I am playing my once a month gig tonight so today I am semi-gainfully part-time employed.
Wahoo.
Only I am now trying to keep my roommate's mother from getting too freaky on anger worry and madness aka Alzheimer's. Ask her and she will say it is(the diagnosis) all a grand conspiracy to take away her oil wells and her '96 Pontiac. I am not ready to take her disease on unaided today so she gets her second 150mg quetiapine of the day. It usually slows her down a bit and quiets down the agitation. She non-verbally cues me she is getting worked up by slapping her hands together and again verbally with the Reaganesque talking sotto voce around the back of her hand, "Can you tell me how to get out of here?"
Yes, Sir! Yes, Sir! Three Bras Full
She gets dressed but it takes a little convincing she hasn't had her clothes stolen and she can wear something else today. She calls me back to the bedroom. She has a bra on inside out and can't fasten it. I help her and she says, "This is where I slept last night." "I have three new bras they should last me the rest of my life." I am not sure if she is telling me how long she expects to live or that she only needs one bra or something else.
I sit and wonder if the seroquel will take away the restlessness or I will have to take her for a drive, a shampoo and set or she will fall asleep. This is new to all of us even the shrink isn't sure what this will do to for an 86-year-old with agitated Alzheimer's. Boredom a dangerous state of mind with a hole burning in her pocket an itch to settle her affairs and to get going on her way home. She needs us to take care of her. Just a short time ago, she was ready to go into the hall to look for her things in her nightie. Only she struggled with the locks and never made it outside. She asked me how she looked after she got dressed. I said she looked "sporty" to which she remarked, "Yeah and I am 86 years old!"
Her daughters praise her and pamper her a lot and she needs the attention to feel good about herself. Having her way is what she knows and she was/is a tyrant to her family. I am just learning her M.O..
I have been promised she will be "placed" somewhere and we can get back on track but several setbacks have left me skeptical or at the least not holding my breath.
It is hard to have compassion on someone who is mean and nasty to you but if they are mentally ill, organic or not, there are chemical(MEDICAL) solutions, "lay down take a red, Grandma" I wish there was a pill for angst that wouldn't drop your dick in the dirt and rape your hepatic cells. I don't think it exists. Some AK-47 would do.(AK-47 a hybrid descendant of Matanuska madness)
"safe and restful sleep sleep sleep" soma sominex seroquel lexapram mota
What the World Needs Now
How can we take the edge off the world the "existential angst" that quivering fear that eats us alive? Budweiser? Sports? Tequila? Sex? nah have sex first then Jose
I remember I have a gig today, its not endless day watchman there will be treats served after the meeting. Surprise, Friday I get to take the old lady to the VA shrink whom she showers with unlimited contempt. "Don't piss off the shrink, Grandma." 400 mg is headed your way, the 'ol chemical straitjacket. She's really old school and the psych ward is where they put the really crazy ones and( a remark behind the hand) "I ain't crazy." "It's all a conspiracy," she reminds me. She isn't over her latest paranoid delusion quite yet. Conspiracy theories, great fodder for the blogmill. I thought this was going to amount to nothing. Maybe I am part of the conspiracy.Something tells me this is so.
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