An Apothecary Discussion

     Came home from a weekend away to find all of Ma's meds not taken.  At first I thought My brother had not come to check on her, but he did and said she refused to take the medication.  She seems to think that her medicines are the cause of her forgetfulness.  So upon returning from work this evening we had a "Brother Love, Come to Jesus Meeting" concerning her medications.  At first she denied not taking them and later relented and again blamed the medicine for her logic and memory loss. I wrote her a letter, in bold 22 font courier lettering, the only way to communicate with someone who is severely hearing impaired and near blind.  I reviewed my efforts in regards to her medications outlining how I had taken them all to the local apothecary to determine if they were appropriate, not improperly prescribed, and not mind altering.  I got the impression that she felt I was medicating her unnecessarily.  While I must confess that I delighted in the fact that her cough medicine makes her drowsy an puts her to sleep, I am very cautious concerning her medications, all for her heart and aricept for her dementia.  All very necessary for her to stay alive and as current as possible.  I guess I'll have to stop giving her the cough medicine which is the only thing that affects her adversely.  I went on to tell her that it was unfair that I cannot go away for a couple of days and have her cooperate with my reluctant assistants.  She moved right to Irish Guilt, saying that maybe I would be happier if she were in an old folks home.  Sure, pull out all of the stops to try and make me feel responsible for her belligerence.  The truth is it is probably her next stop if and when I can no longer guarantee her health and well being.  I will not tie her down and force medicine into her but will send her where she can get the medicine she requires.


     Ma cleaned the apartment in my absence, if that is what you call it.  She moved stuff around and used 9 rolls of brawny hand wipes and put all the refuse under the sink in her special place.  I spent two hours cleaning up after Ma cleaned up and must confess she has become a major source of aggravation.  She also hand washed her undergarments which were hung everywhere in the bathroom.  There are some things a son should not have to see.  I rewashed the dishes, dumped the uneaten cereal she saves, and generally cleaned up the mess made over two unsupervised days.  


     I would like for Ma to expire quietly and peacefully in her sleep.  I don't want to subject her to the humiliation of a Nursing Home and I sure to want to see her have a meltdown with her delusional visitors while I am away.  Life is surely comprised of two childhoods, one of fearless youth with good times and a sense of invulnerability.  The other, a fearful desperation worsened by diminishing abilities and mobility.  It is difficult to watch and more difficult to participate in.