Sundowning

I don't know why, but I've been pretty exhausted lately. I think it's a mixture of getting used to waking up early everyday and allergies. It is probably also because I am spending a lot of time at a slower pace of life, less active and less energetic overall. I'm morphing into Grammy.

It's called Sundowning. The term is used regularly in Alzheimer's care. It refers to the anxiety attacks that persons with Alzheimer's experience as it gets dark outside. To me it makes sense that this feeling would come on strongly at twilight. While I was in college I would get very tired and cranky around 5pm in the winter months. I would have to have a cup of coffee or zone out for a bit before I could resume working on stuff (which I would normally try to do for another 6 hours or so). I learned after a couple of years that classes after 5 pm were like torture. It's definitely more of an issue in the winter months than the summer months. In the summer it gets dark and you get to go to bed.

Grammy has fairly regular late afternoon-evening anxiety "attacks". I put attacks in "" because it's not a full-blown melt down. She just seems troubled and will say that she has "that feeling" and that she needs to walk around or get fresh air. Yesterday when it happened I caught her as she was putting on her coat to go outside for a walk. I asked her if I could walk with her and we just went down the street and back and she seemed to feel better. Today she seemed more troubled and she said she was going to walk over to Sue's. I know that since we got here she has gone to Sue to ask for an afternoon anxiety pill, rather than ask me or just take it at home. I figure this isn't really a problem as long as it works for her.

It's funny that the Alzheimer's books said that the person might shadow you. They warn against getting annoyed that they are following you everywhere during the day as you complete basic tasks. Grammy and I have the exact opposite system going on. She would never follow me if I leave the room-- unless I'm going to the kitchen to cook something, then she'll come to see if she can help. It's more like she will go to the kitchen, go upstairs, go outside and I will follow her constantly. If I don't see her within 10 minutes when she's out of my sight, I go find her and make sure she's doing ok. If she steps a foot outside I make sure I'm going with her or know that she's just going over to Sue's. Before I got here, she spent a decent amount of time alone, so rationally I know that she'll probably be okay without my constant supervision. I just wonder if it annoys her, as much as I'm supposed to be annoyed, when I'm always shadowing her. If she does, she doesn't show it. If she does, then tough shit because that's my job.

Sometimes I wish I could just record what Grammy says because it's either funny, out of the ordinary or deep with some memory. Here is a list of things that she said today that I jotted down:

--In the morning we were watching the Today Show and there was a commercial for Crazy Bruce's Liquors and Grammy instantly perks up and says "Your mother used to love that guy!" Hahaha.

--We were watching Good Morning America and they had a stylist named Brad on to talk about the dresses of the SAG awards from last night. Right before they went to commercial after his segment Grammy said, "He has a gay little sound, that guy." I was like, "Well, that's because he is gay." Then we discussed homosexuality a little bit. I'm always impressed that she is so open minded after being raised in the time she was and under so much Catholic teachings. She told me a somewhat segmented story about a time that she had come home from work (she couldn't distinguish where, she kept on saying here, which is possible) and she found a boy crying by the door. She said he was old enough that she wanted to call his mother, but not so young that she had to. She said that she never told anyone about it, that he was just crying and really sad, but not physically hurt. She talked to him for a bit and I guess he just went away. She says that now she thinks that he may have been gay and dealing with that. I don't know why she thinks that, but I thought it was a fascinating piece of a story for her to remember.

--It is ridiculously cute how she says 'poopie'. I can't describe it, but maybe it's because I never heard her say it before. Now she says it about the cat's litter box, or if there is a poopie smell in the bathroom after she uses it. It's really cute, I need to record it.

--We were sitting in the kitchen together, waiting for dinner to cook, and I started really looking at the oven. I take for granted that it looks so normal in my grandmother's house, but if I try to look at it objectively, that is one oolllddd oven. I asked her if it was there when she moved in (in 1979) and she said that it hasn't been changed (not sure if that's the case, but seems plausible). I joked with her how I was just imagining how, sometime in the far future, when a new family moves into the house they are going to look at the stove and be like, omg when is that from?! And she laughed and I swear she said that they would be like "What's this shit?" I nearly fell over. My grandmother does NOT swear. The best part is that the radio or the steam from the stovetop or something got really loud right as she said it as if they were bleeping her out. It was pretty funny.

--On a much more serious/sad note, she sat down after dinner and looked upset and started to talk about how she doesn't feel like she's at home in her own home anymore. She said it feels like she's just getting to know the house for the first time, even though she knows that she has lived here so long. I asked her if she thought it felt different or new because Sol and I moved in. She said that it's not that because the house hasn't really changed since we've moved in (which is true, we haven't left too much of a dent). She made it sound more like it was the result of her memory loss, that everything seems foreign or new to her.