Not a good day!

Although she did not fall, and has not fallen all week, today was not a good day for my aunt. Her mind was otherwise occupied. Also today, she seems to be having more trouble getting up from a chair and having more trouble walking.

I decided to keep the bed rails up all week, keeping her "locked in." She may have forgotten how she got out years ago. (She would scoot to the end of the bedrails and get out of bed.) Now she wakes in bed and will probably be wet. But, this is better than wet and on the floor.

Before she was awake, I heard her talking in her sleep. This was unusual, because I don't remember hearing her before. The conversation was not in a jumble, but coherent sentences. Around 10 a.m. she was telling about a dream she had. She says that she rarely remembers dreams. Later in the morning when she was alseep in the recliner, she was talking again.

From her naps she wakes almost startled and is quick to get up. As soon as I hear her I go to her room and ask where she is going. The first time she said that she heard my mother returning. She could not tell me where o with whom this was happening. The second time, she got up in a hurry to make the bread. This was a dream or something else. Later in the day she asked if there were cokes for my mother. The final comment was around 4 p.m. when she came out of the bathroom and asked me if my mother was asleep.

 Today we also had a "change-your-clothes" marathon. There are three items to take off and put on, the underpants, the slip, and the robe. Because her modesty and sense of decency prohibit it, I cannot help her directly. I stand outside the bathroom door and try to direct her. I say, "Take this off and put that on. Tell me when you are done." After a while she says that she is ready. The dirty slip is half way off and the clean one is on. And so it goes with the other items. The care providers, both women, do this task for her, when they are here.

At the end of the day, her brain was still working randomly. She talked about a bag of photos, asked about her bank account, and referred to my mother again, in the present. I can only hope that tomorrow will be a  better day.

Joe