And so that was Christmas, over for another year, time to start shopping for next Christmas LOL.
With all the bushfires in our area lately, Mum's Nursing Home made the decision to agree to evacuate when the RFS advised it. There was no immediate threat, but since the home is surrounded by bush with one road out, it was understandable to be cautious. What I didn't know at the time, was where Mum would be evacuated to, or that it wasn't the Manager, who knows the area, who made the decision. I received a text to say they were being evacuated that night, then waited and waited for the call to advise where she was. The call came in at 11.30 pm, I was asleep. The voice on the other end of the phone, told me Mum was in Hunters Hill, and all I could think was, fucking hell, that's so far away, what about Christmas.
Considering she has been thinking it's almost Christmas all year, I did not want her missing out. Luckily, they came back very quickly, she was only there 2 nights. All things considered it was just as well, as they only packed 2 days worth of clothes for her, and she didn't have her makeup. We were all relieved she was back, and we'd be able to see her for Christmas.
I went and picked her up, to take her to my daughters, she was a bit confused, as always, but had a really good time. She did try to claim presents that weren't hers, but hey, if they were good, why not try lol. Our grandson Rossco, loves his Nana Fathers, and sat up next to her on the couch, talking and talking. Despite knowing that she wouldn't of taken in anything he said, he does talk a mile a minute, it was a precious moment. He actually went through a bad time, thinking she had died, and he was terribly upset, so I've had to send pictures to him, via his Mum, just to prove she was still alive lol.
When she started to look like she'd had enough, I took her back up to the home. She seemed tired, but happy. She talked a lot about how everyone had gone away for the holidays, but she does that all the time, and it's not the holidays all the time lol.
Next day, the Nursing Home called me. Mum was really upset and wanting to talk to me. She was so confused, she was crying and saying she didn't know what was happening or where she was, and that she wanted to come home. I had to talk her down, explain to her over and over, that this was where she lived now, and that she just had to walk up to someone and start talking to them to make friends. She seemed okay by the end of the call.
Today, Nursing Home called again, she was anxious, crying, angry, confused, you name it she was it. They had to wake her for breakfast, and she told them she had been up earlier, but was told to go back to bed, as it was too early for breakfast. They tried to tell her that hadn't happened, but she said, and the nurse said the way she said it, was entirely logical, "Then why am I in bed?" She was also worried about her Mum and Dad, and what they'd be thinking if she didn't come home. They have both been dead for quite a few years now, but she did the regression and thought she still lived at home. We made the decision to call her doctor and see if there was anything they could give her to calm her down.
Later today, they called again, she'd had a small dose of valium, and was back to normal, chatting, laughing and very relaxed. She'd played some board games, and seemed to be having fun. I didn't care about any of that, knowing that she wasn't crying anymore was good enough for me.
It just goes to show the fragility of those who suffer from Alzheimers, one simply change or disruption to her routine, and she is lost. While she remembers how to get around the home, to her, it's as if she has just gone in. It reminds me of her Dad, he broke his ankle and when he was back on his feet, Nana had to teach him the things that he hadn't done while he was laid up. We take it for granted, we get up in the morning, we go to the crapper, we get dressed, we have coffee, breakfast, go to work, etc etc. Every day we have our routine, a small adjustment to that routine, crap run out of milk, doesn't change our day, except that we have to pick up some milk. For those who have Alzheimers, it changes their life, they are thrown into turmoil, and have no idea what is going on.
The chair they always sit in, in the lounge, is not there, this is not the table they eat dinner at, this is not my room, everything is too much for them. The more they try and make sense of it, the more anxious they get, the more they regress. And that regression, leads to tears, it leads to pain and suffering. I imagine it would be like waking up from a coma after 25 years, everything has changed, but you don't know how or why, you have to learn to walk again, how to feed yourself, etc. But while if you wake up from a coma, you will have a life again, those with Alzheimers, won't. They will continue on in this world of confusion, the scary world that the rest of us take for granted.
One day, she's an 83 year old great grandmother living in a Nursing Home, forgetful but living her life as best she can. The next she's an 18 year old, crying for her long dead parents, and the home she remembers as being her only home. She's gone from being a smart strong woman, who drove out with sandwiches and water to feed her husband and his fellow brigade members as they battled bushfires. From a woman who with neighbours, beat out a fire on the block next door with wet sacks, to a shadow of what she once was.
I hope that she comes back from this, I know as time goes on she will get worse anyway, but I want her to get back to her forgetful self. The person, who forgets every damn thing you tell her, but who is so happy to see you and share a joke with you. I just want to keep that woman for a while longer, thanks.
Catch yas
Cathy
Went down to do my main shopping today. I get paid once a fortnight and after all the bills I get as much as I can to last the 2 weeks. A story I'm sure many of you know. I'm a widow, so it's just my salary, he didn't die leaving me a huge life insurance policy or super, it was just debt that I had to clear up by selling the house and car.
I raised my 3 kids on a supporting parents pension, we ate a lot of crap, and I couldn't buy the kids everything I would of loved to give them. But we were together and had a roof over our heads.
I've always had sympathy for people doing it tough, aged pensioners trying to eke out a life on the small amount they get from the government, single parents like myself trying to keep their heads above water. Even working parents, sure you get a salary, but it doesn't stop the bills from coming in. I look at people and think, I don't know you, I don't know if you struggle, or if you have a horrible life. You are just the same as me, taking it one day at a time.
Today though, I got angry. I did my shopping, ducked into buy something else with my trolley behind me, but out of the line of sight of the shop owner. Someone walked up and just walked off with my trolley. Took everything I had just paid for as if it was nothing. Good news is that I got it all back. But the fact that someone could do that, without any problem at all, has me thinking, fuck everyone. Fuck you and your fucking sob story, I don't care. You've had it tough, tough shit, everyone has a fucking story, yours is just one of many.
I don't like thinking like that. I like to feel that I have empathy for others and their situations. But right now, all I can think of, is sure you abandoned the trolley so you didn't get caught, but how fucking dare you take it in the first place. No matter how bad my financial situation got, I never resorted to stealing. How could I? I don't know if the person is struggling like me, they could be living in a car for all I know. The same holds true to the person who felt they had the right to steal from me.
Sure my life is better than some, do I own my own home, nope I rent, do I have a job, yep it pays the bills, do I struggle to keep my head above water, damn straight I fucking do. Do I spend all my money on alcohol or drugs, nope, can't afford that shit. But none of that gives anyone the right to take from me. Big deal I have a trolley with food in it, and you don't, I sympathise but get your hands off my shit. There are so many organisations out there that will help people, nowadays. Not so many when I was raising my kids. If that sounds tough, then too fucking bad. This arsehole who thought they had the right to steal from a stranger has hardened me up.
At least they have hardened me up today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, not me that's for sure. Even when I had nothing, I felt lucky that I had family around me. I had support from others. I got myself a job, I continue to do my job, even though I'd love to retire lol. I don't owe anyone with less than me anything. And right now if someone came around collecting for charity, I'd shut the door on them.
I don't want to be someone who doesn't feel for others, or help when I can. But I just can't shake this feeling that there is someone out there, who has just done the same thing to someone who is worse off than me. Because of that, I can't feel any sympathy for the attempted thief. I have no doubt that I am not the first they've stolen from or tried to steal from, and I have no doubt that I'll be the last. Next time I go shopping, I will be on edge, I'll be watching everyone, my hand will not leave my trolley, I won't feel secure until I'm back home. And that is what fuckers like this do to us, they leave us feeling insecure, wary of strangers, and unsafe. Now in some ways that can be a good thing, but in others, that's what is wrong with this damn world. It's why so many think that carrying a gun with them at all times is okay.
I feel sad for our world, I'm not going to say the old, 'It didn't happen in my day' bullshit, cause it did. People like this are what is making us feel that everyone is out to get us, and I don't like it. I don't normally feel this way, I'm always pretty damn casual. Sure I lock my doors and shit, but I'm not doing it because I'm paranoid, I do it cause it's smart. Now, I worry that I'll be doing it, because there is someone waiting to get me, some fucker just waiting for me to turn my back, before they stab me in it.
Hopefully this feeling will pass, I hate it, and when I hate something I try to push it away, to move it back into that locked cage in my brain. It's just getting harder and harder to do.
Catch yas
Cathy
As many of you know, my beautiful cat, Maddie, died this last week. I'm adjusting to turning on the tap and not hearing her bell ringing as she scrambles to get to the running water as if her life depended on it lol. Going to the toilet with only one cat, instead of 2, and not listening to her growl at Ares as he tries to usurp her place on my lap.
I decided that I'd tell Mum today. Telling someone with Alzheimer's something, is like putting it in a sieve and shaking it, to see what will stick, or what will fall through the holes. I wanted to tell her because this is the sort of thing I'd tell Mum normally, and despite her not loving cats, I figured it might actually stick, as it related to me.
Nope, it didn't. At first she laughed, then she realised from the look on my face that I'd actually told her something serious, so she quickly counted with a 'Oh dear'. I was no doubt expecting to much, but I persevered with the story.
"Dale called me while I was at Caryn's, to let me know. His mate had called him and told him."
"Oh, that's sad. What are the Christmas plans? Lots of people have been moving in and out lately, going home to spend time with their family."
"It's September Mum, can you please take a minute to focus on what I'm telling you."
"Yes, it's September, I heard you, but lots of people are going home to spend Christmas with their families."
"Mum, they aren't, it's September, nowhere near Christmas."
"Oh, well I like to plan ahead."
She's been talking about Christmas since January, so yep she's planning ahead alright.
"You can have pets here, not that I want one, but people have them."
"No, they don't Mum. Some dogs come in as respite animals, but that's it."
"Yes, that's what I meant. Are we going to yours for Christmas?"
I pressed on, and finally managed to get her attention away from fucking Christmas. We talked about her old cat Shan, and how old he was when he died, and I told her about Maddie. I know that she has already forgotten, will have forgotten before we even got to the damn car, but I feel better that I let her know. I want her to be told the shit that is happening. I want to be able to tell her how I'm feeling, and I know what I say is slipping through that damn sieve, but it helps me to tell her. It normalises everything, as much as it can be normalised lol.
Apart from the Christmas focus, she is finding it amazing that their is a resident called Matilda. Matilda has been there since before Mum, but it's like she's just discovered her, it's not the person, it's the name.
"That's a great Australian name, Matilda."
"Yes Mum, it's a great name."
"I wonder what she's doing for Christmas."
At that point I wanted to throw myself off the roof, but we were on the ground and throwing myself off a chair, isn't as effective lol.
Catch yas
Cathy
Same old, same old. Another Sunday morning visiting, another Sunday delivering stuff that will be forgotten within an hour, another Sunday spent doing the same thing, listening to the same stories. This is my life. Constantly on repeat, a never ending loop of the same laughter, and the same tears.
Mum, seemingly has no sense of privacy for herself anymore. I don't mean she's walking around half naked, or god forbid without her make up on, but door to her room wide open, bathroom door wide open, anyone and everyone can walk past her room and they can see her clearly. She used to be constantly covering up, shutting doors, and shouting "Don't come in I'm getting dressed". I don't know if this is part of the brain deteriorating but I presume so. She has no problem discussing her bodily functions with anyone who listens, including me lol. I don't want to hear about it, and change the subject all the time. There's only so much a child wants to hear about their parent lol.
I couldn't see her last Sunday, the home was in shut down due to a gastro out break, didn't want that in my house, so I dropped her supplies off with one of the staff to deliver to her. She told me that she'd missed me, and that gave me hope. But it seems she thinks I haven't been to visit her for 3 months, so the hope was dashed lol.
She's back on the old worried about my younger brother, and how she's worried about the fact he has nowhere to live. It doesn't matter how many times I assure her, he is living in a unit in Penrith, she doesn't seem to take it in. She's depressed about it, so again, I change the subject. Today I just sat with her and let her talk, same stories heard before, same complaints heard before. But, when she is depressed it's the only thing to do, so I nod, smile, laugh, and as soon as the subject creeps back to him again, I throw her off with a story about the kids, or grand kids.
It's not easy knowing she is depressed, and has forgotten all that I've told her, and I have no doubt that next weekend it will be different, and she'll be happy again. Or at least that's the hope. One of the things she does is obsess over something, like my older brother being in a cult, never happened, but she was convinced it did. Obsessed over that one for months lol. Now she's obsessing over my younger brother, and that too shall pass.
I hadn't had much sleep last night, so decided to have a nap after lunch, about an hour in the phone rings, and it's the nursing home with a call from her.
"Oh Cathy, it was lovely to see you and Andrew today"
"Mum, it was just me."
"No, Andrew was with you, I hope he understands he can't live here."
"Mum, no sorry, he wasn't with me, I know you think he was, but he wasn't, we did talk about him though."
"Oh, are you sure?"
"Yes Mum, I wouldn't lie to you. I know you're worried about him, but he's fine."
:"Oh, good, I just get so muddled."
"I know Mum, it's okay, we all get muddled."
"Thanks, sorry for disturbing you, bye."
And before I have a chance to say more she's gone. Hopefully, even though it was a short convo, she's happy knowing he is okay. I guess it just goes to show, that it doesn't matter how bad she gets, she is still a mother who is worried about her children. It can be hard, was telling her about my chilblains, and she takes over the convo and starts talking about her having them once, and Nana having them. But, whatever, she's talking, she's in her world, and when she's talking she's not sad.
One thing she has been doing since she got to the home, is buying stuffed toys. I swear I have about 30 that she has bought for the grand kids, shoved into the spare room. If the kids want them they can have them, but most of them will be donated to St Vinnies lol. Today she also had some Mr Men books, and some Paddington Bear books, can't keep that woman away from books lol.
So I bring them home, will re home them either with the grand kids or St Vinnies, and she's happy thinking she's giving her grand kids presents that she bought. Same old, same old. We did have a good laugh today, I was telling her about anti vax groups on the internet, and one woman had been bragging about her unvaccinated grandmother and mother living to be 70, she laughed and said that well your vaccinated grandmother was 101 and I'm in my 80's, yes she couldn't remember, but knew she was more than 70 lol, but she had a good laugh about it. She doesn't understand the internet, struggled with it, even when she was okay, but she loves the stories I tell her about stuff I've read on line.
Well folks, next Sunday will be a new day, who knows what adventures await me, how many stuff toys, how many books, lol.
Catch yas.
Cathy
Anyone with a relative who has Alzheimers will understand the hope, as do those who work with them. Hope is what keeps us going, it's the only thing that really does. Hope that today is the day you will visit and you will have a perfectly normal conversation with the person you remember. The person they used to be. It's what makes us get up in the morning, get dressed and jump in the car. It carries us through picking up any shopping they may need or buying them a treat, we know they'll love. It follows us as we drive to the Nursing Home, it's with us as we park the car and gather all the bags we have with us. Hope walks beside us as we walk inside for our visit.
It doesn't take long before that hope starts to fade. Sure some days are better than others, those days, hope hangs around for a while longer. You listen to them talk to you, telling you stories you've heard before. You tease them about the chocolate cake they are eating. You engage them in what has happened during the week with you. They laugh and reciprocate by telling you that same story again. You smile and laugh with them, but inside hope is slowly fading.
You look through a photo album together, and despite the photos being labelled, most of the people in them are becoming unfamiliar. The look on their face, of befuddlement, who are all these people, should I know them? Hope, is slowly disappearing.
You take a walk around the grounds, and listen as she chatters happily about the friends she has made, and spreads some gossip. It's the same stories you've listened to before, but you don't let on, because you know that this is what makes her happy. She is happy to show you all the amenities, as if you haven't seen them before, she tells you about all the fun activities that you already know about. She proudly boasts about winning a game, she can't remember what the game was, but she's very proud she won, you share in her happiness.
As the visit winds down, you feel the headache and frustration emerging, not from her, she is still happy, but from you. You don't want her to know how you feel, so you switch off and hold it all back, which causes the headache to get stronger and the frustration taking over. She walks you to the car, asking how everyone is, confirming where they all live, and that she would love to see them. You know that once she is back inside, she will have forgotten that you visited, and you wonder why you do visit.
Convo, at the car.
Mum: Could you take me shopping one day to that place we went before with a big shopping centre?
Me: Katoomba?
Mum: No, the town before Katoomba starts with an A
Me: Leura is the town before Katoomba, Mum.
Mum: No it had a big shopping centre, but wasn't Katoomba and starts with an A
Me: Sure Mum, when the weather is nicer.
Mum: That would be lovely.
You know there is nowhere that starts with an A, last time you took her shopping it was to Katoomba, but there is no point in trying to change her mind, so you don't, and she is happy.
As you drive off, you see her waving, and your tears begin to flow. You have to stop up the road to cry a little before you can drive back home. Hope has been completely crushed. You drive home, and barely notice where you are going, it's automatic. You will start this journey next week, with hope full and shiny, maybe one day you'll leave without it being crushed.
Catch yas
Cathy
I admit it, I'm a social media junkie, I don't want to go to rehab, I don't need a 12 step program, I'm hooked and that's all there is to it. I don't feel it is a bad thing, I don't sit here 24/7 playing with peoples lives or sharing lies. But what I do love is reading the idiocy some people post. The actual total bullshit that they seriously believe, and take as Gospel.
I could make up a really good lie about a child who was vaccinated and became autistic, or died. I could make up a really good lie about a message I received from God or a loved one from the other side. I could spread a story that I knew for a fact was a complete lie, without a problem at all. But I don't.
Many others are like me, we read, we research, we don't take what we read online as the truth without proof. And it can't be someone saying it's the truth, we have to check it for ourselves, we have to research and believe our research. Despite there being so many like me, there are the others that don't, the ones who post anything they see, filling social media with lies.
I've been on anti vaxx sites, did you know it's good to drink your own urine, aged is better, or that if you've had measles as a child, you are protected from cancer for life. Then there's all the 2 month old babies who have been vaccinated and died that same day, not sure I know any baby that gets all their vaccinations that young. Oh, and remember that mole you've found, or that cancerous lump, don't worry, all you need to do is use black salve on it, and it will eat away the mole or lump and you will be fine. Or rub turpentine on it, it's not poison they just put that on the bottle because of a Big Pharma law. No need to go to hospital or a doctor. Another thing I've discovered is that you can be a doctor without going to medical school, all you have to do is announce you are a doctor of the natural way, and done, you'll have the anti vaxx crowd flocking to your door. At least until you kill one of them, then they might turn on you.
I've read out right slander against people who have the courage to stand up for what they believe. 18 year old gets vaccinated against his mothers wishes, good on him for not buying into her crap. She goes online and gets comforted by her friends, they blast him and spread lies to discredit him. He's an 18 yr old, he got vaccinated, as is his right, but suddenly he's a terrible son. What he is, is someone who made up his own mind, as an adult he is allowed to do that. Doesn't matter if his mother doesn't like it, it's his choice. The fact that he has done it now, shows me that he has been wanting to for years, but his mother wouldn't let him, and he had to obey.
SIDS never existed pre vaccination days, or so they say. No one was Autistic either. The reason so many were in iron lungs was due to the polio vaccine being poisoned deliberately, as many others still are. Big Pharma wants us all sick so they screw with the tests results. They try to tell us that it's child abuse, that having your child vaccinated is worse than rape. The list of what they try to claim are vaccine injuries is hilarious. They include blindness, psychosis, cancer, epilepsy, freckles, ADD, ADHD and of course the good old Autism. Apparently you can suffer from one of these vaccine injuries if your parents were vaccinated as well. You could be vaccine free, living off your old urine and black salve, but it won't matter if your parents were vaccinated, the poison is passed through the blood, so no matter what your doomed.
I've read the most ridiculous advice given, shit about having a coffee enema, but don't drink the coffee it's poisonous. You've got a fever, don't take anything, you need to do a detox. A fever of 110 you say, oh your 5 year old has a fever of 110, sponge them down, give them some urine to sip on, it will be fine. God built these diseases, who am I to try and ward against God's will. Another mother was asking if it was okay to send her 2 yr old un-vaccinated child to day care, after she was told there was a confirmed case of whooping cough. She had a baby at home, only the 2 yr old went to the daycare. And the advice she was given? Give her vitamin C, but don't keep her home, if she get whooping cough, you've already loaded her with vitamin C. I kid you not, that's what this woman was told.
If you don't want to vaccinate your children, don't. It's your choice, but if your un-vaccinated child gets sick with anything that is contagious, keep them home. Don't take them with you shopping or to visit someone elderly. Don't take them to welcome a new baby, don't put others at risk. And most of all, don't turn around and blame their illness on anyone but yourself. Yes, you have rights. But so do those who choose to vaccinate, so do those who are too young to be vaccinated, and so do those who can't be vaccinated for any reason.
Most of all, don't spread the bullshit. Don't tell someone that they will get cancer if they vaccinate, don't tell someone that drinking piss is good for them, I shudder at the thought of that one. If you have real and honest facts, then share them, by all means, but take off the aluminum hat and get out into the real world, do actually research. Don't take Betty-Sues word for it, just because she knows someone that knows someone that is related to Kevin Bacon's double, doesn't make her an expert on Kevin Bacon.
Catch yas
Cathy
I'm not often serious when writing my blog, it's a way for me to let off steam, usually at the expense of my poor Mum. But also a way to deal with the harsh reality of having an aging parent with Alzheimers. I'll sometimes have a rant, and bitch about something, but usually try and keep it light. Not this time, this time I'm fucking over it.
After the recent terrorist attack by an Australian fucker in New Zealand, I've been absolutely disgusted with the crap I've been reading on line. Instead of the outpourings of sympathy that I've expected from so many on Facebook, I'm seeing posts talking about pay back, and 'Oh well if it's good enough for them to do it....' What the actual fuck people!!! No wonder the world is such a fucked up place, when idiots are sharing posts or commenting on posts casting blame on the victims. The dead victims, the dead men, the dead women and the dead children. Not the actual person who is to blame, the dead, the victims still in hospital, the families who have lost a loved one, or more, those who's lives are changed forever, the community, the government, they are blaming everyone but the actual fucker himself. Giving him exactly what he wants.
Before anyone starts going on but what about the terrorist attack in Bali, what about 911, or the Philippines (just to name a few), sorry but what about them. They were horrendous acts of terror committed by people of no faith, people with no conscience, people who just don't fucking care. You can say but they were Muslims, but they weren't, not real Muslims that is. Just like the white domestic terrorists, don't represent all white people, the Muslim terrorists are not representing all Muslims. Any act of terror is despicable, it should not happen, doesn't matter who commits the act, it should not happen. But to turn around and start blaming the victims, is as bad as walking armed into a Mosque or Church and shooting. It's as bad as hijacking a plane and flying it into the World Trade Centre. It's as bad as going to a tourist spot and killing 35 people, and it's as bad as a bomb attack against holiday makers.
We constantly hear stories about someone who was beaten up or raped, and how horrible it is when they are blamed. How if you take your rapist to court you are subject to intense scrutiny and your life is ripped apart by the defence attorney. We tell people to report crimes, and yet we turn around and blame the prostitute who is claiming rape, because she's a hooker. We blame the men who go out and get drunk for being attacked, king hit by someone who doesn't even know them. Some man hits his wife or girlfriend, 'why doesn't she leave him, she could just walk out'. No wonder this world is fucked.
Here's the thing, take it or leave it, I don't care. As humans regardless of race or religion, we have to stop blaming the victims. We have to stop with the bullshit childish behaviour 'But he hurt me' or the 'They started it.'. We have to be adult humans, we have to stand up and say, just fucking stop. When someone sends you a video or shares it on social media, and it depicts violence, report and delete. When you read comments from someone that sounds threatening to others, report it, not just on line, call the cops. Take a fucking stand and say no more. No longer will I stand back and let victims be blamed. If you adhere to the bible, isn't there something about loving your neighbour, well guess what folks, we are all neighbours, our skin colour or religion doesn't make a difference. We all still wake up in the morning and go to work, we all still take kids to school, and we all still love our families.
We all know evil exists. Serial killers walk amongst us, KKK members are everywhere, religious extremists spread their hate and the sheep follow them. Back in the old days, pilgrims were driven out of their country, witches were burnt at the stake, jews were sent into gas chambers, native peoples the world over were slaughtered for their land, none of this was right, and we know that. If we can know that these atrocities were wrong why can we not see the truth now. Why must we continue to blame the victims?
My love goes across the sea to our sisters and brothers in New Zealand, regardless of your religion or skin colour. You have my love and sympathy.
Catch yas
Cathy
