Advice from my kid

Late this afternoon, my Nurse Girl gave me some really good advice for coping with being my mom’s target when her paranoia and ire are at a peak. My daughter shared she tells her families to view their loved one as though they’ve just woken up from anesthesia. Just like a surgery patient, the family member with dementia potentially doesn’t know where they are, who you are, what’s going on, why they’re where they are, and, sometimes, who they are. This resonated. I was sharing mom’s latest growl (sent via email), and my measured reply. I shared that what was really hard was to have spent more than half a day at my mother’s in the hot sun, working my ass off, and then come home to her rampant forgetfulness sprinkled with accusations of not keeping her the loop. My daughter asked me, “Remember how my big sister woke up from anesthesia?” I did. Angry, fists curled. She asked, “Did you ever take my sister’s reaction to anesthesia personally?” Of course I didn’t. My girl said, “Transfer that understanding, grace and empathy you held for my sister, to your mom.”

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