Friends, once again, I’m here continuing with The Caregiver’s Chronicles. This adventure began about four years ago and has only grown—worse, faster, and more intense. I always like to tell these stories from a positive and humorous perspective, and that’s what I’ll do once again. My mother’s illness is progressing “well” (hahaha, meaning it’s following its course), and sometimes, as I’ll share today, it leaves us with funny anecdotes (well, we have to think they’re funny, or else we’d jump out the window). I invite you to keep reading…

So yes, this is the story of a grandmother with dementia, a daughter, a grandson, a granddaughter, and a caregiver. The adventures of a grandmother with dementia are many, but sometimes, some of them are a bit peculiar and downright “awkward” (I think awkward means strange or uncomfortable and unusual situations). So today, I’m going to tell you about one that truly stands out for its awkwardness. Hahaha. Let’s get started before this post runs away from me.

Here’s the situation: My mom was “sleeping,” my daughter was asleep, my son was working, and the caregiver and I were in the storage room. So far, so good. The caregiver and I went back upstairs to the house, and suddenly, we heard a faint voice calling for help in the distance: “Help me, help me.” We both ran to my mom’s room, and my daughter woke up and joined us. The three of us were scared to open the door because we didn’t know what we were going to find. My mom doesn’t have much strength anymore, and if we’re not careful, she often trips or falls.

The three of us exchanged glances, and I think we all closed our eyes before opening the door (at least, I know I did). Honestly, I should have kept my eyes closed because when I opened them, I found myself in a situation I’m not sure I can describe accurately—but I’ll try.

We walked in to find my mom naked, wearing nothing but socks on her hands. She was wedged (I don’t know how else to describe it) in the second drawer of the bedside table. Sitting there, completely stuck, unable to get up. The three of us exchanged looks of disbelief (another word—I think it means sheer incredulity). I need you to know something about me: I have a lifelong flaw. When I’m faced with an extremely stressful, shocking, or bewildering situation—or even terrible news—I get very nervous and start laughing. And that’s exactly what I did (I know, it’s terrible, I know).

My daughter said to me, “Mom, how can you laugh?” which, of course, only made me laugh harder. The poor caregiver looked like she was in shock; she wasn’t saying anything, just staring at the three of us, probably thinking, “I am never coming back to this house.”

After taking a moment to process the situation, we snapped back to reality and heard my mom saying, “Someone hit me on the head because I don’t remember anything. They shoved me in here and poured water on me.” Forgive me, but I burst out laughing again.

We tried to pull her out, but she was really stuck, and we were afraid of hurting her. Finally, I managed to regain some composure and said, “Caregiver” (that’s not her name, but honestly, with everything going on in this house, identifying her seems like too much effort, hahaha), “you hold the drawer. Daughter, grab one of her arms and one leg. I’ll take the other arm and leg. We’ll count to three and lift her out and onto the bed.”

At the count of one, at the count of two (I started laughing again, so we had to start over). At the count of one (more laughter). After several attempts, we finally got to three and managed to pull her out.

The poor thing was trembling, repeating, “Such mean people, why do they do this to me?” We dressed her and brought her to the living room, where we gave her one of her favorite cookies. About ten minutes later, we asked her how she was, if she was hurt, or if anything was bothering her. She replied, “Me? Why would you ask?”

In short, she’d already forgotten the whole ordeal. We, however, will never forget it. I think it’s one of those situations you relive from time to time and that will probably never leave our memories (well, unless we end up with dementia, too, hahaha). We think she might have thought it was the toilet—that’s our theory.

And that’s the story for today. We’re still waiting for a spot in a nursing home. Oh well, late 2024 is just around the corner. Hahaha…