Mom has always complained to me that she doesn't want to live alone. But I knew her living in an apt in assisted living meant she would still be alone if she chooses not to socialize. And my hunch was correct.
She's been doing ok, for the most part, taking meals with others in the dining room. But she still keeps me "involved" by asking for me to bring things. I was hoping that this situation would ease her anxiety issues, but now that we're past the initial move-in/set-up stage, the anxiety is creeping back.
Wednesday she had an anxiety attack. And I'm not sure what started it. Her OT was there, and wanted to know if she was walking with her walker. She can't walk alone, but that's why we pay big bucks to have staff on hand to help her. But Tracey asked and she said "my daughter helps me". And I happened to be there, and straightened that out right away. No, I am not a nurse, and if she starts to fall and I catch her wrong, she could hurt herself. But worse, she could also hurt me. If that happened, who would take care of all this crap I take care of???
Or maybe it was her being anxious about her meds. Between Tramadol and Oxy, she takes a lot of pain killers. And seems to need Oxy more often. Between those, and her anxiety med that makes her drowsy, she can be quite unstable, another reason to not walk often.
She ended up needing the extra dose of anxiety med, and is going to ask the nurse Friday about getting her meds more scheduled rather than "as needed".
Part of this is a control issue. She tried to figure out her own med schedule and asked me to help. I tried to explain to her that no matter what we decided, the nurse has the final say so as to the timing when she can take which meds, and she shouldn't be so worried.
But "worry" is her middle name. Or her mantra. Or both!!
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