“Macbeth does murder sleep—the innocent sleep, sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care. The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath. Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, Chief nourisher in life’s feast.”
Oh Mr Shakespeare could you have been describing dementia and sundowning syndrome? Ma’s sleeping or should I say, lack of sleeping is starting to make me into a cranky old crone. I can’t remember what a full night’s sleep is like. I seem to sleep like a mother with a newborn, lightly, waking with every whimper and moan that Ma utters. If Ma is having a hard time with her bladder she will be up and down more times than I care to recall. Other nights it’s because of ‘people in her room’ or fixations or just her interpretation or her surroundings (like my poor housekeeping in not pulling up the bedding or leaving clothing hanging up!).
On a BBN or Bad Bladder Night as I call them, we can be up every 2 to 3 hours. I feel like I’ve no sooner fallen back into bed before I hear the clunk clunk of Cyril the wheely walker heading down the hall to the toilet. I stumble out and assist with my back turned dreaming of my nice bed while I wait for her to finish, pull her pants up and show her how to get back to her room.
Now the weather is colder I need to make sure I tuck her back in as she feels cold nearly all the time and can’t pull the bedclothes up by herself. I have flannelette sheets on her bed and two fleece blankets and a doona but she’s still cold. Lately she’s asked for me to put her ‘bluey’ on, which is a neck to knee fleece dressing gown which makes her all snuggly warm, or her poncho.
Recently she was fixated on her handbag. She carried it everywhere she went, even into the toilet. She would open it and count the money, she’d take the purses out and hide them. So in the middle of the night she’d get up to count the money or look for the purses which she’d forget she’d hidden. The money would always be missing, not that she could tell me how much money was in the bag or how much was missing. Sometimes the money and purses were still in her bag but she just couldn’t see them. At 3am I’d hear her shouting to ‘the man’ to give her back her money! I finally couldn’t take it anymore and confiscated her bag telling her I was keeping it safe. I also told her if she thought there was any money missing, I’d reimburse her. She hasn’t mentioned the bag since.
Some nights she wants to sit on the side of the bed reading. I will go back in to find her asleep with her head in her lap or lying backwards across the bed. There is usually an ulterior motive such as a ‘person’ in her bed so she can’t lie down. I will never put dark coloured sheets back on her bed again! The week I had them on her bed she needed me to show her there was nobody there whenever she returned to her room of a night.
She is usually very restless of a night nowadays. You tuck her in and 5 minutes later she is sitting up. If she goes to sleep, it’s only for an hour and then she’s awake crying or doing what I call her ‘Moaning Myrtle’ (Harry Potter). It’s not exactly crying it’s more of a weird kind of whimper. I’ll ask her what’s wrong and it will be that she’s all alone, or that she wants to go home, or she wants to get dressed (which is weird because she’s been spending all day in her ‘Bluey’ and nightdress as it’s the only way she’ll feel warm). I can never tell when it’s going to be one of ‘those nights’. She can seem perfectly alright going to bed but within a couple of hours she’s awake and restless. The other night she called me into her room because there were flames shooting out of the bookcase. Thank goodness she was wrong! She settled down once I’d checked it out.
Last night was ‘one of those nights’ and now she has dozed her way through the day. I feel like waking her up every time she drifts off… but that would be mean… but sometimes I feel like being mean. Ah sleep…….