My mom spent countless hours playing cards with with my girls as they were growing up.
She and my second-born (whose face is hidden behind the tree) particularly loved Five Crowns,
and even though my mom groaned when my daughters won, I know she was secretly proud of her sharp-witted grandkids.
My mom always had a sharp mind.
She was quick.
She was clever.
She was usually one step ahead of everyone else.
And even though Lewy Body Dementia eventually took much of her brain and eventually her life, she fought back long and well.
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Last night I stumbled across an article about how to get your loved one with dementia to go to a doctor's appointment. Oh yes, that was always a tricky maneuver with my mom. The article laid out a lot of good suggestions, ones that worked for my mom and me:
- Do not announce the appointment ahead of time. On the morning of the appointment, simply slip it into the conversation that you'll be going out together. My mom didn't necessarily mind seeing doctors, but the anticipation totally stressed her out. I came to see that my secrecy was a gift to my mom's peace of mind, and I stopped feeling guilty about my manipulation.
- Make sure to schedule the appointment midday so there's lots of time to get ready. My mom did not like to accept help in her dressing routine, and it took a lot of patience to let her do things herself. I would sit on the couch and breathe deep.
- Write down your biggest concerns and privately hand them to the doctor's staff before going in to the exam. Sly as I tried to be, my mom usually noticed and asked me what I had given them. "Paperwork," I would vaguely reply. And that seemed to work.
- If the doctor or staff direct their attention only to you, redirect them to your loved one. When doctors talked exclusively to me - and I was shocked at how often they would - I would simply not reply, look at my mom, and let her answer.
- After the appointment, if your loved one is mad, commiserate with them about that "awful" doctor. But stop short of undermining the doctor's instructions. I have so many memories of listening to my mom rant after doctor's appointments. All my years of mothering teenage daughters came into play as I remembered to acknowledge her feelings without getting too involved in the content of the conversation. These were helpful, healthy moments in our relationship and though I didn't always enjoy them as they were happening, I am grateful for them now.
- Plan to do something super fun after the appointment, so your loved one's outing will end on a high note. My mom was all about that Olive Garden soup and salad combo, and a few warm bread sticks always, always cheered her up.
The full article here has many more nifty ideas.
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These tips brought back a lot of sweet memories of the times I had to maneuver my sick but still extremely clever mother into a doctor?S office. They really do work.
And my mom developed her own tricks too. During one visit, as we sat in the waiting room, I noticed that she was repeatedly checking and rechecking the lock screen on her iPhone, so I asked her what she was doing. ?Oh, this fool doctor never knows what day it is so he?S always asking me for the date. I memorize it before I go in.?
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My mother has been gone two years now. My feelings about her passing are still mostly unprocessed; I'm still outraged at how she suffered, and I'm so strangely relieved that her battle is over.
But then I remember how her indelibly sharp mind fought back against that terrible disease, and I can't help but smile.