moving... again

Mom's journey down the path of dementia, has lead her to another wing of the assisted living residence. The wing that is not independent living. Last week Mom moved to her new room.

This is the more-assisted living wing, the wing where the exit doors have key pads, so only those who know how, can leave. This is the wing where the glass stemware at the dining table has been replaced by safe plastic drinking glasses and the table cloths have been replaced by cloth place mats. The elegant dining room has been replaced by the communal gathering area.

This is a small neighborhood of people, those who need extra help. It's where Mom will get more daily help with dressing, cuing, bathing, more personal monitoring.

Hopefully she will be calmer and happier, because she will be more directed. For a while now she didn't know where she should be or what she should be doing. Mom was lost. She was lost in her head and lost in the independent wing of the assisted living residence. Her world had been 150' of a zigzag hallway, from her bedroom at one end, to the dining room at the other, and she was lost. She was frustrated, confused, anxious, and lost.

Her new room is in the part of the assisted living residence where I thought she might be placed last fall, when she first moved there. However, she was able to live in the independent wing for the past nine months. Now it was time to move. It has not been an easy move for Mom. She wants to be back "up there with the grown ups." She doesn't want me hanging up her photos and knickknacks because "I'm only going to be here for a week."

There is grief. I'm saddened by the continual decay of my Mother's being.
But there is comfort knowing that she is where she needs to be, where there are nice people caring for her.

but

I HATE dementia

I HATE Alzheimer's disease

I HATE IT

I HATE IT

I HATE IT