'Naked and Angry' Meets 'Alert and Afraid'

I don't mean to scare any of you with my stories about Mom.  She is in advanced stages of Alzheimer's and it has been a long time in coming. We had a chance to prepare, and many years of good memories, laughter and mutual moments of enjoyment knowing that eventually things would change.  At some point we knew that the symptoms of advanced Alzheimer's would be unpleasant. Now that it is here, it's...um...well...there's no sugar-coating it; it has become very challenging and difficult! Mom is apt to experience mood-swings without warning, and while we have medication to help her with her agitation, it doesn't work well and we are witnessing an increasing number of bouts with an angry aggressive woman who is stubborn, argumentative and sometimes even exhibiting violent outbursts.  We are learning how to handle these events as well as we can, but we're not perfect and do not always react as well as we should.  So, for example, the other day when my mother  lost bladder control, soaked through her adult diapers, and was sitting on an unprotected upholstered chair, I asked her to stand up and move to the towel-covered chair that we assigned to her while I went to get her a fresh diaper and change of pants.  (It is her chair!  She knows that.  But she doesn't like having a towel on it and therefore sits on other chairs.)  Mom balked and told me in a nasty tone, "I can sit wherever I like!"

I told her that she had wet herself and was now wetting the chair.  I don't know why I said that.  She was only focused on the fact that I was telling her to move and didn't care what the reason might be.  I asked her nicely once again.  She gave me a pouty look and then turned away refusing to discuss further.  I reached over and grabbed both of her hands to help her get up off of the chair.  That's when Mom went off the deep end, (Think David Banner turned into the Incredible Hulk) shouting at me and telling me to leave her alone.  "Don't touch me," she yelled pulling her hands away and pounding her fists on the counter.

Again, I explained that she had to move and she said angrily, "You can't tell me what to do!"  ARGH!!!  I stormed out of the room. I was seething and wondering where I could find a stick of dynamite to blast her off the chair. (Would that be considered Elder Abuse?)  I began to laugh at myself as I envisioned something.  Let me explain; I have always been a fan of the silver screen and found that seeing some of life's more difficult moments as movie and cartoon characters makes it somehow tolerable. This time I chose Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner. (For the record, I saw myself as Wile E. Coyote with the dynamite plunger in hand.)  As usual, I found a reason to turn my frustration into something funny.

Dealing with Mom's anger is an everyday occurrence.  We have gotten used to her negativity, her anger and her mood swings.  She goes from stubborn refusal to do what we ask to laughing and cooperative within minutes.  What we are not used to, and what consistently surprises us, is her new affinity for nudity.  At any given time, Mom will whip off her clothes  and present herself to the world naked and unadorned.  It is horrifying to look away for a minute only to find that she has removed her clothes when I look back in her direction.  The other day, sitting right next to her, I was working on my laptop.  I looked over and noticed that Mom had fallen asleep.  I seized the moment to check a website and focused on the screen.  No more than 30 seconds later, Skip walked into the room and bellowed, "Mom!  What are you doing?!"  I looked up to see that she had removed her blouse and was beginning to pull off her pants.  "Stop!" He commanded.  Mom glowered angrily and narrowed her eyes menacingly as I reached over to help her put her blouse back on.

"OW!" She yelled as I pulled the top back over her head. (I hadn't done anything to hurt her...Honest!)  I recoiled wondering if this was going to escalate into a violent outburst.  My sweet mild-tempered little mother was now like Stripe in the movie Gremlins.  I was experiencing a fearful moment trying to figure out how to diffuse Mom's anger before she began running amok.  Thankfully, the moment passed.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  She transformed into her old self somewhat like Dr. Jekyll after being Mr. Hyde.

The other day, I heard a woman telling everyone that her 10 month old baby was now walking and I reminded her that when babies become toddlers, mommies grow eyes in the back of their heads.  Well, here's another warning.  When we become caregivers we once again have to hone in on our sensory skills.  Listen for the slightest sound, watch vigilantly, and most of all, never, ever let your guard down.  Stay alert, and afraid...VERY afraid!