Hugs, Kisses and the Pee Pee Pants

I woke up at 4AM wondering why I hadn't yet heard, "Can somebody please help me?! Can somebody please take me to the bathroom?". Like a nervous parent I went into Grandma's bedroom to check on her and she was sleeping just fine, so I went back to bed. 15 minutes later I got the call, but for a change it was , "Julie!" (that's my mom's name...so we're getting in the right ballpark). I switched her water pill from bedtime to morning hoping that she wouldn't wake me up four times throughout the night to go to the bathroom and it seems to have helped. It's either that or the fact that I am trying to keep her awake more throughout the day so that she is actually sleeps through the night. It's kind of a catch-22 because in order for me to get things done during the day it is better if she is sleeping, but in order for me to get a restful sleep it is better to keep her awake. Oh well, we're working it out.

So, at 4:15 I go in and take her to the bathroom and somehow she has gotten  herself out from under the covers and is seated down at the end of the bed. A few nights ago she had gotten herself into her wheelchair and halfway to the bathroom. I wonder what she would have done if she could have reached her walker before the wheelchair got a little stuck in the carpet. It's funny because she doesn't seem capable of these things when I am helping her. Anyhooo... last night I brought her the walker and as we were walking to the bathroom I am looking behind us and seeing a little pee dribble trail between the bed and us. It steadily increased as we got to the toilet. I couldn't believe the double layer of diapers had failed me!

So, as I'm stooping, trying to get her diapers off, crammed between the toilet, the walker and grandma in the tiny little nook at the end of the bathroom, tired and annoyed that I am going to have to clean the carpet and mop and sanitize the linoleum at 4:30AM, as urine is pooling around my feet, and she's shouting at me that the floor is all wet and I'm trying to tell her it's because she is pissing all over the place, but she can't hear me because her hearing aids are on the bedside table, what does she do next, she does what she always does when I am in the middle of helping her with anything—she starts hugging and kissing me. I started to shout back, "Grandma, this is no time for hugging and kissing—focus!" But I realized she had no idea she was peeing all over the floor and herself and me, and she couldn't hear me anyway, so I succumbed to her love and affection.

Once I got her all cleaned up and back into bed, and got the bathroom and myself all cleaned up and back into bed I was able to get a few hours more sleep. I was up for a while and it was getting to be late in the morning, so I decided to go wake her up so that I could get outside to start working in my new garden. So the first thing she had to do was go to the bathroom. As we were walking to the bathroom I noticed we were leaving behind another pee pee trail! Dammit! Double diapers fail again and she didn't have a water pill at night. The trail through the bathroom got worse. Pee was pouring out of the diaper. But this time the fault was mine. Somehow at 4:30 in the morning I had managed to put the diaper on inside out, so the plastic liner was on the inside repelling all the liquid. Ugh!

It was my turn to initiate the hugs and kisses, which she devoured of course, then re-clean the carpet, shower grandma and bleach the hell out of the linoleum. She finally got breakfast around 11:15 and she's now sitting on the deck watching the birds. I need to go fix her hair before the birds build a nest in at and then it is finally out to the garden.

It just cracks me up that no matter what she does and how I am trying to manage it, she is constantly grabbing for a hug and kiss. I can be bent over her giving her a full-on lecture about why I want her to stop blowing her nose and wiping her mouth on her clean shirt. And she'll say, "ok sweetie" and reach for the kiss. Oh grandma. xo

Week One Complete

It hasn't even been a month since I moved out of the old firehouse where I was living in the bay area. This whole thing happened so quickly—I am just catching my breath. On March 1, 2011 my grandma was given 28 days notice to vacate the assisted living facility where she was living. Apparently her dementia was getting the better of her and she got the boot when she punched someone and got a little extra rowdy. My friend's comment sums it up nicely; "Wow, your grandma is a badass." And yes, yes she is.

So with all of the nursing homes in the area being full, my family was at a loss as to what to do with her bad ass and for some bizarre reason, I immediately volunteered to come and do this. I didn't even have to think about it, I just knew I wanted to. Being commitment phobic to pretty much everything had put me in a perfect position to be able to easily walk away from my life there. I have no man, no kids, and a flexible, freelance photography career that can be done from anywhere. So, I packed my stuff into some shipping cubes, drove across the country and moved in to my grandmother's house with her. And now I have survived week one, fully committed. Whew.

We just had our first outing this evening after staying home all week. She can walk a few steps with a walker, but most of her movement is via wheelchair, and I have an SUV, so getting her down the front four steps and into and out of the car was something I was saving for the right day. I had her out in the yard with me today while I turned the garden soil with a shovel, and when I was done I figured since I already had her down the steps, it would be a good time to just get her in the car. It was not pretty, but we managed.

We went to Moe's Southwest Grill in Simpsonville because I knew they had an outside table that would make it easy. I parked in a distant corner of the parking lot so I could get her out of the car and into the wheelchair without having to share our clown show with everyone. I had all of her limbs twisted up like a pretzel by the time she landed in the chair, and she looked up at me and said, "Aren't we a couple of bachelors?". Haha.

My grandma can barely hear as it is, but one of her hearing aids broke yesterday and it has made it almost impossible to communicate with her ever since (we get that fixed tomorrow). Add that to the fact that her dementia and general old-age has her grasping for words and often just making up some crazy babble. Also, she doesn't know who I am. When I picked her up from the nursing home, I asked her if she knew who I was and she said Larry.  My mom said everyone with short hair is a guy in her world. The eyesight is pretty shot, too. In the middle of the night she yells out in the most politest loud shout, "Can somebody please come take me to the bathroom?!". And somehow I hear this across the house and make it to her side.

I heard her in the night two other times this week when she was not needing help with the bathroom. The first time was super cute. She was talking in her sleep and was saying in a cooing voice, "You are such a nice little boy. Do you go to school?..." But then last night she was shouting, "Julie! Liz! Somebody help! Get her! Get her!" I sprinted in there and flashed on the light. She was wild eyed, still shouting, eyes darting around the room. Apparently there was a chicken in there and she needed me to catch it and get it out. So, I did my best to play along, took her to the bathroom and put her back to bed and she didn't mention it again.

It's a huge change, but I have to say I am enjoying it. And she is, too. She doesn't recognize her house, but she loves it here. She sleeps most of the time and it's very quiet here, so it is great for her. That's about it for now. I'll check back in soon.