This first week has been pretty rocky. Mom has serious anxiety problems -- she's always been high strung -- and while my sister crashed with her for the first night, she was alone the second and third nights and refused to sleep at all; she ended up briefly in a state of sleep-deprivation psychosis until we could get her to take a Xanax (she has a prescription for use "as needed", boy was it). When it kicked in, she fell asleep almost immediately. Since then she seems to be improving in general -- I got a very cheery, almost chirpy phone call from her yesterday afternoon -- but I've also realized that she's done a very good job of hiding the degree of her dementia until now. Without her home of sixty-plus years and her aide and her daily routine to anchor her it's pretty obvious now -- it's a good thing we got her into the residence when we did; we might not have noticed how far gone she was until something tragic happened.
-- Bob
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Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
-- Bob
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Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.