My sister and I pull into the driveway and back out so as not to block other cars needing exit space. Ms POA and one of the soon-to-be identified CNAs apparently walk back into the house and lock the door. We come up the driveway and I ring the doorbell. My sister indicates to me that sometimes it does not work...I knock on the metal security gate and I hear Ms POA scream that she is coming from inside the house. She greets me with her falsetto tone and cheery upbeat attitude. (I want to scream back at her that I am tired and utterly frustrated with her conniving and triflin' ways, but I refrain.)
She is so happy because she has a special treat that she has purchased in my honor (no doubt). Of course, my mother was to have been "free" following her return from the secret placed where she is ensconced periodically. But now we are having this wonderful get together for catfish, cole slaw and potato salad. We have to wait though as another party is yet to arrive. (why, I think this was a recent Days of Our Lives drama presentation) The excitement and drama around the fish and fixins' is overwhelming somewhat for my mother. I just want to catch up with her for a minute and hear her side of her Life as Presented by Ms POA and Assoc.
But I am treated instead to a soliloquy about the travails of obtaining this catfish and how it had better be a drastic improvement over last week and how next week it would be a different kind of fish because they are having a special and Mama should sit down and eat the catfish before it gets cold even if she is not hungry because she just finished eating a snack or a meal sometime ago at the place where she is kept during the day so that we can't poison her mind with thoughts of freedom and dignity.
The abuse crew (AC) starts to bombard my mother with petitions to sit down and eat. I think it was implied that she should be grateful that they had gone to all this trouble to get this for her. Let's review this now. CNA on staff and her main job is to hold the TV remote and find creative non-bruise like ways to emotional harangue my mother. They watch the most mind-numbing TV shows and basically disregard my mother as much as they possibly can, with the exception of following Ms POAs torture orders to a "T". Here is an example. My sister's quasi-DP is finally here with the cole slaw. Could not quite put that together until later with some breathing room. She was there for backup - a just-in-case something goes down kind of ally.
The AC could not get Mama to touch any of the food they had brought. She was visibly upset by all the chaos and confusion around her and then they attempt to force feed her some prescribed medication (not from the container) during this moment of total distress. There was some meltdown and some harsh words spoken by the Silken Tongued Vixen. It always amazes me when I hear my mother slip into vernacular (she was such a proponent of the QE, that I had to sniggle a wee bit) and give these folks a piece of her still quite intact, but obfuscated mind.
It was over quickly though. Mama just usually wants someone to listen to her - call it validation or something like that. Talk with her rather than talk to her like a small dependent child. Talk with her about her life rather than talk around her about her condition. She knows about her lapses and does not need to have constant reminders about her increasing inabilities. I tend to think of focusing on her strengths rather than her deficits.
Anyway more drama to continue later. Just think of PAS (Parental Alienation Syndrome) and you will have a wonderful front seat to observe the ongoing follies as the AC struggle to maintain control of an issue beyond their capacities. They are thinking that Dorothy is still in Kansas before the cyclone and the storm they have not prepared for makes Katrina look like a summer rain shower.
Unleash the hounds.
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