Why can't my dementia Mom focus on anything for very long?

last One. not everyone Should Even Attempt To Be a Care-Taker.. Perhaps Your Mom will Do Better Somewhere Else

LastOne,
You have my sympathies. I'm not an expert. I was just wondering if she is trying to "go home" to a place she remembers as her home in her distant past, her childhood home, maybe?
Is there any way you can place reminders of her early life (like a photo album)near her so she can get cues that she has grown up, raised you to adulthood and now living in your current home?
Try playing music from her young adult years. I heard it works wonders.
Good luck, take care of yourself and continue your good work with your mom.

LastOne,
You have my sympathies. I'm not an expert. I was just wondering if she is trying to "go home" to a place she remembers as her home in her distant past, her childhood home, maybe?
Is there any way you can place reminders of her early life (like a photo album)near her so she can get cues that she has grown up, raised you to adulthood and now living in your current home?
Try playing music from her young adult years. I heard it works wonders.
Good luck, take care of yourself and continue your good work with your mom.

God - reading so many of the negative comments made by caregivers, I hope and pray that if I'm ever diagnosed with early Altzheimers or dementia, I'll have time to get my affairs in order and take a long walk into a lake. No one who has either disease is responsible for getting it. I took care of my husband for 11 years until he died - hell, it was the hardest thing I ever did but I never blamed him for his disabilities. Your parent isn't trying to drive you crazy, they can't help it. I can't think of anything more frightening than losing one's memories - it must be like a door closing bit by bit by bit until everything is strange and scary and bewildering. No, it's not easy to take care of someone like that, but normal is normal for them any more. They can't help it! They can't help asking the same questions over and over, they can't help forgetting, they can't help being a burden; I live in a senior residence; we all pray we'll died in our sleep rather than becoming a burden to our children. None of us, nobody wants to live with their children - they want to keep their independence as long as possible and then they want to die. More and more senior citizens are taking their own lives and it will get much worse when the politicians who oppose Medicare and Social Security cut benefits by 33% as they've promised to do. I wish they'd invent a little white pill that would painlessly "take us out" when we've lost our usefulness. Perhaps they will - that would be a very good thing!

Ladypamelade, I think that an overwhelming majority of people do not want to be a burden to their children. That is one of the things that makes caregiving challenging. I try to do what I can for my mom, but still find a balance in my life because I don't think she would want to be a burden if she was thinking clearly. In fact, my dad expressed that to me several years before he died, telling me that whenever I felt it was necessary, to place him and my mom in an appropriate care setting regardless of what they might say at the time. He went through the guilt with his own mother and wanted to spare me. I am so grateful that he said that because I know that I would not be a good 24/7 caregiver and my mom is in an AL facility. In effect, I feel that he gave me permission to handle things in a way that allowed me to have a life of my own. I still have some guilt about not doing enough for my mom or not doing everything she would like, but I try to maintain a balance. Maybe we should all have a similar talk with our children.

Lastone, I feel your pain. It is a lot to handle and can become overhelming very quickly. I know you don't want to put her in a home but may I suggest you at least look into an Adult Foster Home. These are small usually 6-10 residents and therefore they get more attention. If you check my profile page you will find a link where I wrote about these types of homes. They are becoming very popular because they are a family like setting and cost half of nursing home living. You may like this option. Everyone has to find their right balance. I hope you can find yours. Reach out to me anytime, I am a family caregiver for mom and also a private caregiver for my clients. I have been on both sides of the fence. Wishing the best for you. Ruth Anne

I made a comment earlier today and while I was looking for something I'd written in Word, I came across this letter that was obstensibly written by a mother in her 80's to her daughter. I was as profoundly moved, if not more so, reading it a second time, perhaps because I'm going to be 77 years old in a few months and I had a mini stroke last week that was terrifying but the symptoms were short lived. Here is the letter it's long, but it's worthwhile reading it:

Through My Mother's Eyes
By Martha Larche Lusk

My daughter, do you have any idea of the fears that haunt me? One is that I'll no longer be needed. Another is that I'll become a burden. I break out in a cold sweat when I think about having a stroke or an accident when I'm alone. This worry is alleviated somewhat by wearing my Lifeline Help Button that connects me with a hospital emergency room, but what if I couldn't press that button?
I live in terror that I might have some kind of lingering illness. And this fear flows into another fear - such an illness could wipe out my savings, destroying my very last shred of independence.
Do you realize how much of my precious freedom I've lost? Consider, if you will, having to depend on someone to take you to church, the market, everywhere. Once I was master of my own transportation. I could go anywhere I wanted, anytime. In our society, the automobile is an arm of independence. For me, old age amputated that arm.
I know my elimination reports bore you at times, but at my age when my body lets me know it is cooperating, I like to share the news; another accomplishment in another seemingly insignificant day.
Octogenarians are proud of any accomplishments, and one in which I take great pride is that I've conquered city living, and in my own apartment to boot. When you moved me here years ago, it wasn't easy to leave the small town that had been my home for almost my entire life, but I adapted. Yet sometimes the longing to be back in my hometown brings tears to my eyes.
But then sundry things cause me to weep these days. Some of the tears you don't see, like when I remember the two husbands I outlived. Or the tears I shed when staring at my one-sided flatness where a few years ago there was a breast. When I contemplate the chance I might someday face the cancer monster again, extra tears well up.
More often than not my emotions erupt with the hormonal spontaneity of a teenage girl. But at least emotions prove I still care, I still hurt, and I still love. Emotions prove I'm alive even though my life has taken some bizarre turns. One example is that I've lost my adult status. Yet no matter how many motherly duties you may perform for me, I'll never be a complete child of yours in the same way you were mine.
Although I'm deeply grateful that I have you to help me, I cringe each time you're forced to take over another of my tasks, such as balancing my bank account. I'm angry that I can no longer do it myself. I could tear that bank statement to shreds when I remember all my excellent office skills during those many years I worked. Perhaps if you'll now try working an algebraic problem (since algebra was never your favorite subject), you'll understand how I feel.
It's not only the bank account. You've taken over Medicare and insurance forms also. And now you must dispense my medicines, too. Over and over, day by day, I'm rendered more helpless. For every chore relinquished, old age claims another little chunk of me, making me fear the day I will be completely dependent.
Therefore, so long as I have a wee scrap of independence left, may I offer some loving advice to you, my daughter?
Don't fret when I eat a food not included in my medical diet. I know as well as you that it's wrong, but some pleasures are worth the sacrifice. To sneak a forbidden bite of a favorite food is just about the only adventure left in my life.
Try not to criticize me for what you see as clutter. While you choose to put things away, I find it convenient to leave them out, saving me steps and energy.
Show patience with my physical slowness. A quick step for you can be a slow painful one for me. Pain is my Siamese twin.
Let me talk, if I choose, about the past. Compared to the limited future, it's often more comforting to remember what has gone before instead; and if in the process of reminiscing, I repeat myself, try to overlook it.
Everybody forgets sometimes, even you; grant me the same human frailty. Forgetfulness doesn't always mean senility.
Let me complain about the weather. Realize that for me there's no perfect climate control. My personal thermostat responds to allergies, thinning blood, and aching joints.
Please don't push your way on me too much. Your way may not always be best for me. I'm not even sure efficiency is all that important anyway; a jumbled grocery list isn't the end of the world.
When people address you concerning my requests, bypassing me entirely, stand up for me; I still have a brain, as well as the ability to speak for myself.
I don't like to whine, but please spend as much time with me as you can. I love you, and I enjoy being with you. Contrary to what you might think, I'm aware of the toll all this responsibility has taken on you. It shows in your face. To take on the parental task of caring for an elderly child is to look in a mirror and see your own mortality. I can't help being a constant reminder of your future. And I know all the devilish challenges you'll face.
Now for my most important piece of advice, which is experience-borne. Strive to grow old with courage. I pray that in the future you may know more of the joys of old age than I and less of the trials. And may you always have someone like you, someone who cares.

Lady, that is so emotional, yet so true and insightful. I realize after reading that how much our parents must keep from us, perhaps not only from admission of frailty and embarrassment at growing old, but also to protect us.

I've copied it and intend to read it whenever I feel myself growing older, but also when I'm tempted to be short with my father. It will be a reminder that he sees life from a very different, and a very compromised, perspective than I.

I did Google it and found that it's an excerpt from a Chicken Soup for the Caregivers' Soul book. I'm tempted to read the book, which I believe I have, but I'll probably use up all the remaining Kleenexes I have.

Thank you for sharing this very moving revelation of a woman growing old.

Lady Thank you for sharing such a wonderfully expressed letter. I had a tough day with my motherr today but reading this made me realize just how difficult it's been for her. Thank you for reminding us whar they're going through. Im going to work on being more patient!

You poor woman. I have had my mom for only two months, and I immediately got her signed up for Adult Day Care. Your mom sounds like she is in stage 5. You need a break, even if it is only for two hours at a time. There has to be someone out there that can handle your mom. I have a friend that is a caretaker and she has handled some very hard cases, she is not a RN, but needed the money. Dont give up, maybe a friend of a friend? Senior centers have lists of people, church groups. You would be surprised how many people there are that were once care givers for their loved ones that can help and would be understanding.

Just another thought on this line of conversation -- I'm so glad we can converse this way and let others in to our often chaotic life with our loved ones. I can't imagine sharing my struggles with any of my family members or even church friends -- they would surely judge me as being selfish, inconsiderate, and unkind. And sometimes I am, just like many of you, but as I look back at the 3 years my mom has lived with my husband and I, I realize that I am basically a very loving and kind person being in a situation that tries my patience to an unbearable limit and where I fall often, but like all of you, I have learned to get back up and continue on this journey, because no matter what, my mom(dad, husband etc.) IS WORTH IT! She is almost 98 years old, wheelchair bound and has dementia, but still has enough wits about her to tell me when I kiss her goodnight and tell her I love her, "thank you for taking care of me". I open the window of my emotions and all the anger, frustration, and dissatisfaction with my life, flies out in the night air. (your loved one may never say that and I'm truly sorry for you if they don't )We need to get all those negative feelings out before we become monsters and this is where we do it and most of us understand totally and support each other. By doing this we are allowing each other to heal and learn new ways of handling difficult things and how to listen with our mind and our heart. Thank you for all of you -- we need each other in this 24/7 journey that we have been called to travel on whether we want to or not.

Joyfuljo, well said. We do need each other. Take care all!

Dear LastOne, I too am caring for my 90 year old Mother who has dementia. It is a very challenging job but I am happy to do it. That was not always the case though and I think like you are now I was very confused, anxious, frustrated and angry when these signs first started showing. It is incredibly frustrating and I think the whole "what the hell is going on here?" throws you for a sixer! Hind- site is a wonderful and helpful thing but unfortunately I didn't know several years ago what I do now so like you I had to go through all the emotional symptoms people do when dealing with the worries an d health issues of elderly parents.
May I ask if your Mother is on any medication to slow down the dementia? Mine is and it has helped. Although every day is still "Ground Hog Day"! I find it helpful to speak as you would to a child, very simply and patiently and slowly. Get their attention first by looking directly into their face, smile, make whatever you have to say sound like fun, even like a game as you would with a small child you are trying to teach. My Mother and I have lots of laughs together because I have finally found a way to help through each day while she deals with this sad, sad fog that has encompassed her brain. I pray that I can stay strong for her. I always try to remember she is not doing this on purpose, there is no way my Mother would ever have wanted to be like this. I hope you find a way to help yourself and your Mother. God Bless.

Through My Mother's Eyes
By Martha Larche Lusk This article was a beautiful message to all. In my case, I am in a position to relate to the emotions and feelings of this writer, for I am a caregiver of a bed fast husband that will be 81 this month. I turned 81 this past May of 2015. Our son is caring for us financially in order for us to continue being here in the home. We are what some would turn broke, but not broke enough to have necessary needed assistance from outside the family. That letter could well have been written by me. I could relate to it so well. Thank you for sharing. joylee