I share many things with my grandmother. We both love jigsaw puzzles, Broadway musicals, junk food, show tunes, and everything Christmas. There is no one else in my family that I share this connection with. Car rides with her are the best, because we sing the entire time. We used to go see my cousin perform in high school musicals and we often got lost because we would be singing and not paying attention to where we were going. My grandmother is my last grandparent, and the one I am the closest with. We have shared some amazing memories together. But now, something neither of us have control over is taking these memories from her.
About a year and a half ago my uncle underwent major surgery. I drove with my grandmother to go see him on a Friday. We made plans to have breakfast together the next morning at 8 am. 8:30 rolls around and no Grandma. She called me at 9 and asks “Hey Tricia, want to go to breakfast this morning?” It was as if we hadn’t even talked the day before. And the whole time at breakfast, she told stories that she had just told me on Friday. I mentioned to my parents that I thought her memory wasn’t so good and my parents said it was just stress from my uncle’s surgery.
Fast forward seven months, and I am Christmas shopping with my grandma and uncle. My grandma’s clothes were baggy and it seemed as if she hadn’t washed in a few days. My uncle was now on board that yes, Grandma’s memory problems were most likely being caused by something other than stress.
And this brings us to today. When asked why it seems that she hasn’t been washing her hair, my Grandmother gives the excuse that when she takes a shower she forgets if she has or hasn’t used soap and shampoo already. She forgets to check the litter box, renew her car insurance, wash her clothing, and turn off the stove. My grandma had called my dad and said she couldn’t get the stove to light. He shows up and she isn’t there and it’s probably over 100 degrees in the house because my grandmother had confused the stove dials with the oven dials. She forgot my dad’s birthday, and when exactly her husband had died. My uncle had another surgery recently, and she forgot what hospital he was in.
The most frustrating part of all of this has been that when we did take her to the doctor to have her memory checked out, the doctor gave the same excuse we had a year and a half ago: it’s just stress from my uncle’s latest surgery. Completely disregarding the fact that my grandmother failed all of the memory tests. Without a diagnosis, there is absolutely nothing that we can do for my grandmother.
I am thankful that my grandmother still remembers who I am. But, I know the day is coming when she won’t and I am terrified. When I lost my grandfather’s it happened very quickly and when my other grandmother got dementia, I didn’t fully understand what was going to happen. But, I am fully aware of what is happening to my Grandma Cole. The little things that make her her are slowly being robbed from her. It’s slow and drawn out and it’s not going to get better, it’s only going to get worse. I know that dementia may eventually rob her of her ability to walk, eat, and use the bathroom. And I know that we will probably end up having to put her in a nursing home. I visited a nursing home once and we walked through a sitting room for dementia and Alzheimer’s patients. In the room was an elderly woman rocking back and forth repeating over and over “I wanna go home, I wanna go home.”
Please God, may that not be my grandmother’s fate.
