Which 50% is true?

So, one of the things that was going on this past weekend was a situation with my grandmother.  Not the one getting the cross-stitch (that's my maternal grandparents), but my paternal grandmother.  I say that there was a situation going on, and there was, but I don't want to deceive you, because it wasn't as if I had to deal with it, per se.  The people doing the heavy lifting in this situation were her children and children-in-law.  Nonetheless, due to a family party last Saturday, which fell during the time this situation was unfolding, the majority of the family is very aware of what's going on.

Anyway, my grandmother's grasp on reality seems to be tenuous, at best, as it has been for a couple of years, at least.  Even as far back as 10 years ago, I was warning people that 50% of what she said was just not true.  She's always been prone to exaggeration.  Intense exaggeration.  But in the past few years, she's lost her grasp on some names--newer members of the family, such as babies (sometimes she knows who they all belong to, and sometimes not) and new spouses--and seems to be functioning without an adequate sense of time.  She no longer understands money, it seems, and while her bills are getting paid (presumably) and she is smoking and drinking coffee, there isn't much certainty that she's eating.  She's whip thin, and looks frail.

But this is not a woman who is easy to budge.  She's quite mean-spirited, or at least has been in the past, and getting her out of her house (because she still does live alone, and quite scarily, still drives) is the problem of all problems.  I do not envy my aunts, uncles, and father for having to tackle the problem.  It can't be easy.  Nevertheless, after this weekend, it seems fairly clear to me (and probably most of us) that she simply can't continue living alone. 

A week ago, she fell.  She fell in a parking lot, and she broke her leg.  No one is sure how it happened, because she's told at least 5 different stories about it (and I heard one of those yesterday afternoon when I visited her), but suffice it to say, the break was bad enough (I believe it was in the femur) that she needed surgery on Friday.  She's fine; as fine as a woman with some stage of dementia going can possibly be.  But she couldn't go home upon release (as there really is no one to take care of her), so she's now in a nursing home. 

As I said, I visited her there yesterday (although, good heavens, not alone.  My mom was going, so I was basically just tagging along), and the visit was....interesting.  G-ma (how I often abbreviate grandma for IM conversations) was frankly, as cheerful as I have seen her in the past couple years, and seemed to ping-pong between wanting desperately to go home (not a surprise) and seeming to understand that there was a reason she couldn't go home (quel surprise!).  She seemed to live in reality, and then...not so much in reality.  I was thinking about it this morning, and I can honestly say that of all the things she said, I'm not quite sure how much was true.  I believe that when she said the food was bad, that was the truth.  She said her roommate was quiet, and that seemed to be true.  But other than that....well, it's hard to say.  At one point, she told us that her sister-in-law (my late grandfather's sister) had visited her, which was....interesting, as that side of the family has been feuding with us for years and years and years.  At least 15, I'd guess.  As to whether Tootsie and John did actually visit (and dude, it's totally not an alias.  I really have a Great-Aunt Tootsie), well, who can say?  I'd love to believe that they did.  But I can't be certain. 

I don't know precisely why I'm telling this story, because I'm not one of those girls who has ever been super-attached to the g-parents.  I have some great g-parent memories (of all 4, really) from my childhood, but as I grew up, that attachment was never maintained.  So unlike some kids, kids who really KNOW their grandparents, and feel extremely close, I don't have that.  Don't get me wrong, what's going on with my gma is sad.  It's sad and it's very hard to rationally deal with.  It's hard for me to think about how confused she must be, and how that feels.  But at the same time, there is some detachment there. 

Maybe I'm telling this story because right now, I've got stress-related eczema on my fingers (it's not gross, don't worry!) and there are other signs that my body is cracking under the strain.  Under the strain of what, I'm not necessarily sure.  Except that in the background, amongst all the other things, there is this grandma thing, and this situation?  Not even close to resolved.   So there it is, taking up space in my head, and possibly this was an attempt to get rid of some of that.  To exist more peacefully with it. 

Comments

[Dadmo]

Toots and John did visit...I saw their card. So, that's true.

The whole incident is strange but something like this was bound to happen. It's unfortunate that she broker her leg but it's fortunate that gma didn't hurt anyone else before she was rendered officially unable to be alone...let alone drive a car. She will not be living alone any more and I'm fairly certain her driving days are over.

She told me yesterday that she was hallucinating and she thought it might be the pain medication they gave her. This is possible because the whopper stories got even more whoppier and she only weighs 100 lbs so any meds might have sent her flying. She is also going through the mother of all nicotine withdrawals which could explain the hallucinations.

The nurse seemed to think that she was more lucid yesterday and I would have to agree. More lucid does not equal lucid though...she had no idea that I bought her a dishwasher.

I think we are in for a struggle but we are in a better position to direct what happens than we were before the accident.