t get me wrong my mom is a far cry from the final stages of dementia; I would venture to say she’s in the mild and entering the moderate stage. I’ll call it “she’s driving me crazy stage.”

I was asked by the medical professionals when I started to notice my mom’s mental decline, I would automatically say about three years because that’s when I became her 24/7 caregiver and when I started to notice changes, big changes. I now realize the dementia started about five years ago I was just to close and the changes to gradual to notice.

Some of are conversations we had three years ago that weren’t so gradual that should have clued me in to the dementia;

“Wasn’t it nice of Kaiser Hospital to give me and your dad a room before he died to have sex?”
“WHAT?”
“Wasn’t it good of Kaiser to give me and your dad…?”
“Mom, stop I don’t want to hear it, Kaiser did no such thing.”
“Yes they did you weren’t there.”

It took a year to get her to stop telling that story.

“It took me a few trips around the cemetery in the back of Chuck’s and Em’s car to throw dads ashes out of the box.”
“Mom, we had dad’s ashes placed in an urn and buried at the gravesite.”
“No, I threw his ashes out of the car you buried the ashes that were stuck in the cracks of the box that I couldn’t get out.

She is still sticking to that story.

“My name growing up was Patricia.”
“Mom, your name is Evangelina, Eva, and Eve not Patricia.”
“No growing up at school they knew me as Patricia.”
“Mom, your parents were from Mexico, you were born in 1924, your brothers and sister had traditional names from Mexico, why would they name you Patricia?”
“Well, that’s what they called me.”
“What ever Pat.”

“When you were younger I used to model.”
“Mom, you were a stay at home mother, you never worked.”
“I used to model.”
“Mom, your 5’1’ models are tall, dad worked nights and you never drove how did you get to the modeling jobs?”
“I modeled in stores.”
“Mom, coming out of the dressing room and showing the salesgirls and other customers how you looked while dad sat in the car isn’t modeling its showing off.”

This past month there has been other changes that have added to my stress, accusatory behavior and aggressiveness.

My aunt and uncle came over for a visit and my mom informed them;

“Nancy picked me up out of bed and threw me to the ground.”
“Mom, what are you saying, I can’t pick you up one let alone throw you to the ground you know that’s not true.”
“Well you did.”
Later that day;

“Mom, why did you say I picked you up and threw you to the ground?”
“Now I remember you picked me up and we both fell to the ground.”
“Mom, if I fell to the ground I would still be there.”

Now our family and friends know I have a dropped bladder, four herniated discs and bad knees, so lifting anything more then twenty pounds forget it. But what if someone who doesn’t know the situation hears her? Hmm, a misdemeanor maybe 6 months in lock up, or as I would call it a vacation.

“Mom, we need to get haircuts today, with your doctors appointment on Monday and with company and the holidays coming today is the only day we have to get it done.”
“Get your own hair cut, leave mine alone, I don’t need you to tell me my hairs long, in fact get out..”
“Mom, were getting our hair done today.”

Well, you thing that would have been that, but no she turned around and picked up her walker (one of those light weight aluminum ones) and threw it at me hitting my foot.

“Ouch mom what are you thinking that hurt.”
“Good, now get out.”

She has a few new names for me, they all have to do with the size of my butt, finally I couldn’t stand it any longer and said “I could lose weight to make my butt smaller, but there’s nothing you can do to change the size of your mouth,” she hasn’t called me names in a week. So here it is, while she is in the beginning stages of dementia she’s in the late stage of pure meanness.

But a few days before Christmas, we gave my mom one of her Christmas presents a new TV with an easier remote (this will be another entry later) since then she’s been trying to control her mouth and behavior. I guess the trick is to give a present every few days to keep her happy.

We have been referred to a neurologist hopefully he’ll explain what stage of dementia she’s in, if there’s medication that will help, or if it’s just her venting frustration and anger.

I think the New Year is going to be like a Roller Coaster, so fasten your seats belts the ride is about to begin….


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