Cockroach Cafe - newly refurbished for the summer

[MereDintofPandiculation]

Welcome into our newly refurbished cafe. We've got rid of the Bad Daughters' bench - it was getting too small - and refitted the main room as a Bad Daughters' room, with comfy sofas, coffee, chocolates and drinks of your choice. (There is a good daughters' room - go down that corridor there and you'll find it tucked behind the stairs. It's not yet been fully furnished - we haven't had a visit from a Good Daughter in I don't know how long).

Anyway, come in when you want to share good news, or to rant, or to ask a small question that doesn't warrant its own thread. Or just to hang out with others who understand what you're going through.

For newbies: why cockroach? Previous long term resident of "Elderly Parents" Yolo's DM attended a 'small animal event' in a nursing home, and was presented with a "small animal with a hard back" the name of which species she couldn't remember. Her ever helpful DB suggested cockroach, and it has become a toast on here. So cockroach mes amis/amies, and may you all live to fight another day.

I'm very fortunate on the energy front...I'm with British Gas and being in a terrace I only need to put my heating on for about an hour and the whole house stays warm for the evening/half a day.

Need to replace the loft hatch though (I take it out in summer so the heat rises keeps the house cool) and stick the winter duvets on.

Mum's place is at a minimum of 25 degrees...not great when my menopausal, permanently stressed self is paying a visit.

Having a lazy one today, as its my last week before I'm at Mum's beck and call, and have been invited into work tomorrow for a little send off and to collect my stuff.

Feeling the stress levels now. Mum has now fallen and gone to hospital twice in 48 hours. Nursing home likely to refuse to have her back but the hospital may insist. No idea what is going to happen or even what should happen.

Permanent the nursing home shouldn't refuse to have her back? She fell on their watch and so wasn't properly recognised as falls risk. When my DM fell and admitted to hospital they gave her oxygen pre and post operation. Those hours I spent with her, with the additional oxygen, were among the best in the previous years. For some reason she was almost lucid and we had periods of golden time. She could remember our names and asked how we were. Never happened since.

When my mum died ( November ) we drained down the system . I lived far enough away to not return for a few months to find the front of the white goods in there had begun to rust . Thankfully the house didn't smell damp or musty.

Not posted in a while but following all of your trials and tribulations. My DF is off his medication following his fall & hospital stay a year ago and doing much better. Still happy to have his cleaner twice a week which frees me up to take him out and about. On the other hand FIL is struggling more and slowly coming round to idea that it would be easier to be a bit closer to us but I don't know how many more late night/ early morning (it's never during the day is it?) summons to DH for varying levels of crises it will take to convince him.
DH & I consider ourselves quite expert on house clearance having done his gran, my aunt's 2 houses and downsized both DF. with his Grans his dad couldn't face it and told us what he wanted (1 piece of furniture and some paintings) I think we kept 1 thing & sold a lot on eBay. (Rest was split between numerous trips to the charity shop & the tip) We took the DC to Disneyland Paris with the money, we have lovely memories that we can credit to great-granny rather some outlandish ornaments, what my mum would call "a harbour for stoor". With my aunt I basically did a sweep, brought papers, photos etc home to do when I was ready then used house clearers. She had some beautiful things that never saw the light of day. It's changed my attitude to keeping things for best.

@PermanentTemporary I read back and saw your mum was at the care home on a trial basis. I don’t think the hospital can insist on discharging her without a sustainable plan. When we were going through this there was a complex needs discharge team at the hospital who worked with adult social services. It took a long time because a lot of homes refused to take DM (aka “we can’t meet her needs”). It’s hard work, but resist any suggestion that you’re the solution!

Exactly @toofaroutofmylife. And @permanenttemporary, resist all suggestions that she comes to you. If you are worried they are thinking of discharging without a proper plan, 'unsafe discharge' are the magic words.

Who has indicated the home would not have her back?

@PermanentTemporary hope you get it sorted soon...I can't imagine how they can refuse to have her back under the circumstances.

I just had a called from my mum which began "Minty? Where are you? I haven't spoken to anyone since yesterday I could have been laying here dead all day and no-one would know."

An acquaintance died suddenly last week and its obviously thrown her through a loop which I understand but the way she rattled off that monologue .

Anyway, she's going to message me every morning to let me know she's made it through the night.

She forgot that it was supposed to be that way round (rather than me calling her) before the end of the call so God knows how this is gonna go..

Thank you all mum has been admitted. Huge relief. Discharge Plan B starts tomorrow.

Well, I’ve just had a very positive visit to my dad. He was basically completely lucid. Started by asking me how the cattle were doing with the “no-fence” system that I’d told him about in my letter, then we spent the rest of the visit reminiscing about nerdy trips he took me on when I was a kid. He’s got his stammer back though.

That sounds so lovely Mere...I'm sure I don't need to tell you to treasure these moments.

I don't think I can remember the last really compos mentis convo I had with my Dad. I think it was just before he went into the home, when he demanded seconds of Angel Delight for pudding .

In other news from Casa Minty, my mum eventually remembered to message and let me know she was alive at 12.36 this afternoon.

Needless to say I'd forgotten the whole arrangement so that worked well .

I'm off to see my mother on Sunday. They say she isn't quite herself after her hospital trip and is not eating as well as normal. Usually she has a good appetite so we will see what the situation is.

I do find these visits tough. Even before the Alzheimer's took hold, ( I say took hold, but her decline is very gradual so far) she was never easy to chat to, never asking questions about me or my life, or volunteering topics to talk about - except of course, delivering a string of commands or instructions. ' There is something I want you to do for me....'

Of course this is now even worse so it can be a bit of an uphill struggle - especially as I don't particularly have any interesting news either, with no family of my own - although I doubt she would display any interest if I did, Alzheimer's or no! She is not interested in the wider family, nor they in her, as she has alienated everyone apart from me over the decades. She has never really grasped what I do for a living either, so any chat about that is met with blank looks.

I thought I'd take my iPad and show her some pictures of my recent walking holiday ( desperate times!)

Does anyone have any other ideas to fill my half hour slot? Maybe I could engage her with a simple jigsaw or something ?

Maybe do something that you like or need to do? Take a map to plan a walk or a holiday, or a notebook and make to do lists, or a bunch of photos and an album, or an album and make captions? Then at least you get something done.

Words Can you FaceTime any surviving friend or relative that would be willing to talk for 15 mins and she can listen in. I FT my brother. It’s the only time I speak to him.

@Mum5net

Words Can you FaceTime any surviving friend or relative that would be willing to talk for 15 mins and she can listen in. I FT my brother. It’s the only time I speak to him.

That’s brilliant!

It’s easy with my father, but who doesn’t stop talking. All I need to do is take my crochet to stave off boredom. But I also write to him once a week, about two pages on the computer. Nothing is too trivial to talk about, they’re putting a fence round the park, the cygnets on the lake haven’t left yet, DS is very busy at work, the cats don’t like the weather, the apple crop is good. The same could be applied to conversation.

Search youtube and the rest of the internet for things that could be of interest, photos of where she was brought up, places she liked going, anything about her interests. Take in a heap of old family photos and ask her to identify the people.

Fill in with chores - tidy her bed, brush her hair.

I'm reading these ideas with interest as I think I need to make an effort to do things with mum rather than being round there for emotional support while she whinges and moans and bollocks me for getting distracted by my phone, or we just sit watching repeats of The Chase.

Don't know how this would work for the other olds on this thread but I used this site earlier in the year and we did a virtual tour of the Eiffel Tower.

They have loads of options so you would probably be able to find something of interest, and it's free.

www.heygo.com/calendar

Thanks for all the ideas everyone.

I hate to be that person when you've all contributed ideas so thoughtfully. All sensible and am sure of use to other readers.

But just to vent, and to further set the scene :

The only person who would be remotely interested in talking to her on FaceTime would be her former cleaner. But she has lots on her plate herself at the moment.

She would loathe me brushing her hair, and I am not allowed in her room because of the Covid regulations. Mind you, I'm not the sort to bustle around straightening the duvet or tidying her drawers, so don't mind that really.

She likes cats, so I talk about mine and show pictures but that always ends with 'oh I will never get over Dinky dying.' Dinky died back in the 80s. I have every sympathy with pet bereavement, by the way, every sympathy, but what do you do? I find it hard to forgive her for her reaction when I told her my beautiful beloved dog had died, ( having carefully chosen the time when I felt most resilient as I knew the response wouldn't be ideal. ) Unfortunately however,tears started to stream down my face. She just looked coldly at me and said things had been difficult recently for her, too.

She won't look at family photos . Unless they are extremely flattering pictures of her on her own she is not remotely interested. I took her wedding album once but even that was hard going at times. Ditto the odd object I saved from the house clearance. Not interested.

The virtual tours may actually work though Minty. She used to love Paris, so that might be good.

I will report back on Sunday.

Pass the Teflon

Teflon
Teflon
Teflon

Here you go @Words...a whole stack of Teflon.

I feel for you as my mum is not dissimilar.

I've brought a jigsaw round for us to do tonight but she's moaned about it cluttering up the dining table (which we only eat at on high days and holidays) and left me to get on with it.

So sorry words it’s crap.
Passing you cauldrons of Teflon. All I can suggest is plan a reward for after and perhaps play mental bullshit bingo when she comes out with a predicted phrase? One extra cream cake per point?
And try not to let her take up too much of your headspace. Hard, I know.

Long before dementia kicked in my DM wanted to show me photo albums of her boyfriends prior to meeting my DF. I suggested it probably wasn't really my thing, so she binned them in a huff. She then binned her wedding album, and yet is someone that claims a monopoly on grief since my DF died.

Thanks for the Teflon, ladies. I have already applied several layers of undercoat!

monkey in a typically melodramatic gesture my mother gave her wedding dress to the rag and bone man. ( Showing my age here.) I don't know what precipitated that. I was a small child at the time.

On reflection, perhaps the wedding nostalgia I tried to foster was not the way to go! My parents remained together relatively happily in their latter years, and I thought it might provoke some - any - memories, but no.

In that case, may I suggest

Visiting less often unless you are certain your visits give her pleasure. Unless one of you is enjoying it, visit only as required to check she’s being looked after OK

Take something to do which leaves your mind sufficiently open for conversation and every so often fire a question “what did you have for breakfast” “what did you have for lunch?” “What are you going to have for tea”

Or ask the care home “mum seems to have lost interest in everything. What is she interested in with you?”

We are already at the 'as required' stage

I can guarantee it will go something like this:

W ( cheerily) Hello Mum! How lovely to see you! You're looking well.

M: Oh. Am I I? (Pause) I'm not feeling well. Not feeling well. At. All. No. NOT Well.

W: Oh dear. I'm sorry to hear that. I was told you were much better now! You look very well!

M: ( Disappointed ) Oh. ( then something occurs to her and she brightens) I haven't had my vaccine yet, you know! No vaccine !

W: You did Mum, but it was a while ago now. How's your friend Gladys?

M: (Rolls eyes, shrugs) Who? I can't remem... Oh, Gladys? Dead. She went and died. Dead. Only one in here I could speak to, that Gladys... Just my luck. I don't like it in here much. Didn't like her much either to be honest. She was an odd woman. Peculiar. But she was the only one I could talk to.

W: ( desperately trying to change the subject) Ahh, that's a shame. The food looks really good though. What did you have for dinner yesterday?

M: Can't remember.

W: Oh ok what about lunch just now? What did you have?

M: Can't remember.

At this point, in a very similar exchange in RL, I glance out of the window behind her and to my horror, notice an unmarked black van reversing up to the entrance.

^A couple of burly men in black overcoats disappear into the care home foyer, reappearing shortly, wheeling a body bag on a gurney. They load it reverently into the van and drive slowly away.
^
W: ( frantic by now) Ermm oh look Mum, here's a picture of my cat Maisie, remember? ^
^
I hand- her my IPad. She touches the screen and the picture instantly minimises.

M: Can't see anything. Useless, those machines are. Useless. (Hands back iPad) I've got something wrong with my eyes, you know. I need...

W: ...Well, anyway, guess what Maisie did? She brought a mouse in last night and hid it in my slipper!

M : ( momentary flicker of interest, then) : You know, I'll never get over Dinky dying, never. Never get over that. I was never the same after Dinky died. Never.

(W, beginning to feel a familiar sense of defeat at this point, falls silent.)

M: ( perking up) Anyway, Words, there's something I want you to do for me. I need some more socks. And knickers. And vests. And my watch needs a new battery. And I need some more cash to have my hair and nails done. ( glances down at hands, extends fingers) Look at that! Dreadful state my nails are in. Dreadful.

Then she looks very pointedly at the clock on the wall, the one with the helpfully large numerals. She clears her throat, shifts in her seat and drains her cup of tea. ^
^
In comes the care assistant, beaming. "Time's up! I bet you^^ two had a lovely chat, didn't you! "

Words' duty is done. For now.

She just looked coldly at me and said things had been difficult recently for her, too.

Oh god, the competitive victim hood 🤦‍♀️! That is MIL all over.

You don't need Teflon, you need to figure out what is really happening here. Maybe she gets a weird sort of pleasure in moaning on like this. Or if not pleasure exactly, it sounds like that might be what she considers normal, and she's not as miserable about it as you are, in which case you might find it easier to bear by not taking it to heart so much, and try to detach yourself emotionally.

If not then I agree with dint, there is no point in duty visits which make both of you distressed and unhappy, so cut down on them and damn what anyone else might think.

If someone doesn't want to be happy, you can't make them happy and you can only leave them to get on and be miserable. The trick is learning not to mind.