It amazes me how easy it is to manipulate Mom by using her Alzheimer’s. I rely on her non-existent memory to help her do things I want her to do. Today, when my husband Jeff and I visited Mom, I could see that her mouth was very dry, so I brought her a cup of water. Mom took one sip and said, “That’s water. Uhg. I don’t drink water.” “Oh, okay,” I said, retrieving the cup. Less than a minute later, I handed her the water again and told her, very enthusiastically, that I had b

Mom doesn't like to drink water. I'll hand her a glass, and when she takes a sip, she invariably says, "Uch. It's tasteless." Water is tasteless and colorless. My guess is that Mom doesn't really see the water. Her perception has been altered by her Alzheimer's. Drinking water is essential to our overall health. It flushes out unwanted wastes from our bodies. It aids in the prevention of constipation. It keeps us from experiencing headaches and pains from dehydration. And it

We seem to have turned a corner. Mom has finished her course of antibiotics, and is doing much better. She was more her positive self and we laughed and sang together. As I arrived at their building, a social worker was calling on the intercom to be let in for a surprise visit. The social worker was from Matav, the organization that helped my dad hire our lovely foreign caregiver; they try to send someone every two months to check on the families they assist. Mom was angered

Two weeks since I last wrote and my mom is still ill. She has a urinary tract infection that won't go away. She's been on three types of antibiotics and because pills have now become difficult for her to swallow, we're dissolving them in cranberry juice. While I was away, my brother Simon arrived from California for 10 days to help out. And this weekend, they all came to visit me—Simon, Mom and Daddy, along with my oldest and his wife, plus the two kids who still live at home