Sometimes people can really surprise you

So, again I’ve fallen behind here in my world. There has been a lot going on, some good, some bad. And I come to you today with both.

Let’s start with the bad - since that has precipitated the good.

You all know the story of my mom. For new readers, here is the short version. Mom was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia (FTD) in December of 2008. This disease is an incredibly rare form that dementia can take, and it strikes young and it strikes the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. This is where behavior and personality are housed. With FTD you see crazy first. You see behavioral changes that are so beyond out-of-character that you believe your loved one has lost their mind. Typically they say a diagnosis of this disease comes when the person is 3 years in. So, you see 3 years of crazy before like me - I forced my mom to commit herself to a mental ward in order to figure out what was wrong. My brother and I had been begging her to get help for a year, and we had to threaten her with losing us, losing her relationships with her children, if she did not get help.

So after a week in the mental ward, we got her diagnosis in the December of 2008. All of the year 2009, my mom stayed in an assisted living facility until the money ran out. Then in the fall of 2009, I made the decision to relocate to Nevada, where my brother lives, and bring mom with. Las Vegas was chosen for 2 reasons, my brother was here, and the property values are cheap, so I could buy a house big enough to give us both room.

So the last week in November 2010, I moved Mom in with me. The plan was to have her stay with me as long as I was able. When her coastal property in Oregon sold, we would then have the capital to place her back into the care of professionals.

My mom moved in with me 4 months ago, and oddly and suddenly in the last 2 weeks, we watched a downward spiral occur. Her memory is slipping, and she is forgetting to eat unless I’m there to force her. There are other issues I could mention, but they are much more suited to a TMI Thursday post, and so I will spare you. But the big thing is, Mom’s brain is intermittently no longer communicating with her body.

The other night, I followed her into her bedroom to give her nighttime meds and to say goodnight. In the middle of the room, she froze. It was as if she was paralyzed. She stood motionless and would not take the last 2 steps to reach her bed. I physically tried to move her but was rather unsuccessful. After a couple of attempts, I had her leaned against her bed, but her brain wouldn’t tell her legs to push herself onto her bed. And she slowly slid down towards the floor. I waited with her until she “came back.” She got into bed, and I left to allow her to sleep.

This was a reality check.

I can no longer take care of her. Physically, I can’t lift her, I simply can no longer be the person she needs me to be.

I had no clue as to what we were going to do. While I make a great living, I absolutely cannot afford the $5000 per month that an assisted living facility costs. Who can for that matter?

I shared these experiences with my brother, and I worried what his reaction would be. He simply said to me, “You can’t take care of her anymore.”

I guess it would be an understatement to say I felt relief. I was validated for one thing, but what mattered was I had his support. Not that he hasn’t been supportive, because he’s been amazing, but I had my big brother, who never wanted me to have to do this in the first place say, “You can’t do this anymore.”

So, we discussed our options. We thought about getting a loan against Mom’s house, which would be a legal nightmare in and of itself and would probably never be approved. We thought about a loan from a friend who we know wouldn’t even flinch at the thought. We just sat there and thought, how do you ask for that?

In the meantime, I’ve been keeping in touch with my mom’s sisters. They have been worried about me, worried that I’ve taken on too much. Disapproving even that I made this choice to move Mom in with me. All the while offering no solutions. I think I even wrote a post about them. Both are rather wealthy, and both seem soooooo worried about me and so averse to the idea of me at such a young age taking on this challenge, yet both so unwilling to offer a solution or help. It’s made me angry. They are able, yet have been unwilling to help their sister.

The e-mails over the last 4 months have flown back and forth. No sugar coating. When they ask how I am, how she’s been, how hard things have been for me, I’ve told them. I haven’t wanted to let them off the hook.

Now, I know that in this life, no one owes you anything. Even family doesn’t owe you anything. But, I’m different.

I think that if life presents with you an opportunity to do something nice or kind for someone, you should take it. Without question. You take it.

I know that if it was me, and it was my brother who was suffering from this horrible, wretched disease, I would move mountains to take care of him. Especially if I was financially able.

So, yes. I’ve been bitter. I’ve had really bitter feelings toward my aunts.

Last week when asked by them, I told them the story of Mom’s temporary paralysis.

Enough of the dreary?

Ok. Here’s the good news.

The Aunts called and said, “We can’t save your Mom, but we can save you.”

*Tears

The Aunts have stepped up and have offered to loan us the money to place Mom back into an assisted living facility. No questions asked. No time limit. When Mom’s house sells, we pay them back.

Just like that.

A light in what has been a progressively, proverbial dark world.

Sometimes people surprise you.

When I got this phone call, I broke down and cried and finally admitted that this whole thing has been hard. I finally admitted to myself that as good of a front I was putting on, I must not have been as ok as I thought I was, because suddenly I had this overwhelming feeling of peace.

I have this horrible dichotomy of good and bad.

Bad that my mom’s disease is progressing - which of course we knew it would as there is no cure.

Good that she can get the professional care that she desperately needs, and good that I will have help and I will get my life back.

Sometimes people surprise you.