Exhaustion | The Professor's Convatorium

Some of you may have noticed that I have been around our blogging community less, perhaps noticeably less. You would be right. That has been the case for some 3-5 months now, I’m unsure really. Here’s why… well, several reasons why.

Life. And…

Immediate family, specifically my Early Alzheimer’s Mom and unfortunately and negatively my 61-year old sister.

Mom

Much of what I’ve been having to do to care full-time/overtime 14-16/7 hrs. per day, 365-days the past near four years for my Mom has been covered in these previous three blog-posts: Click here for the first post, then the 2nd and 3rd are all linked together after.

No surprise, she has declined a little more since my last Alzheimer update-post in November 2023. Hence, my free-time to write blogs, comment on blogs I follow, or explore new blogs I’d enjoy has gone by the wayside to this present day.

Mom has now reached the point where cognitively and physically she cannot and/or is unable to help me do anything at all around our apartment. None of the daily or weekly chores for both our bedrooms, the bathrooms, the tub/shower, cleaning the kitchen daily 2-4 times per day, preparing two meals a day, all the grocery weekly/bi-weekly shopping and pharmacy trips, vacuuming and mopping of the apartment, caring for all the plants inside and outside as well as my herb garden outside—all of which are dead now and most are dead inside—and the chauffeuring to quarterly or biannual doctor appointments; she no longer drives.

Regarding my hard work on my herb garden, roses, and gorgeous geraniums outside last year, this past summer, autumn, and now winter has been utterly brutal on all outdoor plants/gardens. In the summer last year we had one of the worst infestations of huge tan-brown-green grasshoppers that devoured everyone’s plants. Some huge grasshoppers were at least 4-inches long. Extreme boiling temps in the day and extreme frigid temps at night doomed my 2024 efforts. On top of this unmitigated garden disaster, for 8-days straight I was so deathly ill I could not get out of bed, ever. I struggled bad to walk to the bathroom. I never ate during those 8-days. Consequently, all the indoor and outdoor plants suffered horribly.

One of my top priorities this late January is reapplying for her Long-Term Medicaid assistance for her eventual admittance into a full-time Assisted Living Memory Care facility where here in the central Hill Country of Texas are all extremely expensive, between $4,800/mon. to $7,300/mon. Most are private pay only. I must get assistance for this third reapplication as I learned the hard way last year—by ending up in the hospital for four nights back in late June—by a Medicare family consultant to guarantee that Mom gets approved. She does incredible work and has tons of experience in this hyper-complicated politicized out-tha-whaa-zoo process here in Texas. That was part of the reason why I ended up in the hospital with serious heart and stress-hypertension problems.

Concluding with Mom I have this comparison…

I was a stay-at-home Dad when my son was an infant until he turned two and my daughter at the time was 7- to 8-years old in elementary school. In 1999-2001 I was the stay-home parent during the day when their mother (my ex-wife now) was at her 8-9 hr. job in downtown Dallas. We lived at that time in a nice starter home in Carrollton, Texas. When she returned from work, and I had dinner ready and homework done, I went to my graveyard shift security guard job at 7:00pm until 7:00am the next morning. I did this for 18-months. By far the hardest jobs I have EVER had in my life!

Now, since August 2021, I am caring for—for all intents and purposes—my last 4-year old child… Mom. Literally. The huge difference, however, between my stay-home-Dad days/nights and right now since August 2021 is that I have been and still am “A One Man Show and Bad Dance.” Back in my married months/year I at least had a wife-partner and parent. Not this go round. This is harder than those 18-months, much harder. The “end” of this rough go will eventually be very different.

My Sister and Her 48-Year “Disease”

As a footnote to my header up top, my sister now weights over 275 lbs., not that weight in the Xmas 2014 picture. And that is the least health problems she has at present.

My 61-year old sister is also a Schizoid-affective Bipolar of about 25-30 years with regular bouts of very manic behavior. She is also a 48-year drug addict and alcoholic. And she also has poor judgement, cognition, and temperament or composure in stressful environments, all due in part to her psychiatric diagnoses. She is also presently on about 6-7 various psych meds daily. There’s the introductory details of what I must often help with, manage, or try to stop the hemorrhaging, as it were, when she has a psychotic meltdown.

On October 9th through October 17th, 2024, she had a major meltdown on me that involved her calling the police department on me—for a 2nd time that year, first in Feb. 2024—and became physically violent toward me inside Mom’s and my apartment almost breaking down or through my locked bedroom door. However, this was after her public meltdown with me at Western Union inside the local Walmart. If you are not familiar with psychiatric-psychologically dysfunctional people with a long, long history of disorders, eight prior felonies, prior addresses of residence that include over 25 Halfway Houses & Shelters, homeless 3-4 times under highway overpasses, and a long list of low-wage jobs that are longer than an encyclopedia… then just believe me when I say this: During those breakdowns/meltdowns, it is pure chaos and a rollercoaster of manic behavior sometimes lasting for over 10-12 hours without medication or in some cases until she is arrested by law-enforcement.

Then also imagine the stress, distress, crying, and emotional exhaustion she puts my elderly Mom through each episode, and you have a slight glimpse of what Mom and I have dealt with since 1978.

Should any of you wish to read the email (Page 1 click here, pg. 2 click here, short pg. 3 click here) I had to send to my sister about this latest 9-day/night psychotic meltdown on me—she was impossible to speak with civilly or maturely and logically those days and nights that I had to get a hotel room 2-nights when she wouldn’t leave Mom’s apartment—so consequently we have yet to speak to each other either in person or by phone or text message. She’s been and still being a royal, immature, asshole to me over a situation I had no control over whatsoever. As is often the case with arguing family members, the initial issue and subsequent meltdown at Walmart had to do with money, her portion of money Mom said she could have from the sale of Mom’s 2007 Toyota Avalon XL Sedan that I had completed after 4-months listed, all by myself, on Oct. 5th, 2024 for $7,600. The rest of the insanity is available via the “click here” links above.

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Therefore, the moral of my quick post here is that my “free-time” has been slipping further away the last 8-26 months as Mom continues to decline, my workload in everything around here increases because I have zero help—with the small exception of Mom’s professional hospice team that visits 3-times a week for 30-40 minutes at most, not on weekends or holidays—and my sister with her horribly shitty attitude and refusal to help out with Mom, much less help me with Mom with anything simple… just eats up every bit of every day now. And it doesn’t appear to be changing anytime soon.

My apologies my friends and followers. It is the hand of cards I’ve been delt for the moment. 🤷‍♂️

P.S. Oh! Almost forgot, my two kids in the header picture above. Since Oct. 6th, 2019, both of them no longer consider me existing. They have been heavily brainwashed and influenced by their mother’s and their maternal grandfather’s radical evangy-fundy Christian nationalistic theology and behavior to all non-believers that “God’s and Christ’s truly saved people should not and cannot be of the world [of sin and Satan].” They must totally separate themselves as “truly saved ones,” from all non-Christians. My two kids have not uttered a word to me or sent me even a text message since Oct. 6th, 2019. And they haven’t once answered my calls, text messages, or birthday cards sent to both since Oct. 6, 2019. 😔

Live Well – Love Much – Laugh Often – Learn Always

Stage 6: Moderately Severe to Severe Dementia

“When the patient begins to forget the names of their children, spouse, or primary caregivers, they are most likely entering stage 6 of dementia and will need full time care. In the sixth stage, patients are generally unaware of their surroundings, cannot recall recent events, and have skewed memories of their personal past. Caregivers and loved ones should watch for:

Delusional behavior

Obsessive behavior and symptoms

Anxiety, aggression, and agitation

Loss of willpower

Patients may begin to wander, have difficulty sleeping, and in some cases will experience hallucinations.”

Mom shows all of those four bullet-points now, although three of the four on some days and then perhaps two of the four other days. But there is always at least two of four every single day. She definitely needs supervision at minimum 12-16 hours per day with some of that time (1-hr at most) a “check-in” or Q&A time sporadically with her throughout the day to gauge how she’s getting along.

Friends and neighbors sometimes ask me how I am doing, how I’m managing my own health and social needs. Apparently, Caretakers of elderly parents with dementia or Alzheimer’s are often overwhelmed in a period time if they receive no relief, no break for themselves and don’t become well-informed of the two diseases. Another thing I’ve heard from the support-group I attend once a month is that the role of caretaker is usually a thankless job/role. Since late-stage dementia is basically early Alzheimer’s Disease, Alz.org lists Ten Symptoms of Caregiver Stress. I currently tick 9 out of 10 symptoms. The biggest reason why? I’ve been going non-stop, no break, every single day and night as her full-time, live-in caretaker since mid-August 2021, or over 47-weeks straight with no respite.

Back in late April of this year I was supposed to get a much needed 6-day, 5-night vacation up in Dallas, my hometown where all my good friends still live. We had several plans made and fun, exciting things to do, dancing, umm… and maybe some drinking included! 😉 But here’s what happened that week/weekend that changed everything: In Memoriam to My Brother. Hence, no real vacation for me at all. I spent the vast majority of my time at the hospital sitting with James, followed by waiting (alone) in my hotel room some 4-5 days and nights for decisions and details about his funeral. I had no motivation to go out alone or with friends; I wasn’t great company then anyway.

So yeah, over 47-weeks now and still counting.

Meanwhile, Mom and I march on, day-in and night-out, fighting a cognitive disease that takes a little more brain-space from her than we can actually replace or take back. But we do have our victories here and there. That’s when Mom wants to celebrate big with either glasses of her Pinot Grigio or I make a pitcher of my world famous El Presidente margaritas, which have a good patada de toro to the ass or head, whichever it reaches first. Hah! 🍸🥳 These are our cherished good times and there will come a day when they aren’t possible. And so we enjoy them thoroughly, when we can, and at length for sure. “Do you know what I mean?” 😍