Content warning: I'll mention death in this post.
Two weeks ago I went to visit the orchard I mentioned in my last post. I wanted to write about it last week but I ended not writing anything at all.
My grandfather passed away more than five years ago. After that my mother, my sister and I decided to bring grandma to live with us, as she had advanced Alzheimers and my mother didn't want her to be left alone or under unsupervised care of unfamiliar people. My mother has a certain amount of siblings and they all agreed. We renovated the bathroom and prepared a bedroom to fit all her necessities (wheelchairs, adjustable bed, etc). Even though we've always had help both from family and caretakers I'll say that taking care of someone 24/7 isn't easy at all. Especially someone with a degenerative condition.
As most of you know, Alzheimers patients forget how to do things. As the disease advances, they forget more and more basic behaviours. Things we really, really take for granted, such as swallowing your food or even breathing. You may be thinking that those things are automatic (as they mostly are, of course) but when your brain is severely damaged, they aren't as automatic anymore.
So grandma developed problems swallowing food a couple of years back but we've managed so far... until this last week when she choked badly on her food. It was nasty. For the sake of not going into too much detail I'll just say that she made it to the hospital and also out of it. Doctors are amazed that she's made it this far. Apparently, getting food into your lungs is something that kills 90% of people her age (over 90 years old, grandma really is a tough cookie) most of them during the ambulance ride and the rest within the first 3 hours at the ER. Because of her age, undergoing any kind of surgery is absolutely out of the question but because of her condition, even if she fights this infection (caused by having strange bodies in her lungs) this is bound to keep happening. The doctor will asses her tomorrow and a decision will be taken.
As she's in critical condition right now (she wasn't exactly discharged but hospitalized at home, under her family's care which apparently isn't uncommon and we're lucky that one of my cousins is a nurse) so she was moved to her house, which is nicer than mine because it has great windows that allow you to see the sea. Also it's always been their family home so my aunts and uncles feel more comfortable coming and going there instead of my mother's house, where I'm currently at.
Grieving is weird and wild. I've known from the very beginning of being with her that I'd never want not to be of sound mind. The pain that comes from the confusion of knowing that you're loosing your mind is something that can only be understood when seen first hand. Knowing that something isn't going to improve and living with it daily gave me the chance to make my peace with it. Sadly, I can't say it's been the same for my mother and her siblings. Because grandma has survived so many things that were supposed to kill her during the last few years most of them hoped that she could leave us peacefully instead of some accident.
Seven adult people taking care of their mother in the same house, all frantic and grieving is hard to deal with. My mother moved in with her, as she always does when they go there for the summer, with the difference that she's never alone now. There's at least one of her siblings there at any given moment, even at nights. Because of this my sister and I have been taking care of some things, like the moving and such. We also make sure they can focus on taking care of grandma. It's a stressful situation for everybody and thing are getting kind of ugly between them. I'm anxious because it'll get even uglier sooner or later and my mother has a heart condition that even her siblings are worried about but sometimes they just can't avoid exploding. We'll see how that goes.
In order to deal with all this stress I've been recurring to my common things, such as certain films, books, etc. The joke here is that I started relying on those things on February when I learnt that I'd have to send my dog back home and decided to quit my degree. I've used them so much during the last months that I've just exhausted them. They no longer provide comfort for the most part but I don't know what else could do it for me, so I'm stuck in a kind of limbo here. Two days ago I tried a new extreme method of finding comfort in food: I opened a can of condensed sweetened milk and ate a spoonful. This thing is literally 55% sugar. By the second spoonful my tongue felt coarse. I was disgusted. On one hand I appreciate knowing that finding comfort in sugar does no longer work for me as I've grown accustomed to eating healthier foods. On the other hand, eating something and feeling better would make everything so much easier. I have also managed to loose another kg this week, during all this. I can't imagine how or why. Maybe by carrying suitcases up and down stairs.
Anyways. As always, thanks for reading.
