Saw mom last night and she was in rough shape. Food stains on her clothes, nose running like a faucet, disoriented (more than usual), couldn't form words and kind of shaky. She's developed a cold it seems and this is how it always is. She gets wiped out, can't function and just loses herself. So, after much cajoling I got her toileted and dressed for bed. Mom tried to wash her hands but got confused when it came time to dry them. The towel bar is right where its been for the last 2-1/2 years but she stood there with wet hands trying to dig in her sleeping pants for a kleenex that wasn't there. I dried her hands gently with the towel and she thanked me. Next I prompted her to start brushing her teeth and she began the process easy enough. I went into her room to turn down the sheets and tidy up a bit and give her a little privacy. I feel like she doesn't need anyone in the bathroom breathing down her neck, hurrying her along. So I popped back in a couple minutes later and she was leaning way over the sink trying to drink from the faucet and getting water all over her face. I asked if she wanted a cup and she nodded so I got one, filled it with tap water and gave it to her. She thanked me again and five minutes later we were on our way to her bed. Another ten minutes and I had her tucked in, kissed her on the forehead and assured her that I would be sleeping in the next room and that I would wake her in the morning. I wouldn't let her sleep through breakfast. Mom smiled and wheezed and her nose ran and she said "Nighty night" in her tiny lilting voice just the same way she always has since I was a child.
I left the room, told the nurses that mom had a cold and was tucked in bed and then I carried on out into the world.
Dementia is a cruel disease. I imagine this great cosmic melon baller swooping into my mom's brain and taking another scoop away every so often. When I'm there to see it happen and to watch her forget another simple task I feel nothing but sorrow.
