It was 7 am. I heard strange sounds coming from Mom's room.
I went into her room and found her struggling to get up from her bedroom chair. The chair had clothes folded on it, as well as her outfit for the day draped over the folded clothes. She was perched precariously on top, trying to leverage herself onto her feet with her can.
"Help me," she said, "I am feeling poor."
I helped her back to her bed.
I noticed her bedsheet had a stain on it from the night before.
"Let me get this cleaned up."
Mom was upset, adammit, "No! No! Leave it alone. Please leave it alone."
"Ok, Mom, no worries." She climbed back into bed.
"How about I get you your teeth and your tea?" I asked.
"That would be wonderful!" She replied enthusiastically. As if this was the first time I had ever done this with her.
I put the kettle on and rinsed her dentures.
Coming back into her room with her dentures, Mom was up again and going to the commode. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed the mark off the bedsheet as best I could. Mom looked on from the commode, bemused at my efforts. I laid a clean, dry towel over the damp spot and she climbed back into bed.
Looking back at the chair, I asked Mom what had happened. She said she was going to get her housecoat but couldn't manage and sat down on the chair. I realized she had lost her strength and just happened to be able to sit down on the chair in that moment, landing on the pile of clothes on the chair seat. It dawned on me that if the chair hadn't been there, Mom would have gone straight down to the floor, risking bruising, or worse, a broken bone.
She was feeling too weak to stay on her feet, and then, to get back on her feet once she sat down.
Yesterday Dr. Grant called for a urine test to see if Mom has a urinary tract infection (UTI). Apparently a common symptom of these infections is confusion. I had thought Mom was just going through age-related cognitive decline.
This morning I asked Mom, "Are you feeling confused?"
She sadly nodded her head.
"Are you feeling weak?"
Again she nodded.
"How about for today we get you dressed in comfortable day pyjamas and have a rest day? We are getting the medicine and tests because we think you have a urinary tract infection. It would probably be a good idea for you to lay low until we get the medicine started and you are feeling better."
"Ok." We picked out her nice plaid pyjama pants, a matching top and sweater, and she settled down to wait for her morning bath with the Caregiver.
When the Caregiver arrived, Mom elected to have her bath in bed instead of making the trip to the bathroom. This seemed the safest course given her current state. She seems happier, although she is struggling - I can see the tension in her face even as she smiles re-assuringly.
"I'm a weak old thing. I don't have much."