Jennifer Munson has been caregiving (i.e. running, rushing, crying, trying, wincing, worrying and worse) for a long, long time. I know you all can give her suggestions, but, also, the understanding she so badly needs: I came across this page this morning, and have been in tears ever since. I had no idea you all were out there. I have read my stories in your own. I have felt so alone… Over the last 15 years, I have watched my mother slowly decay. The beautiful woman who was my best friend, my most trusted sounding board and the greatest source of comfort I have ever known is gone. I am left with this thing that swears at me, tells me she hates me and never wants to see me again, bolts out of the house in anger only to get lost a few feet from her home. She has been so confused in recent weeks that she has actually thought I was her. She has literally tried to kill my father. She steals, makes attempts to hit my one year-old daughter for quite literally no reason, and if left unattended, combs the neighborhood for the family dog of 16 years that I had to put to sleep three months ago. I am terrified for what my future holds, not for my own sake, but for my daughter. Will I subject her to the things Mom has done to us? I try not to think about it or drink about it. We have had such horrible lows in the recent months. The promise of finally having her diagnosed (after FIFTEEN YEARS of bogus diagnosis) a few months back was crushed when the Mayo Clinic destroyed the entirety of her cerebral fluid sample before it could be tested for Lewy Body, Picks or FTLD. So here I am, as I have been for the last decade and a half, wondering what is wrong with her, if I will get it, and hating myself for daydreaming of the relief I hope to feel when this is all over. My father’s denial about the severity of the situation makes my mother despise him with a voracity I cannot describe. He yells at her for being confused or mean. He speaks to her like he would anyone else and gets frustrated and angry with her when she doesn’t understand. As her primary caretaker, I am emotionally shot. Her motor skills are now in steep decline. Just allowing her to walk around the house is harrowing. Getting her to bathe, or change urine soaked clothing can require nothing short of a miracle. I am so, so lost and heartbroken. This has been the most excruciating experience I could ever imagine. I am so eager for the end, and so pissed and disgusted at myself for feeling that way. I want to take care of her. I owe it to her. She was incredible once. I am so very glad I found all of you. No one seems to truly understand what this is about unless (God forbid) you experience it yourself.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Jul 2013 17:32:35 +0000
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