Doctors are still considering on having a tube put into Mother's nose or stomach because she just isn't eating or getting the needed nutrients.  I don't know if it is because all of the medication she's on or what, but Mother's appetite has all but disappered: it is an ongoing battle with no end in sight.

I try to remain positive, but when I get bad news upon bad news from the doctors or caretakers at the Home, it's hard to see any hope or silver lining in their words of woe.

Thank God I have my family (or my job) to go to when things get too extreme; yet Mother never remains far from my mind.  I remember the woman she was: smelling like lavendar or roses, laughing uproariously at a good joke, telling us her life story or about how things were when she was a child, making the best home-made cookies or chicken cacciatore.  She took pride in her family and home, and there was nothing more she enjoyed than sharing her heritage with the neighbors (or friends).

Mother was a regular church goer: every Sunday you'd find her at Mass.  Ever since she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, she no longer went; I am sure Father Williams thinks she must have died by now.  I wonder if her friends even think of her; they certainly don't call to ask how things are going.

When I do run into one of Mother's friends, I tell them the truth, then I feel guilty because I kept the information about her health from her.  I know some of her friends must be mad or d isappointed in me.

I don't know what the day will bring: more news from the doctors or the caretakers, more people asking about her, or what, or even more medical bills, but one thing is for certain: Alzheimer's disease is a bitch.  It not only affects the person: it also affects the entire family; we ALL suffer.

~To be continued.~