I woke up this morning to 7 missed calls and seven matching voicemails. That was down from 17 two days ago. The voicemails are all the same, "Hey, Doll, it's your mother. I need to ask you a few things. Call me." I can tell Mom is crying and can hear the fear in voice. It appears as if the calls started at 3am and stopped at 4am. She must have gone back to sleep. I didn't hear from her again until after breakfast. So I took a deep breath and dialed her number. I was relieved to find her voice on the other end in good spirits....it was going to be an "up" day.
Mom has been in an Assisted Living facility for 7 days. For 2 months before that she was living with Ben and I. She was shacked up in our small spare bedroom with her Jack Russell, Beatrix. Ben and I picked her up in Michigan City at her house in the beginning of February. She was having a terrible time by herself. Panic attacks, memory issues, unable to pay bills. She wasn't sleeping well at all and not eating much either. We got her to our house and set up the spare room with some of her pictures and paintings. I took 2 months off of work via FMLA to get through this with Mom. I knew it would be a long haul...I wasn't even sure what the end result was going to be. But I knew she needed me and I knew I needed to give her 100% of my time. It has been well worth it.
For the next two months we worked on her health. A sleeping schedule, eating well, found an AMAZING doctor (clinic that did a full geriatric evaluation). There were lots of ups and downs. Good days and bad days. Sometimes she didn't know who I was....other times she was doing extremely well and you would have no idea there was anything wrong.
I researched a ton of Assisted Living facilities. I was nervous about the move. Would she be able to get around by herself? How much care did she really need? I was doing so much for her.....could she do some of these things if I weren't here? Can she afford this? I finally found the perfect place. Small, felt good, and affordable. Most importantly, she could keep her pooch.
We went to Michigan City and filled a trailer with her furniture and other things and got her moved in at the end of March. As she adjusts to her new surroundings, I am adjusting too. Trying to get my life back, resting......figuring out how to be normal AND be a caregiver is complicated. I am a changed person. And I don't know this new person yet. Just because we have found a great place for Mom doesn't mean the struggle is over. Everyone kept saying, "It will be better once she is placed, you can get back to normal life." Not quite. I will never be the same...my "normal" will never be the same. Alzheimer's is now a part of my "normal." Of OUR normal.
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