Cure for a boil

Well, the vinegar didn't work, which is what the hospice nurse suggested.

So, I went on the Internet (thank goodness for google) and found various other possibilities.

One of which was to put castor oil on the boil. I just happened to have Castor oil in the cabinet (I can't remember why).

Low and behold it works!

It's drawing out the puss. It got really ugly.. I won't gross you out.
Anyway, after 2 days of applying Castor oil the boil has really decreased, and I think in another couple of days we will have it pretty much cleared of infection.

I will keep you posted.

Mom thinks I am her Mom

Tonight when I was dealing with her pimple/boil, she said a few things..

like...ouch, that hurts.

I asked her if it felt better when I put something hot on it.

She said, "sometimes".

As she was talking, and she doesn't much, I decided to ask her if she knew who I was

She said "Yes, you are my Mom".

I didn't correct her.

I hope her confusion is only temporary. But, I think it might not be.

That would mean it's really a decline in her awareness.

But honestly, I have become the Mom.

I can't even say this really upsets me.

It's just the way it is.

How to treat a large pimple/boil

I had noticed a bump on my Mom's neck, but I thought it was just a bulge from a blood vessel.

However, about 4 days ago I realized it was a pimple, or a boil.

I have never dealt with a boil before, I so don't really know how to tell the difference.

Long story short, it got ugly.

I lanced it, but it didn't really drain. So finally I called the Hospice Nurse on
Saturday.

She said to put warm packs on it, and hopefully it would pull out the infection

It did a little, but not totally.

So, today the nurse was here, and she said to put a small part of vinegar with water on a gauze pad, heated (I put it in the microwave for 15 seconds), and do that 2 times in the morning and 2 times in the afternoon.

Well, it helped some, but it still isn't cleared up.

So I keep putting hot gauze pads on it with anti-biotic cream, and I keep disinfecting everything.

I feel so bad.

I can't fix it.

I know it's really uncomfortable.

The other thing the nurse suggested was to give her ibuprofen.

It's just horrible.

I wish I could fix it, but so far I can't.

Ingrown toenails

My Mother has always had a problem with ingrown toenails.

It's a problem with the nails not growing straight. My sister and her children have this problem, and have had surgery to correct it. It's hereditary, but I don't have this problem (thank goodness).

My Mother never had surgery. She always just put cotton under the corner of her toenail.

A couple of months ago the hospice agency had someone come out to work on her left toenail. I saw the paperwork, it cost $60.00.

Even though it's not my money, I still wanted to keep this from being needed again.

The right foot had the same problem, so when the nurse was here on Monday I explained the problem. I told her what my Mom had always done, and she managed to get cotton under the corner of the toenail.

I had tried to do this, but was not successful. Furthermore, I prefer someone else does a procedure which will "hurt" a little. No reason for me to be the bad guy.

So, I hope it does the trick.

As I have said before, I pretty much just tell the nurse what to do.

Works for me!

No help from sister

ALERT

Just to be upfront, this posting is whining about my sister. I write this so if my friends want to read it they can, but at least they don't have to listen to me.

My sister holds the POA (Power of Attorney) for our Mother's finances and health.

She tried to switch the health POA over to me when she realized decisions would need to be made (and I was the one taking care of Mom), but was told by the attorney she couldn't switch one without switching both. Apparently, she didn't want to give up the control of the finances.

When my (our) Mother was in the nursing home after her stroke, she was absolutely miserable. She couldn't sleep. She would finally drift off to sleep around 3:00 AM, only to be rousted out of bed at 5:00 AM.

At one point, my sister was feeling so badly that she said to me (tearfully) "I think my family will move in with Mom and take care of her".

Well, a few weeks later, I couldn't take it either. I took Mom out of the nursing home, to care for her in her home.

I somehow, stupidly, thought that since my sister had expressed her intention to care for mom, that she would help ME take care of mom.

Ha.

It was as if once I made the commitment, the problem was solved, and she could continue with her life unchanged.

My mom did not sleep for the first month. Seriously, no more than a couple of hours at a stretch. Which meant, I did not sleep. By the end of a month I was so sleep deprived I feared I would have a heart attack or nervous breakdown.
Only when I BEGGED, and pleaded, did my sister agree to spend the night once a week so I could sleep.

Once I took Mom off the Plavix (which was causing the problem) and she started sleeping, my sister quit coming over.

My brothers would come over to stay with Mom, but not my sister.

When I took off for vacation last January, I told my sister she would have to find a way to take care of Mom. She looked at a nursing home close to her house, but said it was even worse than the one Mom had been in before. So, she took her to her house.

After a few days she was calling me, saying she thought she was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

Welcome to my world.

One would have thought she would have been sympathetic to my plight, after doing for 1 month what I have done for 2 years.

No. It was as if she did her time, and that was it.

Not only does she not come over to help, she doesn't even bother to come see mother. She attends a church only 10 minutes from here, but says she doesn't have time to stop by on the way home.

Finally, last week she called and said she would be in the area, and would stop by. That she realizes she should stop by and see mom when she is in town.

Still, no offer to give me any time off.

On the bright side, I am pretty sure she isn't taking money from my Mom's accounts.

It could always be worse.

Feeling trapped

My brother is to come today. He lives out of town and hasn't been here since Memorial Day.

I thought he was coming last night, but either he or I got it confused. Anyway, he is coming sometime in the next couple of hours.

I am not really sure why he didn't come earlier. I think he wanted to watch golf on TV. Even though we don't have cable, I am pretty sure he could have watched it here.
But, I suppose he wanted to watch it in home, so he could flip through all the sports channels. Selfish bastard. He could have come here and just at on the sofa so I could get out of the house. But, I didn't say anything. I try to just be happy that he comes at all, unlike my sister.

I find that I get very anxious when someone is expect to come, and they are late.

I find myself pacing. It's like I am a caged animal, waiting to be released. Now I really feel sorry for all the animals at the zoo. This is how they must feel.

It's an awful feeling, this feeling of being trapped. And honestly, it's not that there is anything in particular I want to do. I just want the freedom. I miss the freedom.

God, I am going to hate it when I am old, and trapped in a nursing home.

I really can understand the British couple who went to Switzerland to jointly commit "assisted suicide".

Well, I shouldn't be so whiny. The weather is nice, so I can go outside in the yard.

Think I will do just that.

Aspirin helps with edema (swelling)

My Mother had quite severe swelling (the official term is edema) from water accumulation.

This occurred in her left arm about 3-4 of months ago.

She had swelling in her left ankle after her stroke, and they prescribed a diuretic for it. So after the swelling got quite bad in her left arm, I gave her diuretics, which did cause the swelling to go down.

Diuretics cause you to pee more, but here is the official definition.

From MedicineNet

Diuretic: Anything that promotes the formation of urine by the kidney. (The word "diuretic" comes from a combination of the Greek "dia-", thoroughly + "ourein", to urinate = to urinate thoroughly).

However, because of her condition, neurocardiogenic syncope (a fainting disorder), she should drink a lot of water to keep her blood pressure up. So, giving her a diuretic of course works counter to this endeavor.

I am not sure why I decided to give her full strength aspirin to see if it would help. But anyway, I did. And, it did help.

At first I gave her 1 full strength aspirin a day, which kept the swelling down for about a month, and then it increased a little. So, I have upped the dosage to 2 full strength, and it's been around a month with no increase in edema.

I think aspirin might be a miracle drug.

I hate doing this.

There, I said it.

I hate doing this.

I did not plan to be my Mother's caretaker. I remember more than 2 years ago when I agreed to take care of her....take her out of the nursing home. My Mother so desperately wanted to go home. How could I say no?

I told myself it would be 6 months, then Mom would improve and be back to her old self.

Then I told myself it would only be 2 years.... surely I could manage this for 2 years.

Now I am into my 3rd year. It's more than I told myself I would do.

Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself, I just think of what others are going through.

Like my home health aide. A single mother with 4 children ages 4-11.

My life's not so bad!

Mom talks, but only on an "as needed" basis

My Mom has gotten lazy about talking. I can usually know what she wants without her talking, so she doesn't.

However, I have learned that if I say something incorrect, she will make the effort to correct me.

So, she does know what is going on.

The other day I was trying to remember the name of the woman she made a wedding dress for. My mother was an expert seamstress, making many wedding dresses, as well as lots of other clothes.

I thought the woman's name was Lila, but she corrected me, it was Leah.

Then last night, she made an awful face. I thought she was in pain. When I couldn't figure out what was wrong, she finally took a deep breath and said "my hand is sticky".

What a whiner!

Well, at least she wasn't in pain.

Nothing Much

My Mom is doing well.

She ate 2 pieces of the strawberry pie I made this week.

I am coming to terms with the fact she probably won't die soon.

I know that sounds strange.

But when your life evolves around taking care of someone, putting your life on hold to do so, it's not unreasonable.

I am now really thinking about taking off the month of January.

There is someone my mother knows who is in a group home. If I could get her in the same home for that month, it might work out.

Something to consider, in a few months.

Respite Care.

Very much needed.

Changes at the home health agency

I mentioned before the Social Worker from the Home Health Agency was a little strange.

Apparently others thought so too.

She has been replaced. The new Social Worker phoned yesterday to introduce herself. I will see her next week or so.

There has also been a change in the nursing staff. The new nurse came on Monday, but I wasn't here.

I read her nursing notes.

She kept referring to "the family" in reference to my brother Earl.

I just hope she realizes he is not the primary care giver.

The nurse and the social worker are not so important to me.

If the home health aide leaves, then there will be a problem.

I would consider changing agencies to follow the home health aide.
She is an angel.

Apple pie without the cheese....

...is like a kiss without the squeeze.


My Mother likes cheese on her apple pie.

I did not know this until I started taking care of her.

I don't recall her putting cheese on her pie, but then I was probably too busy stuffing my face to notice.

Apparently, she picked up this liking when she was in college. She did housework for a couple while going to school, and they enjoyed cheese on apple pie. She also learned that saying from them.

Despite all the things my Mother can't remember, she still can complete the phrase when I say....

apple pie without the cheese.....

she replies "is like a kiss without the squeeze".

And, she can still eat the apple pie and cheese.

Makes one appreciate the simple things in life.

Apple pie

Cheese

Being able to eat.

End stage dementia

End stage dementia.

That's the official designation for my Mom's condition, according to the hospice paperwork.

What caused her to get to this condition is something called neurocardiogenic syncope, which is a fainting disorder. Basically something in the Endocrine system quits working.
It's long and complicated, to be discussed in another posting.

Anyway, the home health agency changed forms, so now I get a copy every week of the notes from the nurse.

It's always interesting to see comments from someone else.

I find it difficult to accept that my Mother has become this old frail lady who dozes off and on as the nurse takes her vital signs. But, this is what the nurse writes in her notes.

However, it rang true the other day. As I was feeding apple pie to Mom, I asked her if Dad's favorite pie was cherry (I am certain it was).

Her reply was "I don't know".

Only a few months ago, I am certain she would have known.

End stage dementia.

I don't want to see the end. I guess one day she won't know who I am.

But somehow, I think she will still sense that I am someone who loves her and takes care of her, the same way a baby knows they are loved and cared for.

It's life in reverse.