When I was a little kid growing up, I had the World’s BEST Grandma, she taught me a lot of things.  One thing that she tried to teach me that NEVER stuck, was PATIENCE.

Oh, trust me I have the saying down pat “Patience is a virtue, virtue is a grace, and Grace is NOT the little girl next door”   While I am not being silly, because I have A LOT of Grace…(yea right, I am a clutz, straight up).  Right now I am learning the HARD way (is there any other way?)  PATIENCE.

You see, I want Momma to progress a lot faster than she is, some days it seem’s like we take 3 steps forward and have a really good day, only to come back and it seems we have taken 4 steps backwards.

I understand with Parkinson’s patients that things are complicated. (That’s an oxy-moron), but I am a little frustrated.  It seems that NOW,  Momma who is full of words to be spoken, has stopped speaking.  I learned this today from her Nurses and the Nursing Student, who worked last night and told me that Momma did not have a good night.

I thought it was because she was tired from therapy yesterday, because she had a really good day.  Today, not so good.  I could not get her to speak to me.  I tried to engage her in a conversation, but she either nodded her head at me or blinked.  While to some of you that might sound good, because she is still making contact, to me…well…she hasn’t spoken to anyone in a couple of days.  That disturbs me.  Momma talked to me yesterday, not much, but a little.

So, I’ll tell you what the mean old daughter did today.  I sang to her.  Yep, and this is what I sang:

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray, you’ll never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take your voice away.”

I got a reaction, not necessarily the one I wanted, but, I got one.  She cried.

Something has to be going on with Momma, that none of us understand.  I told her today, that we really were NOT torturing her, and that we WANTED her to come home, but right now she had to work and get better so we could bring her home.  I told her that if she was giving up then I would fight to get her back.  I got a “deer in the headlight look”. and then the sun came out because folks, Momma smiled.

Well….that got me to thinking…I think Momma is lonely and scared.  Momma has ALWAYS been “Anne” or “Annie“, and now all of a sudden everyone is calling her “Margaret”.  These people do not know her, (no offense to any caregiver or CNA or Nurse or anything).  But Momma has “suffered through” the main part of her Parkinson’s with the Farmer and I and the Nursing student on occasions.  Now, there are all kinds of people she doesn’t know, and are calling her Margaret, prodding, lifting her in a hoyer lift (THAT thing is scary, although she did kinda smile when I told her today that people pay good money for a ride like that), and she only sees me and the Farmer for about 4-6 hours a day.

I think I am starting to understand.  I am trying to put myself in her shoes, and I, myself, would be scared out of my mind.  I remember when the Farmer, Momma and I went through Momma having Breast Cancer (SHE’S A SURVIVOR). Momma retreated into her mind for a while.  But she came back. 

I think she’s hiding right now because she is flat-out, scared.  I see bits and pieces of her but they seem to be getting fewer and farther between.  So…I have a plan of action for Momma tomorrow.  She may not like me for a few minutes, but that’s ok.  Because I Love her, and I want her back.

So, my plan, get there early, spend some time with her, engage her in a conversation, remind her we love her, and not ease up on her butt for nothing.  We have therapy again tomorrow, and I’ll be there to throw the ball with her, and stand her butt up, and NOT let her forget, that I and the Farmer are a part of her day and WE want her home.  I will also gently remind her that if she works hard, and quits being non-social, then we can go home and be normal…”her normal”.  Because I think that’s what she really wants, her own bed, her own walker, and her cats to sit in her lap, steal food off her plate and calm her.

I know she misses the cats, because she held their pictures in her hand today and moaned.  I told her about the “girls” activities today, because I had gone over to the Farmer’s, (he was supposed to take me out to breakfast this morning, but DAMN…it was 10′ outside and I was freezing), so I cooked breakfast instead of going back out into the cold again, besides the girl’s haven’t had bacon in a week and they look famished (hehehe). 

I told her about “Goldie” sitting sideways in her chair with the look asking me “Where’s Momma?”.  (Goldie is Momma’s kitty)  I told her about Goldie laying on the arm of her chair and Spice-girl laying across the back of her chair.  Momma was listening, but tried not to appear interested, until I told her about feeding them bacon.  You see, if you have read my blogs you’ll know I befriended these cat‘s by feeding them bacon.  (Yes, I created BACON monsters).

It was a joke between me and Momma about what was for breakfast.  We had certain meals for certain days, and Momma always remembered what days we had bacon.  She used to tell me when we were getting ready (bathed and dressed) for breakfast, who would be the first cat in the kitchen and she was ALWAYS right.  Her girl, Goldie.

Momma is homesick, and scared.  tomorrow, the mean old daughter will try to work her magic and cross fingers, and lots of prayers, things will get better.


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