That which is not (from January 30, 20232)

 That which is not

Sounds like an interesting place to be

It should be the spot

But will time's stream set me free?

Dementia is hell

 Dementia is hell. 

It is beyond my comprehension why God allows for the slow death.

Time and time again I have tried to reason with Mom.

Always at the most inopportune times.

It's a lose/lose situation. 

There is no winning.

Damned if I do.

Damned if I don't.

I've exhausted myself trying to get though to her of late.

Why?

It's too late.

It's impossible.

Why God?

Why so much?

Where once a stubborn person, now an impossible person.

Soon I may have to move.

I can't go down with her ship anymore barring a miracle.

Fuck Part 2

 Not sure I am going to post much here anymore, if at all. 

Seems pointless. Just one pile of shit moment after another.  

The hand is a big problem these days.  I forgot to put a men's diaper on last night. So I wet the bed, of course. Wake up in the middle of the night in a wet bed and hand aching. Removing sheets and blankets and replacing them is not an easy thing to do on Dad's monstrous old bed, especially with painful knots in the palm. 

Meanwhile Mom is driving me crazy with repetitive bullshit. And she was getting annoyed that I could not wash and dry fast enough so she could wash some towels of which she probably has three times what she needs in her bathroom. She doesn't really need to wash towels.

 Never ending. 

I'm tired of everything.  Relief seems short lived. 

It's fucking fucked up trying to take care of Mom when I have so many issues of my own. 

Why write here anymore?

 Not exactly a warm fuzzy. 

Fuck

 Didn't post the prior post which was an unfinished poem.  Too personal.

So, here we go again with more turmoil. 

It never ends. 

Never. 

I have cords under the skin of my left hand.

It's causing the fingers to curl up, especially at night.

Sometimes hurts like fuck to uncurl them. 

Rarely stops hurting at all.  

I see a hand surgeon on the 14th.  

Happy fucking Valentines Day.

 I must avoid another surgery if possible.  

My nurse told me it depends on me and how much pain and dysfunction I can handle.

Actually I can handle a lot.  

I've had this issue for years.

Covid-19 exacerbated it the past month. 

Fuck. 

Fragments of dreams becoming real

 Whenever Mom wakes up from a nap in the afternoon or evening it's a time conducive for delusional thinking. Not something I see in the morning. This morning I slept late until about 9:30 and the morning conversation did not go good. In fact initially it was nothing more than vague fragments of words that could not be completed.  Mom was repetitively starting and stopping, each time giving up on completing her thoughts. 

It reminded me of late in the day events so I asked her how long has she been thinking about this.  Since she woke up? "Yes."  Since she had probably been awake a couple of hours, in all likelihood she had fallen back asleep in her chair and dreamed and was now trying to make sense of a dream deemed as reality.

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At this point I stopped writing last night as I was too depressed thinking about Mom's ongoing demise. I was going to write some examples of yesterday's fragmented thoughts.  Couldn't do it. Still can't. 

Today she was not as detached from reality but still quite detached.  She took a nose dive at the end of last year from which she has not recovered. 

One example from last night. As she was telling me goodnight she mentioned she did not know what to do about the lights.  Normally she turns them off as she heads to bed.  I told her I would get them. 

Simple things have become difficult for her at times.  Simple actions or decisions have become complicated in her mind. 

Today I was deeply sad again thinking about the path she is on.  Her once brilliant mind is going. 

Mom 2023

 Me: "How do you feel this morning"?  

Mom: "I feel like I have food in my mouth".

Me: "What do you mean"?

Mom: "I feel like I have food in my mouth".

Mom: "I've been dreaming about Mom a lot. 

But she's not in any of them. 

 I mean she's not here when I wake up."

Mom had no food in her mouth but she needed to eat. She had forgot to eat. I'm slow to wake up in the morning and generally in a fog. Waking up to this is not easy. 

2023, a fresh start

 Two things happened simultaneously in the last week of the year. 

Mom became progressively worse as the year end drew near.

I got Covid-19 after seeing family on December 24th.

The combination of these two was not good.

The fantastic thing is that it is a NEW YEAR!

Got out for the first time this year to do some grocery shopping today. 

Still weak but not contagious and it was a wonderful time out of the house. 

I am very fortunate to live in a truly beautiful state. 

Tonight I watched a video on YouTube that gave me hope and encouragement as a caregiver.

Life is good.