My Mother has dementia. I know there are times when she is confused, not sure who we are or where she is, if this home or a nursing home. I thought I could always tell when those times were, but this week I realized I can't. She'd just gotten off the phone with one of my sisters, and my daughter and I were just kind of in her room, doing stuff. It was just a nice, normal time. Relaxed. She mentioned that Mother's Day was coming up on Sunday, I mentioned that my sister was planning to come see her, and then she looked right in my face and asked me who was my mother. It really took me by surprise. I've been told not to contradict her, so for a split second I wasn't sure what to do. I finally decided to tell her that she was my Mother, but then I just moved on to some other topic.

Two nights ago, she was having a bad delusion in the middle of the night. I tried to calm her down, but she was really worked up. So, I asked Doug to speak to her. She takes a lot of comfort from him. When he came back to bed, he told me it didn't really make a difference, and then he made an off-handed comment that stunned me. Really made me sad. I asked him if I should go back and talk to her, and he said, "She doesn't even know you. She called you 'that woman.'"

Oh.

I knew this was going to happen, that she would forget me, but it sure is hard. That second exchange with Doug---and, he wasn't trying to be mean---just kind of affirmed the reality of it all. 

It also kinda threw me for a loop. If my Mother doesn't know me, than who am I? Who does she think I am? How does she see me in those times when she doesn't see Caroline? This puts a whole different spin on things for me. Now, I am sometimes caring for a stranger. How will I treat this stranger? I better be careful, because I can cause her so much more trauma now if I am short-tempered. Oh, it's really challenging. I wish I could get inside her head. And, the fact this happened when all seemed so peaceful and well, made me think there are probably many times like that, when she just sees me as that woman, that woman who cooks for her and gives her medication. It's kind of depressing. I can't dwell on this, but it does demand attention. 

Someone commented on my last blog post and essentially asked, "What if it hadn't been good news? Do you praise God then?" This song is my response, with a note of explanation that though my prognosis is good, my diagnosis was cancer. Yet, this has been my song since the beginning, because God is worthy to be praised, no matter the diagnosis or prognosis. HE IS WORTHY! What happens to this body doesn't matter. It is what He allowed to be done to His Body that gives this pile of clay a reason to live, and a future after death.

Praise the Lord!

Well, not so much. It will be about a week for the blood results. I thought they'd already drawn the blood for that particular test, but they hadn't. So, I get to wait some more. However, it was a good visit. Informative. The anemia is s l o w l y improving. My body doesn't seem to want to hold onto iron. Weird.

So, a few more days, I guess. I am HOPEFUL!

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