A day in my life...

I truly have no way to accurately describe what a typical day is like around here.  Some days we have long periods of quiet and utter boredom.  I spend my time quietly, always afraid to upset the balance.  Other days are tension-filled from the moment Mom wakes up.  Yesterday was a day of such extreme stress that I thought I would explode from it.

When Mom is agitated, very little will calm her down.  Most often, the agitation lasts a few hours.  But, occasionally, like yesterday, it is an all day occurrence.  It began about 9 am and didn't end until almost midnight.  The agitation usually starts off with a her asking a simple question.  "Are you going out?"  It then escalates depending on which wrong answer that I choose.  And because her mind has difficulty processing simple information, all answers are wrong answers.  So, "Yes, we are going out", becomes "I'm being left behind.".  "No, we aren't going anywhere", becomes "Well, then I will go by myself. Where are my shoes?  Who stole my purse?"  Being evasive is even more disastrous.  She becomes furious if you don't answer the question.  And fury is not a good thing.

I think one of the most difficult things is when she wants a normal conversation. I have tried several times to write an example of her conversations but they just don't translate to the page.  In fact, looking back, the conversations are so absurd that I begin doubting that I even heard what I know that I heard.  This is one of the mild conversations that we have on a very regular basis... as in daily.

Mom:  "Will someone be here to pick me up?"
Me:  "Why do they need to pick you up?"
Mom:  "To go home."
Me:  "You live here."
Mom: "Nobody told me that! What time will they be here?"
Me:  "Nobody is coming."
Mom:  "You just lost me my job!  Now what will I do?"
Me:  "Mom. You live here. This is your home. You don't have to work."
Mom: "Oh my!  They are going to hurt me.  And you don't even care."
Me:  "I care. I won't let anyone hurt you. That's my job."
Mom:  Calmness.  "So what time will they be here to pick me up? Where is that man?  He  told me he would be here."
Me:  "I guess he'll be here in a little bit then."
Mom:  "No, he won't.  He doesn't like you so how do you know he's coming?  He won't come if you're here."
Me:  "I'm sorry."
Mom:  "No you're not. When are they coming then? I need my things. Did you take my things?"
Me: "Does anyone hear that hammer?"

You may change this up as you see fit for the next several hours.  And, that is my life.  Well, that and a lot of yelling.