In fact, with the aid of a walker, Mummy strides up and down the halls in her care center — sometimes for hours.
My mom cries constantly and lashes out at my grandfather, and the stress was so intense I think it contributed to her breast cancer diagnosis last year. I was relieved to see him comfortable in his hospital bed in a deep sleep surrounded by family because it was the way he had wanted to go, right? For at least 3 years he has been wasting away on their couch.
When I say he was comatose, I am not saying it lightly.
Before my dad showed signs of memory loss, Mummy had been the primary caregiver for her own mother who had some form of dementia.
Then, she managed the care of her brother, a lifelong bachelor, who had probable Alzheimer’s.
She is nothing more than a ZOMBIE sucking all the money out of us for no good reason she brings NOTHING to our lives but resentment and hate! My grandfather (age 83) has just been placed in a rehab facility for what appears to be the end of his life, he is not eating and forgotten how to swallow food. I am 23 and since I was 13, he has been living with my parents as they are his full time caretakers.
I moved out of their house at age 17 to go to college (as my parents harshly remind me everyday that I didn’t help them care for my grandfather).
She is entering the latter stages of dementia and has already lost so much cognitive ability.
Even with all the research and focus on Alzheimer’s, there is no cure and not even effective treatment or drugs that will slow the progression of this elusive disease.
I don’t even believe in a higher power, let alone one true God.
Even so, for the past several years I often find myself praying.
Instead of a magical cure, I pray for an end to my mother’s life. Ironically, Mummy, as her family often calls her, is in remarkable physical health.