Mom's Daily Routine with Lewy

I've learned a great deal over the last few months about Lewy Bodies Dementia, it is peculiar.  It appears on the surface to be Alzheimers, but what makes it different is that it comes with hallucinations about people, moving walls, extra animals and wild animals. 

Early on, the person who is destined for LBD is diagnosed with Parkinsonism, it goes with the illness.  The shakes, the tremors and the stiffness.

Sleep walking too, narcolepsy symptoms, these are all part of Lewy Bodies Dementia. 

It's pretty scary for the care giver.  When you are first confronted with it you are left wondering what the hell you are supposed to do.  But somehow, we always seem to know what to do. 

I am grateful that I trust in my Godself, my Higher Self, my Golden Angel inside, to guide me through whatever it is I'm going through.  She helps a lot.

From what I've learned, Lewy Bodies is the most misdiagnosed form of dementia, it's usually diagnosed as Alzheimers.  The misdiagnosed patients are given pyschotic drugs and they get worse.  They do not react well to the same meds as those folks who have Alzheimers.  With Alzheimers you can live a long time and just not remember.  You don't have hallucinations or poor vision.

How do you know if it's Lewy Bodies Dementia or Alzheimers? 

A symptom of LBD is hallucinations about the environment (for example, my mom sees moving walls, dark floors that are a big hole that she's affraid that she'll fall into) or people like "the man" or wild animals. 

From what I understand about the disease, Lewy bodies are protein tangles that break off and form a mass around them.  I read somewhere that the mass that forms around the protein tangle is the bodies mechanism to try and protect the body from the intruder.  It eventually eats up the brain.  My mom takes Choline to replace what the Lewy's are eating.  I think this is why she appears to be improving.

It affects brain tissue and the person declines fast. 

They will have trouble with their vision (my mom sees double these days) and often the patient will keep their eyes closed.  They just can't seem to open them.  My mom has times like this when she sits with her eyes shut.  She's been using NAC drops in her eyes.  It's only been a short time so the verdict is still out on whether they work or not. 

She's got cataracts.  We hate to run the risk of her LBD getting worse if she goes through a procedure to have the cataract removed.  I'm really hoping the drops work.

However, since she started to take Choline in the morning she appears to be improving.

Every morning we have the same routine.

One of us wakes first, sometimes it's me, sometimes it's my mom.

She takes her supplements:  coq10, Ashwagandha - 8 drops in a shot glass of water, Magnesium, Calcium, Vitamin D3, Cognifactor, Fish Oil, Cardio HNT, 10 mg Lisinopril

Check blood sugar and blood pressure, record the results.

For breakfast I always give her some sort of protein like yogurt, an egg, a little cottage cheese along with her fruit and her Choline drink, which she absolutely loves. 

She sometimes has a celery stick with fresh ground organic peanut butter.  Celery helps with constipation trouble that is so prevalent with LBD patients.  It seems to take about 4 hours for the celery to do it's job.  Absolutely amazing!

The Naturopath prescribed a serving of berries every day, so I make her drink of Choline with frozen blueberries. 

My days are spent asking her if she had used the toilet or how she is feeling. 

Sometimes she has stomach cramps.  Pain seems to bring out the Lewy Bodies Dementia symptoms.  Constipation brings them out too.

Lunch and dinner she gets 6 capsules of Seacure, 12 a day.  It's helping to feed her brain.

We usually get out and walk around or I get her on the treadmill.  On really good days, I get her on the Wii Fit Balance game. 

Bed time she has one Cardio HNT and one 10 mg Lisinopril, along with a shot of Ashwagandha and a 3mg of Melatonin.

So far so good. 

As long as she stays away from wheat, rye barley, oats, rice, eggplant and all baked goods with baking soda or powder, life is pretty darn awesome for her.

Things appear stable.
I'm treading in unknown territory.  Every single day.  I have no fucking idea if I'm doing it right or not, I find myself just letting it all go and just doing what feels right.  It's working.

In a way I'm happy that I have no idea what's ahead for us.  Maybe if I knew I'd be worried about it and wouldn't keep looking for different solutions, ones that come without side effects.  Those side effects are horrible. 

Care giving is hard, very hard.  However, I wouldn't have it any other way.  I don't care if people think I'm nuts to keep my mom home.  I do know that LBD is a different mental illness and those who get to stay home in familiar surroundings do better than those who go to a nursing home. 

Our routine may change because as the disease progresses her needs will change, maybe not.  I don't know.  I haven't found anyone else doing what I'm doing with my mom so I have nothing to compare it to.  It's the main reason I write this blog.  For the purpose of documenting so that someone else may give it a try and have success.  Who knows, this could be a new solution to a very nasty problem?

I'm hopeful that what I'm learning will help the rest of my family for generations to come, to avoid Lewy Bodies Dementia.  I've been reading that it's brought on by poor nutrition and or blows to the head.  All the boxed and proccess shit on the supermarket shelves, all the wheat... all of it is poison to our systems. 

Lots of boxers get LBD too.  Which tells you that fighting is totally stupid.

Yes, my mom is dying and I'm OK with it. 

From what I've been reading on support groups and in others blog posts about their caregiving experiences, my mom won't get better. 

I am refusing to believe it.

The natural remedies they appear to be improving.  I'm holding out hope, why not?

My only desire for my mom, the vision I hold, is that she has as many good days as possible, leaving the not so good days few and far between.

I believe that the natural remedies and organic diet are keys to her success  to living with the debilatating disease, Lewy Bodies Dementia.

Every day I learn something new about myself through my mom.  She's a blessing in so many ways.  I'm grateful to have this time with her and the ability to document our journey.

The Door Has Now Closed!

Since I began my blog, which my husband recommended that I do to help me through the care giving nightmares, he has not read my blog. 

Not one post!

My husband, he's an incredible writer.  I LOVE how he writes.  He has a vocabulary like NO ONE that I've ever met, ever.  He's wicked smart as we say up here in Boston. 

He's one of those people with a huge skull that holds lots of brain matter.  I love my genius.  Shit, he was smart enough to marry me, Susie Sunshine!  But, how smart could he be?  He would NOT read my blog.

I asked him once.  I said, "Sweetie, will you read my blog?"  He said, "No, when you write 100 posts, I'll read it."

He must not have thought I would stick with it.  (Note to Sweetie, because I know that now that you are forbidden to read it and you are reading it, am I right?")

Anyway, I have been writing my entire life.  I have my friend and pen pal from Hawaii to thank for my learning how to express myself in words.  I love to write.  LOVE IT.  If I could make money writing for a living, I would.  I will be a paid writer one day. It's my dream and dreams are meant to be created!

So, here I am well over 200 posts and I ask again... "Sweetie, I have 200 + posts now, will you read it?"

He didn't want to read it!  My private thoughts that I was making public, he didn't want to read?  I love this man o'mine.  He felt like he was reading my diary.  Geez.  I let the entire world read my blog and you think it's private?

Ok... don't get mad.  Remember that I love you AND IF YOU ARE READING THIS, you shouldn't be because I banned you from reading it.  You said yourself, "What?  The door has closed?"

Yup... unless of course I finally got my way and you are a reader of my blog.  

So?  How is it?  Have I captured the insanity and the fun?

My husband, I love his guts!

My Outting with Ma

Everyday I like to take my mom out for a short ride in the truck.  Some days I have more than one errand to run, other days, I have no special plans, we just go out for a ride.

My mom's been wanting to go to the bank for weeks so that she could check on her money.  It's not much money, about a thousand bucks but to her it's a lot.

Yesterday, I took her to the bank and it was closed for the holiday.  I finally get her to the bank and it's CLOSED!

Today, I wrote out her checks to pay her bills and then we went to the bank so that she could ask her important questions to the teller.  I didn't know what the questions were.

I too had some banking to do so when I got inside the bank, I walked over to a counter to write out the slips.

I thought my mom was standing next to me.

Next thing I know I hear her little soft voice, stumbling over her words, asking the teller something.  I hear the teller say something, she was polite, she had no idea what my mom was talking about.

Oh boy... I better rush over and interpret.

My mom sees me next to her and she says, "Oh Good... can you tell her?"

I had no idea what she wanted so I guessed.  I am not sure if it was the right guess or it sounded good to my mother, but it appeased my mom.

I helped her write out a check and then we got the woman to print out a current statement.  My mom was happy until she looked at the paper and said, "But I can't read this!"

I assured her that everything was in order.  She seemed ok with it all.  She has money in her pocketbook and her bills were mailed at the post office.

Success.  We made it through another day.  Rachel's laundry is all done, she blessed me and my mom got to the bank.

The Laundry Room

Moving my mom upstairs to the Master Bedroom has been great for her, my husband and me. 

There's always been one problem with the laundry room, it's attached to the bedroom that's downstairs. 

When my mom was living in the room, I had her do all of my laundry, she loved doing the laundry.  My mom likes my mother in law so she never had a problem having her use the machines.

My personal problem has been a lack of privacy for my husband and me.  When we had the Master Bedroom upstairs, I would always have to walk by my mother in law when I wanted to go and do something.  It felt like I was being watched all the time.  It was oppressive and contributed to my unhappiness with where I was living. 

I cried a lot during my first year and a half of marriage.  Not because I was sad that I married my husband, it is the opposite, I am psyched to have found my best friend and married him. 

It would be so nice to do things that newly weds get to do together, but like my husband says, "We started our marriage backward, it will only get better from here."

I love his optimism.  I believe him.

A new life began for us on April 11, 2008.  Our lives had changed forever.  Heck, I changed my name, what did I expect? 

When I moved in we brought along my brother Ed's combo washer drier.  An awesome machine that was made in Italy.  My mom, she loves that machine and insisted on having it installed.  It was sort of a way for her to hold on to a part of my brother.  He passed away in a white water rafting accident back in June 2001.  Today is his birthday, he would have been 53.

Knowing the importance of the washer, I wanted to have it installed in the garage.  I had forseen trouble with the laundry.

But, when I raised the idea when we first moved in the shit hit the fan.  My mother-in-law still believed that she was the woman of the house and my mom and I were the intruders.  She was pretty bossy.  Part of the problem was asking her what she thought, something my husband did as a courtesy of some kind.  All it did was empower her in to believing that she was the queen of the roost. 

How did this happen?

Part of the challenge of getting married for the first time at 48 is that I have proven to myself that I can take care of myself.  I bought a house.  Had great jobs.  Fine cloths.  Travelled.  Drank really fine wine.  I loved the life that I had created for myself.  The house that I left behind was my bit of Heaven on Earth.  It was that for both my mom and me.

My gardens, well they were spectacular.  The sun, the paths out and around the pond, the silence.  It was great.  Even the damn woodchucks amused me at times, like when they had the balls to stand up on their hind legs and screech at me.  Great memories were born in that house, it was a house where my family visited often.  I miss that the most now, the family visits.

So, today my mother in law wants to do her laundry.  She needs to go through our personal space, our sanctuary, our only space in the house where only we spend time.  This is really important to me, my private space with my husband.  In my house, I had lots of little places to retreat, here I have one place and today it runs the risk of being taken away.

All night I was awake, thinking about the laundry room.  My hot flashes were intense.  I know it was because I am stressing over the thought of losing my sanctuary.  Rehearsing in my mind what I will say to my mother in law, how I'll say it, when I'll say it. 

I worked myself up into a frenzy.

My solution is that I'll do her laundry.  No big deal for me.  Like my mom, I love doing laundry.  I love seeing how clean I can get the cloths, if I can get stains out of fabric and if I can get the cloths out of the drier before the cloths wrinkle.

I purposely don't allow my mom to do the laundry anymore.  I do her laundry.  I need to retain our private place, our sanctuary where only our energy resides.  The place where we know it's just for us.  Is this asking too much?

I'm still not 100% sure how I'll approach the subject of the laundry room.  I will talk to her from my heart so that she understands why it's important for me and my husband to have our own space in the house where no one else goes. 

After all, she does have the full use of 3 rooms upstairs and has her stuff in.  She has pretty much all the closet space upstairs so I can't leave my extra rolls of paper towels in them.  I need to leave my supplies in the garage.  A royal pain in the ass when I'm cooking and use the last paper towel. 

I know that little things can build up and it's always best to face them head on before a blow out.  I learned this lesson.  Most recently with my sister.  Oh, I wish I talked to her years ago about the little things.  I'm sure we could have worked everything out so that we'd still be communicating today.  One day when my life settles down from all my care giving, I'll call her and see if we can make amends. 

Now, I find myself defending my personal space, my sanctuary, the Laundry Room.

++++++++++++++ Personal Space Problem - Solved! +++++++++++++

All morning I felt like I was going to pewk.  Just thinking about talking to my mother in law about the laundry was turning my stomach. 

Confronting my fear head on, I approach her and say, "You know how you are going to do your laundry today?  I've been up all night worried about it."

She turned whiter than she already is normally. 

I continued...

"I love you.  I want to do your laundry.  The reason is because it's the only place in the house where Brian and I have our privacy, it's our place.  It's the reason that when we first moved in that I wanted to set up the laundry in the garage, a common area for everyone." 

She totally understood.  She didn't want to give me more work by having me do her laundry.  Now she realizes that it's not more work, it's something that I enjoy doing, laundry. 

I'm relieved.  The nausea is gone.

Her first batch of laundry is in the machine.

Now my new problem to solve is what do I make the girls and me for lunch?

The Back Seat

For months, when I take the moms out with me in the truck or car, they seem to "fight" in a polite manner about sitting in the back.  No one wants to sit in front with me.  I found myself wondering if I smelled bad.

I did start to have a minor complex forming, every time, when the 2 of them come out with me, it's always the same.

Today was no different, I was in the truck, engine on, both moms were standing outside the truck.  All I could hear is, "No, you sit in the front."  "No, you."  Back and forth this went.

Finally after what seemed like an hour but was probably more like 20 seconds I said, "Will you guys just get in the truck?  This bus is leaving the station."

My mom got in back, my mom-in-law, she hops in the front. 

Then it dawned on me why my mom wants the back seat all the time... I don't enforce the back seat belt rule as much as I do with passengers in the front.

A Sue-prize!!!

Yesterday was a great day all around. 

My mom had a great night sleep and her day was one that was filled with laughter and clarity.  It was awesome to have a pretty normal day with my mom.

We went to Whole Foods to pick up a few grocery items, one of my former colleagues and good friends was in town on business and she was coming over for a visit.

Jo is my friend who bought me a cookbook for my birthday this year that has helped me to make fabulous meals for my family, meals that even my mom enjoys. 

Lewy Bodies seems to screw with taste buds, never knowing when my mom's dish will be returned to the kitchen with the food moved around like she ate it.  You know, that old trick we played when we were kids?  She hasn't started to stuff food in an empty milk carton, not yet anyway.  Do you think I should make her eat it like the nuns used to do to kids who stuffed their lunch into their empty milk carton?

Any-hoo...

It was great to see Jo, we had a fab time.  I think we drank 4 bottles of wine between the 2 of us!  I haven't officially made the bottle count of empties.  It was good wine.  I woke up feeling fine.  No hang over.  Yay!

I've been wishing and visualizing a break.  I've been being specific with what I want as an end result, not thinking about the HOW just believing.  My visualization was to have someone cook dinner for me.  Well, last night, Jo gave me a big SUE-PRIZE... she cooked for me!  It was an out of the blue visit.  I let the Universe do it's thing and viola, dinner was cooked for me!

It was so much fun.  Cooking and drinking wine.  Chatting.  Getting caught up.  Laughing and laughing. 

Last night was a blast.  Jo crashed on the sofa and left early so that she could get ready for her day of meetings. 

Thanks Jo.  Thank you for just being YOU.  I feel like I had a wee vacation.

No More Eggplant, PLEASE!

I've noticed that when my mom eats something that doesn't agree with her Lewy Bodies, we have a crazy day.  A day filled with confusion, moving walls, wild animals, extra cats and a very soft spoken voice that is usually inaudible.

Several posts ago I had written about the Deadly Nightshade Family of plants and how their's something in it that aggravates dementia.  You can read the post here if you are interested:  My Post about Deadly Nightshade plants and dementia episodes

On Sunday, I made Eggplant rolls, gluten free.  I left the skin on the eggplant because when the slices are grilled, it helps to hold the eggplant piece together.  Everyone enjoyed this dish, especially my mother and mother-in-law.

Sunday night, my mom had disturbed sleep.  She was up at 10p walking around in her sleep and again at 4 and 6 am.  She was pointing to the pillows on her bed, telling me that it was the man... damn, the man was back too.

Not on much sleep, I needed to make the best of this day.  I know from experience that I need to be calm and upbeat.  Genuinely upbeat or my mom would see right through my facade. 

How'd I do?

Well, I failed miserably.

I had an appointment with my doctor because I'm not feeling well.  Something isn't right.  It's better to have this sort of thing checked out, so many times I read about the care giver dying before the patient.  Personally, it's not a fate I chose to embrace.

My appointment was for 1:10pm.  The doctor squeezed me in to her schedule. I was anxious for days, waitng to see her.

I made the moms and myself a new dish that I had invented, warmed asparagus salad with pine nuts.  It came out really great.  Delicious. 

My mom, she was a bit out of sorts.  Definitely not a good day for her.

Leaving an hour and 20 minutes to arrive at my appointment, off my mom and I go to my doctor with a 45 minute drive ahead of us.

We're moving right along, heading for the highway... we come to the overpass and I see TRAFFIC.  Dead stopped traffic at 12 in the afternoon!  My mom started saying, "Gee, all these people are going out to lunch at the same time, how crazy!"  I laughed.

I began to sweat because the clock was ticking.  Not being a very good natural geographer, even if I did get my under grad degree in Geography, I turned to the navigation system in my truck.  I instruct it to find us an alternate route. 

The truck had us follow the highway, on back roads, twisting and turning through residential neighborhoods, we were heading up and down streets that I never knew existed.

My mom was enjoying the ride, it was an incredible 70 degree November day in New England... beautiful.

Oh, I am definitely going to be late for my appointment.  I reach in my purse for my cellphone and much to my chagrin, the damn phone battery is dead.  I can't call and let the office know that I was stuck in traffic.  Damn!

20 minutes late we arrive... just as the receptionist is putting me in as a no-show.  I said to her, "I'm here.  I showed.  I was stuck in a really bad traffic jam.  I had to travel a long distance to get here."

The receptionist was not very good at her job. 

I started to cry when she told me to reschedule and I couldn't see the doctor until sometime in December!  December?  Are you kidding me?  I swear to God we have the worst healthcare system in the world when I have to wait so long to see a doctor.

The woman tells me to have a seat and she'd check to see if the doctor could see me today.  I waited 30 minutes.  Occassionally getting called to the receptionist window.  I totally broke down bawling my eyes out in the doctors office when the receptionist said to me, "Oh, I don't know what to do!"  I said, "Neither do I, isn't that what you get paid for, to KNOW what to do?"

Of course my crying was making her nervous.  Some guy was in the waiting room, obviously waiting for his girlfriend or wife.  I didn't care.  The Boo Hoo train had left the station and those tears were coming out.

My poor little demented mother, she sat quietly, looking around at the ceiling and then at me.  Wanting to talk to me but not knowing what to say.  I knew my crying was upsetting her.  She had no idea until yesterday that I have been worried about my own health.  Well, she knows now.

I cried all the way home and more when I got home.

I had no doctors appointment lined up.  The receptionist couldn't handle it.  After making me wait for 30 minutes in the waiting room, I got up and left.  I asked them to call with an appointment when they knew how to schedule one for me.

I did finally calm down after a cup of Nettle tea and my own personal time out.  My mom totally understood this and was fine watching Dr. Oz while she drank a cup of ginger tea.

Calling the doctor's office I was able to reach a nurse who knew what was going on.  I am seeing the doctor on Friday, hopefully if she doesn't have an emergency to rush off to. 

In any event, I'm sure I'll be OK and my mom too... as long as I don't give her any eggplant.

Lewy's Visit

We were doing so well for so many nights in a row.  My mom was sleeping through the night and was waking up in a happy mood.

Today however, she kept waking up and walking around on the squeaky floors above my bedroom.  At one point she was walking around with stockings on her feet and no shoes, a recipe for a fall.

I jumped out of bed at 4am.  I rushed up the stairs as quietly as I could in order not to disturb Brian. 

On my way up the stairs I hear my mom shouting loudly, "HELLO!  HELLO!  HELLO!"

I begin to let out soft and firm "shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!' .... my mom, she just said her HELLO louder.

I turn the corner into the kitchen and there she is fully dressed at 4am.  She is now talking at full voice, "Where did everyone go?  I can't find anyone."

"Ma, everyone is sleeping.  Please lower your voice.  Shhhh!  Come on, let's go back to bed."

She gets to her room, confused, thinking that she doesn't live here.  I assure her that she's in her home.

She was worried about the children in the house taking her pills.  She kept asking me if the pills were safe.  I told her that there are no children in the house and all of her things are safe.

Mom puts her nightgown back on and I tuck her in.

6am

Squeak, Squeak... barefeet heading for the sunroom, the place where she had fallen just last week. 

I rush up the stairs again, my mom is argumentative.  She is in a nasty mood. 

Again, I get her to lay back down.  I put on the news, it's all that's on TV and I head back to my bed to see if I can get a little more sleep.  I know how cranky I can be if I'm not rested.

I wasn't able to sleep.  Damn it!

Checked my mom's numbers and set her up with her supplements and pills.  Her blood sugar was 90, very good.  Blood pressure was a little high, but not outrageous, it was pretty good.

I made coffee and brought her a cup. 

I noticed a bag that she had packed with random things.  Shit!  We're back to the random bag packing.  She doesn't think she lives here and believes that she's going home.  My mom, she's confused in a big way today. 

What was the trigger that brought Lewy back?

Is it Uncle Al?  He calls her at least 2 times a day, telling her that he's coming to pick her up so that they can go out.  Uncle Al is in a nursing home, he's just as delusional as my mom these days.

Was it the call she got from Marty on Saturday?  I think she's worrying about him.

Or, was it the eggplant parmesean that I made for dinner last night?  I had stopped giving her any eggplant, tomatoes, potatoes and peppers for awhile after I had read that plants of the deadly nightshade variety cause problems with people who have dementia.

I'm bucking up and hoping that I'm prepared for whatever Lewy brings today.  I am going to the doctor today for a check up, hope my mom can sit quietly in the waiting room while the doctor does her thing.

Time will only tell.

I still think Lewy sucks big donkey (you know what!)

Constipation Got You Down?

My mom, she's got Lewy Bodies in her brain.  It is a very peculiar disease.  At times, it feels like we are on a roller coaster ride, making stomach turning dips and living on the edge. 

Then, there are days where things seem normal and calm.

What I have noticed is since my mom started to take the natural remedies and supplements that the Naturopath has prescribed, her bad days are what her good days used to be like. 

All in all, my mom is doing great.  She's happy.  She is sleeping at night and her appetite is pretty good.  As a result, everyone in our house is sleeping at night allowing all of us to have happier days.  Yay!

Being on the supplements and with the addition of daily Reiki and Hypnosis sessions, my mom doesn't have those mood swings where she hates my guts and the problems of the world around her are my fault. 

Today, my mom knows who I am.  She has known me since she began taking Ashwagandha 2 times a day, once in the morning and once at night.

I was greeted with a happy GOOD MORNING!  Oh, music to my ears and heart.

Her blood sugar was 105, but she forgot to brush her teeth last night and I was so tired, I forgot to remind her. 

Her blood pressure was lower than it's been in years, 126/63.  Our ND prescribed a natural blood pressure supplement, it is working great.  I hope she can soon get off  the only pharma med that she's on, Lisinopril, it's not good for her kidneys.

I've noticed that when my mom is constipated, her memory isn't as good as it is when she's had a movement.  Lately, I find my days being consummed with trying to solve my mom's bowel problem. 

I still can't believe I can talk about this subject with out gagging.  In years past, my nephews would gather up their little friends and then say stuff that would make me gag.  Oh the talk of maggots and poop and all things stinky, coupled with my over active imagination, gave the boys hours of fun with poor ole' Auntie Sue dry heaving. 

Now that I can talk about constipation and all things stinky with out gagging, watermelon has worked great for my mom, but winter is approaching and it's very difficult to get watermelon.  If I can find it, it has no taste and worse, it's got a #3 food sticker on it telling me that it's been genetically altered.

Yesterday I took the mom's out to a discount store and was looking through cookbooks when I picked up a book by the Heller's, both doctors.  In the book they covered a topic about constipation.  They stated that you don't need pills or fancy drinks, all you need to do is eat 2 celery stalks and the stools will come shooting out of you.

Hmmmm... I wonder if it will work for my mom, I thought to myself.  I bought the book for .98 cents so that I could read other great tips that the doctors may have for me.

So... we get home and my mom is complaining about her needing to get her bowels moving.  I remember about the celery.  I tell her about it and she says, "bring me some celery!" 

It works.

Constipation got the best of you or a loved one?  Take 2 celery stalks and you will be sitting on your throne in no time.

Who are we... really?

Have you ever stopped and thought about who you are and why you are where you are in life? 

Have you ever wondered what your life would have been like if you made other choices? 

How would it have effected the people in your life? 

How would it have affected you?  Would you be different?

Or are we all here and in our situations because of Karma?  Is Karma responsible for molding us and who we are?

The definition of Karma from Dictionary.com:

Dictionary: kar·ma (kär'mə)




1.Hinduism & Buddhism. The total effect of a person's actions and conduct during the successive phases of the person's existence, regarded as determining the person's destiny.


2.Fate; destiny.


3.Informal. A distinctive aura, atmosphere, or feeling: There's bad karma around the house today.


[Sanskrit, deed, action that has consequences, karma.]



karmic kar'mic (-mĭk) adj.

I do believe in Karma, but I believe that the human spirit within me is the one with the "last" say over who and what we believe we are in this life.  I believe in past lives and the actions and deeds that we did in our other lives, carry over to this lifetime. 

Being excellent to everyone really does work to change the tides of Karma.  It's how we react that gives us good Karma points or bad points.  It's totally up to us to continue over the same tracks or blaze a new trail down Karma Road.  We can do this because we have free will.  We can break the cycles that keep us stuck, we can do it now.  The only thing holding you back is you.

Past life Regression with a trained Clinical Hypnotherapist can provide answers while helping you to figure out some of the "why" questions you may have formed in your mind.

I've done past life regression.  I had learned that I was a nun in several lifetimes, in both France and Italy, always taking a vow to love God and denounce worldly possessions.  One thing that I have learned is that once our souls take a vow, it becomes part of our souls cloth. 

Vows can almost be like a stain on a piece of cloth that is nearly impossible to extract.  I wanted answers.  I wanted to know why and who I am.  Searching ... Vows, Karma, and all the who's and why's for so many years, I began to realize that it is all about LOVE.  Love can clean the stains that vows put on our souls cloth.

Vows that our souls take at any point in time, know no boundaries between lifetimes.  A vow is a vow. 

Vows of poverty, chastity... all the insanely stupid vows that we believed at one time would make God favor us more over another, were stupid.

Personally, my life has been challenged by the vows that I had taken during other existences.  I did grow up in a financially challenged household.  I think I even dip my toe in the martyrdom pool on occassion, which is really sinful if you want to put a label on it.  

But, the one element of life that I believe has saved me from another lifetime of poverty is love.  I learned love.  I learned from my parents that love will move mountains, family love moves continents.

Everyday I think about my actions.  Somedays I'm not very good at stopping the moving locamotive that is me, who is traveling on the wrong side of the tracks, but I forgive myself and look for ways to make things right in my Universe.

Is it my Karma to care for my mom?  Did I make a vow or promise to her on a soul level that needs to be played out? Or do I care for my mom just because I love her, just like she always has loved me?

I did go to a Catholic School, thanks to my Aunt Jay.  It was in Catholic School that I learned how screwed up the Catholic Religion is... they scared me (still do - the religion appears to be a bit cultish to me.) 

The long habits with the big long rosary beds hitting the floor as the nuns walked down the school halls, freaked me out so much that I would go home from school and eat and eat and eat. 

The nuns in my school used to on occassion make us all put our heads on our desks and then asked those who wanted to be nuns and priests to raise their hands. 

Years later, when I did a past life regression and learned about my many lives as nuns, I understood why I was probably one of the few kids who DID NOT raise her hand.  That and the nuns were so damn scary I couldn't imagine being one, not even for Halloween as my brother Ed's girlfriend Rita (pictured) did so many years ago.

Be a nun?  Are you crazy?  Are you slipping into a dementia state?

All I knew is being a nun meant, none of this and none of that... FORGET IT!  This lifetime, I vowed to get it right and live the fun life where the sky is the limit.  No limitations, except for the ones that I put on myself.

So far, so good.  My life has been awesome.  I've travelled, had a great career, learn whatever I want to learn, I dream, I love and just do things for others from my heart because it allows that other person to see a part of themselves in me.  We are all connected, each of us and we all have the power with in us to achieve greatness in all that we do. 

If you believe you can, you can!

Love is all that matters.  Love from the heart and your world will transform.

Parking Lot Scammer in Andover

Have you ever been scammed in a parking lot? 

I NEVER have been until today.  I really still can't believe this insane lady was screaming in a parking lot of Whole Foods, stating that I hit her car.

Huh?  I never felt that I hit anything.  I was careful.  I use all the mirrors on my truck.  No Way.  I didn't hit her.

I did hear a horn tooting after I had pulled out of the spot that I was parked in.  Never felt any contact with another object, definitely not a car or mini van as is the case here.

Here's how the scene played out.

My mom was with me, I suggested she stay in the truck and listen to her music.  She loves her little Sony mp3 player. 

I get the few things that I had run out of and would need to make dinner.  I check out at the register, have the bagger use my reusable shopping bags and I'm on my merry way.

I load up the truck with my few bags and return the cart to the front of the store.  After all, I wouldn't want to be an asshole and have it hit someone's car or block a good parking spot.  It's the decent thing to do, to return ones cart... so I did.

My mom was sitting happily, listening to her music with her little plugs in her ears.  I look in all my mirrors, turn and check to make sure no one is walking behind me or worse, pulling out behind me.  Coast was clear.

I slowly back my Tacoma pickup (similar to the one shown above) out of the spot that I had been parked.  I hear tooting, after I'm already out of the spot, stopped and turning my wheel to move forward.

All of a sudden, this blonde woman with a beat up mini-van jumps out of her van screaming.  She was screaming about someone hitting her car.  I knew it wasn't me, I didn't feel any impact.  I drove off.

I had to circle the lot to get to the exit and I see the woman pointing at me and screaming that I hit her.  A crowd was forming.  Her beat up minivan was left in the middle of the lot, blocking traffic... I thought to myself, "Oh boy, we have a real live asshole here."

I rolled down my window and she yelled at me, "You HIT ME!"

I yelled back, "No, it wasn't me.  I didn't hit you."

Not trusting this woman, I drove back around to see where she claimed I had hit her.  From across the parking lot I did see a big dent (shown up above in the mini-van example photo) which she was attempting to make me and everyone else believe was damage that my truck had caused.

I looked at where the dent was... looked at my truck and said, "I'm sorry, there's no way I could have caused this damage.  First, the dent is too low and secondly, this is an old dent, look at the embedded dirt."

The woman kept screaming ... 'You HIT MY CAR!  I WAS TOOTING AND TOOTING AND YOU IGNORED ME."

I appologized and again said, "I didn't hit you."

In comes a police cruiser.  YAY!

I was so relieved to see a cop.  A woman cop, even better.

The woman starts screaming at the cop that I hit her... the cop said, "Look, you don't want me to get out of this car."

I said, "Officer, No, I don't want you to get out of the car but there's no way I could have caused the damage she is claiming.  I drive a pick up truck... that one over there."  I pointed to my beautiful white and shiny truck with NO dents and absolutely no scratches.

The cop said.  "Just pass papers."

I said, "But officer, I didn't hit her car.  It's impossible."

The cop got out of the car.

SHIT! I thought to myself.  I can't be pulled in to the station, my mom is in the car... she has dementia for God's sake.

I said to the cop, "I have my mom in the car.  She has dementia.  She would have felt the bump if I hit anything and would have made me stop if I did hit something.  I couldn't have hit her."

The cop asked me where I was parked.  I pointed to the spot.  She looked at where the woman was parked in the middle of the lot and said, "THERE"S NO WAY she hit you!"

The screaming blonde foreigner in the beat up minivan began arguing with the cop.  I stood still with my mouth shut.  The cop was looking at the old dent, like I was and the screaming lady immediately said, "Oh, that's an old dent.... she hit me down here."

That's the 2nd X in the minivan picture, LOWER than the original dent.  There is NO POSSIBLE WAY my truck could have scratched her bumper, not that low to the ground.  If I hit her, I would have maybe hit where the old dent was, not where she was trying to tell the cop and me... way down below my bumper... I smelled something fishy.

The cop, she was suspicious of this woman too. 

The policewoman kept saying to the woman, "There is no way she hit you."  The woman insisted.  The cop turned to me and said, "Oh, just go.  There's no way you hit her."

I asked the officer for her name just in case the scam lady tried to claim that I was involved in a hit and run with her... "Office Cataldo"  She said as we both got into our vehicles and drove away.

So... be careful of parking lot scammers who try to blame you for old dents and scratches.

And Then There's Uncle Al

Uncle Al has been on my mind lately.  I haven't been able to visit him at the nursing home because my mom's been taking up so much of my time. 

8:38pm... Ring, Ring, Ring

Telephone?  This late?  Who could it be?

Me:  "Hi Uncle Al!" 

Uncle Al: "Oh Sue, thank God it's you!  How did you call me?"

We pay for Uncle Al to have a phone by his bed at the nursing home, so that he can call us any time, day or night.  The phone has pre-programmed buttons.  I pre-programmed all the buttons to be my home phone number.  He has a better chance of reaching us with all the buttons dialing up our number.

Uncle Al is crafty.  He knows what internal buttons of mine to push to get me to jump to action.  Well, he's pushed the buttons so much that I don't respond like I once did.  Much to Uncle Al's dismay.

My mom, she picked up the phone but decided to "lurk" and "listen."  I still don't know how she didn't laugh out loud.  Then he says to me, "Hey, you owe me!"

Me:  "I owe you?  How's that?"

His daughter stole all of his money, lost his house and dumped him in the nursing home.  She doesn't visit.  Doesn't call... and she hates my guts.  She refuses to speak with anyone in my family, especially me. 

I feel sad for Uncle Al, but he is responsible for how his daughter treats him.  He taught her that the "nuclear family" is the way of the world... mother, father, children.  NO grandparents, no aunts, no uncles... no extended family.  Family was not taught to be important.

As a result, Uncle Al's daughter was a spoiled rotten brat.  An only child who threw temper tantrums if she didn't get what she wanted.  He wouldn't bring her over to our house because my mom had so many kids, he was afraid that his daughter would get germs from us making her sick.  When she was 3 years old is when we met her for the first time.  She was starving for affection and loved being with her cousins.

Uncle Al, he travelled a lot for his job.  He wasn't home very much.  During vacations, I'd go to his house so that I could be his daughters play mate.  I wasn't a good playmate sometimes, I liked being with my aunt instead. 

My Aunt was a gourmet cook and we would watch Julia Childs on PBS and prepare fine dishes for Uncle Al.  I stayed with my Aunt while my cousin was in her room talking to herself.

I really did my best to make my Uncle's daughter feel like she was part of my family.  It seemed like the right thing to do.  I did hate how spoiled she was, especially when we'd drive by a toy store and she'd scream to go in and get a toy.  I could not believe it when Uncle Al would stop and go in and buy her a toy to shut her up.

Did Uncle Al create his own hell on Earth by not teaching his daughter about the importance of family?

In Uncle Al's mind, he believes I owe him.  I'm not sure for what, but he thinks I do.  He gets worried when I don't take him out.  He misses me.  He misses my mom. 

My mom?  After I hung up with Uncle Al I went to see how she was doing.  I found her in her bed laughing her head off as she tried to remember how Uncle Al told me that I "owe him." 

With the 2 of them, I can still see the sibling rivalry, even after all the years that have passed.  My mom is still a bit upset with her brother for not helping her so many years ago when she asked for help.  Al had money.  My mom didn't, she needed help.  Her brother told her that she needed to budget her money better and she shouldn't have had so many kids if she couldn't afford them.

Uncle Al's daughter got into trouble, she became a drug addict, totally screwed up - beat up Uncle Al, Uncle Al went out and bought her drugs... it was sick.  Uncle Al at that point realized that my mom did a good job raising her kids and he wanted to trade, he wanted all 5 of her kids and he'd give her his one spoiled psycho nut bag.  My mom's response... "no thanks."

Uncle Al saved money all his life so that he'd have a good retirement.  My mom, she was lucky she had 2 nickels to rub together to make a dime. 

Today, Uncle Al is in a shitty nursing home, waiting for me to come and take him out or call him on the phone.  My mom, sometimes she thinks she lives in a 5 star hotel and I'm her private nurse that is a Sue Impostor.

Maybe it's Karma... who knows.  I do believe in my heart that I need to help my mom and Uncle Al make amends before they pass, so wherever their souls go after this lifetime, their soul-life doesn't get stuck on a stupid groove of resentment.

I hope to surprise Uncle Al this weekend, maybe even this afternoon with a visit.  He is getting more difficult to take out for rides.  He often forgets how to get in the car.

The Crazy Gene

I think my mom secured me as her care giver when I was a little girl.  She often told me about "the Crazy Gene."  She worried that one of her kids would inherit it.

My mom has a wild story, it's more than likely the real reason I feel the need to care for her.

She grew up during the Great Depression in Roxbury, Massachusetts.  She was the youngest of 4 kids, born to Italian immigrants. 

My grandmother foraged for food, pulling dandelion greens, sorel and other food plants we would consider weeds today.  All foods that are rich in nutrients, which I believe my Grandmother intuitively knew would be good to help her kids ward off the "Crazy Gene."

My mom, never spoke a word to her mother in Italian, never.  Her mom never spoke a word of English to her.  They communicated somehow.  I still find it amazing that my mom never spoke to her mom.  It's sad that she never was given the chance to learn from her mom the things that could have helped her to raise a healthier family and avoid the illness herself.

When my mom was 6 years old, her dad passed away from pneumonia.  He worked in the sewers of Boston, he had a great job that afforded his family lots of luxury, one of the few who had a job during the Depression.

Life changed for my mom and her siblings when their dad died.  My grandmother didn't speak English.  She never had to worry about anything, my grandfather took care of it all.  Everything. 

Time passed, not a lot of time and my grandmother lost their house.  Homeless, she took her 4 kids to the local Catholic Church where they slept in the pews.  I don't know how long they slept in church before a family member took them in.

I remember my mom telling me that when she was 6 years old and her life turned upside down, she was laying in bed and saw the Infant of Prague appear above her bed.  The baby Jesus floated above her and scared the shit out of her.  She tried to close her eyes but she couldn't.  Then she told me she felt peace, that the Christ Child made her feel like she would be protected.

And she was....

The family moved in with cousins, I think one of the cousins was Louise of "Louise's Raviolli's."  My mom often told me stories about how great a cook Louise was, she made the biggest and best homemade raviolli's.  My mom will still talk about Louise's Raviolli's if I salt the conversation with the right words to jog her memory.

Living with relatives, attempting to get some assemblance back in to their lives, my grandmother began hallucinating.  Well, that's what the family believed so they had her committed to a mental institution, Gardner State Mental Institution in Gardner, Mass.  My mom was about 12 when her mom was locked up.

My mom's older sister Florence, she was locked up when she was 16, diagnosed with schizophrenia.  Mother and daughter were both institutionalized, leaving my mom and my Uncle Al to fend for themselves.

Flo pictured above, just before she was institutionalized.

No dad.  No mom.  No family.  No nothing.

I'm not sure of timing. 

My mom's oldest brother, Auggie, he loved my mom and often gave her advice.  Advice that my mom passed on to me and that I often didn't listen to, only later to have regrets. 

My Uncle Auggie would say to my mom, "words can cut like a knife.  Becareful of the words you use because you can never take them back."  Oh... wise words, words I wish I heeded before I got mad at my own sister a few weeks ago.   Emotions got the best of me.  I'm sorry, but these words could be too late.  Time will tell.

Auggie would have been an awesome uncle, if he survived.  He was in World War I but didn't make it.  He was the head of his platoon, in the US Army, honored to serve his country. 

My Grandmother, before she was institutionalized, didn't like the idea that Auggie was going off to war.  She had a preminition that he wasn't coming home so she hid his uniform.  My mom saw where she hid it.

It was time for Auggie to return to the Army, his leave was over.  He couldn't find his uniform.  He was freaking out and crying.  My mom, she loved her brother so much that she went and got his uniform for him, she didn't want to see him crying.

He left for the war, never to return.  He died in France.  He stepped on a landmine as he led his men through a mine field.  It was devastating for my mom, she always blamed herself for the death of her brother.   Of course it wasn't her fault, but for years she's held a bit of guilt for giving him his uniform.

When Auggie was killed, I think this is what pushed my Grandmother over the edge and to cross the line of sanity.  My mom, all she knew was that her mom was crazy.  Her sister was crazy.  Her brother was dead.  Her father was dead.  Her living brother Al, she wasn't a big fan.

My mom lived with relatives and when she was in high school she lived with a doctor and his family.  She took care of the doctors kids, she was the live in nanny.

Mom graduated from Lynn English High School in 1947.  She was great at accounting.  Her teacher thought she should become an accountant.  She didn't. 

My mom, she loved to dance.  At the Oceanview on Revere Beach every night, dancing, with a dance card filled with so many suitors.  My mom was stunning, beautiful and a fabulous dancer.  There was Mario, the short Italian guy that she fancied.  She believed she would marry him.  But, he went off to war and didn't stay in touch with my mom.

My mom, she wasn't a wall flower, my dad saw her and knew he had to be with Jo.  6 months later, they were married.  Mario came back.  Too late Mario. 

I'm grateful that my mom married a Polish man, I wouldn't want to go through life short.

My mom and dad had 5 kids.  I'm the 4th child, the youngest daughter. 

I wouldn't say any of us caught the crazy gene, it's more like acquiring it through poor nutrition.  My mom didn't learn about nutrition from her mom.  All the natural remedies that my grandmother brought over with her from Italy were lost.

My family in 1968, first time visiting my mom's mom in the mental institution. It totally freaked me out. Everything was painted battle ship gray, the TV's were behind chain link fence hanging off the ceiling.

Life happened. 

In a sense, I feel like I'm completing my mom's circle of life.  I'm learning about the natural remedies and nutrition, all the things my Gram would have taught my mom if she could. 

My mom's life is winding down.  She is a little crazy sometimes, but it's not genetic.  Poor nutrition, no exercise and a few hits on her head from falls have brought us to where we are today.

I've learned through my mom that it's never too late to take care of ourselves.  I wish I paid attention to her health sooner than I did so that my mom could have had a few REALLY great years.

But, it is what it is and all I can do is what I'm doing.

My mom's final curtain call will be one of grace and peace, one where she feels the love of family, something she lost when she was 6.  I am committed to my family, I love them all, especially my mom. 

She deserves to be loved. 

Uncle Al and my mom are the only 2 left now. 

Uncle Al is 83 and my mom is 80.  Uncle Al is in a nursing home with an Rx of Alzheimers.  I think he has the same thing as my mom because he hallucinates.  Uncle Al has a story too, a sad story that I'll save for the book that I'm currently editing.

Very Good Article that Explains Lewy Bodies

The Man... He's Gone for NOW!

The Man, the scary man that began disappearing yesterday, is now completely gone.

I asked my mom this morning, "So Ma, did you see the man last night?"

"No!  I didn't even see any dead relatives."  As she let out a laugh that would make the saddest person turn a frown upside down.

My mom appears to be having a good day, even after her fall last night.

Her muscles are a little sore in her duppa, but for the most part she's fine.  Nothing a little Arnica homeopathy won't fix.

Thank God for Dry Cat Food

Dinner was served.

My husband was home from work... Yay!

We opened a bottle of wine, a bottle of Pinot Noir, my new favorite variety these days.

Sitting in our bedroom, in our quiet little nook in the corner of our house, we sipped wine while we discussed the events or our day.

Ahhhh... a chance to relax together.

I'm not sure who was talking when all of a sudden...

BAAAAA.... BAHAHAHDHDAAAAA.... BOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!! BANG!

Oh SHIT!

It had to be my mother; the foot steps sounded like my mother's.

I started screaming...

MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! ARE YOU OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

My heart, pounding and racing, I flew up the stairs. I didn't feel anything beneath my feet.

"I'M COMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG! MA!!!!"

My dear sweet husband rushing behind me, I never stopped to look at him.

At the top of the stairs, I see my mom in the kitchen, laying on the floor.

My heart in my throat, I ask if she hit her head.

"Nope." Was her reply... "I fell on my ass. Good thing for my ass."

She was trying to make me laugh.

I felt like throwing up, laughing wasn't even a passing thought at this point.

The cat... well she was freaking, totally flipped out.

All puffed up because Josie was on the floor.

I was screaming, "Ma! Ma! Are you alright?!"

Cat, tail bushed out, growling and hissing, seriously growling and hissing like she was protecting my mother or something.

Not sure who she was growling and hissing at.

She was pissed. She started to attack my husband

Josie was on the floor!

I picked my mom up in a flash.

I checked her head, no bump.

Thank God her head landed on the 100 lbs of dry cat food she insists on keeping on hand for her cat. Afterall, she wouldn't want the cat to go hungry?

How'd she fall?

She was feeding the cat, AGAIN!

She thinks the cat needs to eat every time she eats. The cat is so damn fat. I could never stop her from feeding Savita the Cat even when she sort of had her mind. No chance of stopping her now when she's lost it.

I gave my mom 5 pellets of Arnica under her tongue. I know it's the homeopathic remedy to give someone who has fallen. It's good for muscle aches, pains and head injuries.

My mom, she's doing fine. She doesn't feel any pain. She is speaking clearly.

I asked her what I could do to help her feel better, her reply, "Well, a little ice cream will make it all better." She gave me her cute little laugh.

I brought her a small dish of ice cream with 4 drops of Fenugreek to balance out the sugar.

Now it's time to go and tuck her in, give her Reiki and Hypnosis.

Thank God for her fetish of having LOTS of dry catfood on hand for her under fed cat... it just may have saved her from a trip to the ER.

The Man is Under my Covers

Just when I thought we were doing so well with keeping the hallucinations away, my mom asks the question, "So tell me, what can I do about the man under my covers? Can you give me something to get rid of him?"

Not words that I wanted to hear.

We're down to just one hallucination, just one man, "the man", the spook that scares the snot out of her.

"It's not a whole man" she tells me this morning. "... He's sort of transparent from the waste up. He doesn't have legs anymore. It's strange. I don't know how to explain it."

I ask my mom, "So, when was the last time you saw him?"

"Hmmmmm?" She replies as she looks up to the ceiling as if the answer is written there for her to see.

"I don't know, it could be 2 days. I'm not sure. But I need to explain it to you. Listen."

So, I listened to my mom explain to me how this man is invisible to everyone but her. He has been sneaking under her covers at night. He can get by me because he's invisible. He doesn't squeak the floors either because he can float.

I asked her if it is my dad. I know that last week she talked about him being in bed with her all night and for me to be quiet in the morning so that I didn't wake him. Now, it's not my dad. It's some strange man that wears a big black brimmed hat.

Is she seeing an apparition? Is it Lewy? Has she put a nasty image to go along with Lewy? I'm beginning to think that naming her illness wasn't such a good idea.

She believes this hallucination is there, that it's real. She tells me it's one of those people from the house next door, the ones that look over the fence at her sometimes.

I've never seen anyone looking over the fence, ever.

My mom, she does patrol the yard visually from the safety of our home. She walks around, looking through windows that will give her a clear view of the fence. She'll either tell me that she sees people or that there's no one there.

Lately, during the day, especially since she started to take Ashwagandha in the morning too, she hasn't hallucinated during the day. She hasn't seen any "people" looking at her over the fence. If she does, that's when I give her 4 pellets of Helleborus Niger 30 C. I haven't given her any in several days.

Now what do I do?

I believe she's dreaming when she thinks the man is in bed with her, the dark transparent man with the big brimmed hat.

In the past she would have actually woken up and walked to find someone to show the man to... that someone has typically been me. I don't hear her get up and walk around.

Thank God for those squeaky floor boards.

The absence of her night time sleep walking is leading me to believe that by naming her disease and referring to it as Lewy, my mom's subconscious has given a shape to the offending cause of her illness...

Who is "The Man", the only hallucination she seems to be having, could it be her subconscious perception of "Lewy?"

Today I will explain this to her. She loves it when I give her an explaination for what ails her, it makes her feel more comfortable. Who knows if I'm right or wrong, I do know that the end result is always the same, she's relaxed.

She trusts me. She believes that I'm going to help find a cure for what ails her. When we do, it sure will be cause to celebrate. If we are not able to, then my mom will go to the grave believing that we did.

Could the final remedy for the cure be LOVE?

Happy Thoughts, Happy Life

It's been 3 days since my mom started to take Ashwagandha in the morning, as well as in the evening.

Amazing!

Our lives appear to be finding some normalcy, after so many months of running around looking for items that were "stolen" by the "man" or making sure that the little children don't hurt themselves.

It can be funny, watching from the outside, but when one is living the nightmare, it's a living hell on Earth.

Seeing ones parent decline, especially mentally when they forget who you are, is painful. It's a slow emotional death for a child, regardless of their age. Watching and waiting, not really knowing what tomorrow will bring or if the last time I saw the person would be the last time I had the opportunity to share a big hug, give some Reiki or Hypnosis.

I can chose how I want to remember the end now.

NOW is all that matters when one has Lewy Bodies Dementia.... one day at a time, one second at a time, it's how it has to be.

My mom is teaching me how to live in the NOW. We are living on Lewy's time... her time.

Tomorrow may not be here for her. She doesn't care, she has no clue, she lives her life happily like a little girl on most days.

My mom, she enjoys hugs, lots of hugs.

Ashwagandha and the other natural supplements that she's on are allowing her to have happy days, days where she wakes up and thinks she's in heaven.

The dynamics involved with caregiving is like the Universe. Everything depends on everything else to create the perfect or not so perfect day.

Emotions matter.

When I'm happy, mom's happy... when I am sad, she's sad. I don't even have to say anything, it's the energy she feels.

Caring for my mom is not only teaching me that living in the NOW is important, it's how I chose to think about every day that I have with her.

I am fortunate. My mom has given me the opportunity to work on my character flaws and strive to be like the Buddha.

Happy thoughts, happy life.

Supporting Information Regarding Deadly Nightshade of Plants and Lewy Bodies Dementia

Several weeks ago I had stumbled upon research results that stated anyone who has dementia should avoid Belladonna family of plants. This includes Deadly Nightshade, which consist of tomatoes, potatoes, peppers and eggplant.

I stopped giving my mom these foods when I read this and she seemed to start having better days and not walking in her sleep, freaking everyone out, like the night she called the police because she believed "the man" violated her. (* She also reported me missing. You can read the story here in an old post, it is pretty funny now, but at the time, not so funny.)

I've been looking for the place where I got to this conclusion so that I can share it with my mom's Naturopath Doctor.

I was able to trace my steps. I'll list them here with my reasoning that lead me to find what I would consider a key nutrition fact that all folks with dementia should know about.

FACT: My mom has better days and nights now that she doesn't eat any tomatoes, potatoes, peppers or eggplant.

On a mission to find this information, I did a search - "lewy bodies dementia tomatoes".

I came to this page: The Alzheimer's Action Plan: The Experts Guide to the Best Diagnosis...

I read on and on about all the different types of dementia and how they are caused. Pretty eye opening, who knew? Some can be genetic. Some are caused by a blow to the head. Others by poor nutrition which brings on high blood pressure, diabetes, obesity, which later could lead to bigger problems.

As I read, I looked for any word or words that popped out at me; Anticholinergic was the word that became more visible on the page.

My mom was diagnosed with Parkinson's several years ago, she was never on any medication for it. I know that anticholinergic drugs that are used to treat the symptoms of Parkinson's are the worst drugs for folks with Lewy Bodies.

I started to think to myself, "hmmmm, I wonder what natural plants have Anticholinergic properties?"

Fortunately, I was on the right page. I know that Belladonna is in the same plant group as Deadly Nightshade, which is where all my mom's favorite and former staple to her diet vegetables came from.

As I read the article I saw a web address for "The Beers List: Potentially Inappropriate Medications for the Elderly."

Knowing about Belladonna, I clicked on the "Belladonna Alkaloids."

I read all about Belladonna and came to near the end where I found the place where I had originally learned about this anticholinergic plant. If you go down to the Safety section, read the allergies and side effects/warnings.

For those who don't know, dementia folks NEED Choline, it helps with cognition.

Today, I made chilli. I was thinking of letting my mom have some. Now, I'll make her a healthier choice - baked haddock with a salad on the side.

BINGO! A Day Off from Caregiving

It's been pretty darn awesome around here now that we have my mom on Ashwagandha in the morning and in the evening.

Mom can carry a conversation and takes great pride in reminding me about things that I forget. Music to my ears, "Susie, did you remember that you needed cumin?" All through the store she reminded me of things that I had put on my list.

It's almost like she's turning into the "Rainman" with her new herbal remedies.

Deep inside I have a dream that my mom will be cured. I suppose I'm in denial that my mom will only get worse, well, that's what people say... that's what I read on all these blogs and online support groups of folks caring for parents with dementia, specifically, Lewy Bodies Dementia.

I don't want to believe it. I want to see my mom just die peacefully and comfortably. She deserves to pass over to wherever it is we go, in peace.

Reading the online support group notes, one after another, telling the horror stories of their wards. Screaming through the night, the caregiver is left wondering what to do. Are they in pain? Not being able to communicate, the patient is often left screaming and the caregiver wondering how to make it all stop.

I feel the pain of the caregiver. Somedays it's my personal experiences with my mom's Lewy Bodies that causes my pain but sometimes, when my mom is having a good day, it's the stories of others that make me cry.

Today I'm left wondering, is mom getting better? She's not on the drugs that others with her condition are on, we are trying something different, natural and homeopathic remedies.

Yesterday, my mom picked up the phone in her room and called my sister. BY HERSELF. She remembered her phone number from memory and dialed. I was speechless. Is my mom getting better?

Is it OK to expect improvement with someone who has Lewy Bodies Dementia? From what I read the answer is no. There is no cure. There's no hope.

But... I still have a glimmer of hope, a spark inside that keeps me going, working to help her to overcome her mental angst that Lewy brings with it. Reiki and Hypnosis help. I am visualizing the lewy bodies dissolving. Is it working?

Today, I have a day off, a few hours while my mom is at the Bingo Hall with my sister. I should have planned better and had some great day planned with Brian, but I didn't.

Do I take a nap? I read a blog post this morning about napping and boy, that sounds like a fine way to spend my day off. I suppose I could travel in my mind to one of the many exotic places that I've been in my lifetime.

Maybe I'll dream about the trip to Wine Country that I'll take one day with Brian, to visit my childhood pen pal (my good friend) where we'll bop in and out of wineries, trying little samples, lots of them, swallowing the fine wine instead of spitting it out, laughing, buying wine to bring home, laughing, giggling - definitely catching a good buzz.

When I was working, before I became my mom's caregiver, I traveled to California a lot, where my friend Corinne lives. I always extended my trip, staying over a weekend so that Corinne and I could take one of our fabulous trips up to Sonoma or Napa.

I believe this picture was taken at Grundlasch Bundschu, my favorite winery back in 2006. We had a good buzz going for ourselves. Corinne is a really good friend. We formed our friendship through the US Postal Service, starting in 1968. You can read about it here if you want to know our story.

Mom's out with my sister. I'm free until 4pm. It's a beautiful day to spend with my husband, maybe drinking wine... maybe... we should just take a long nap!

My Favorite Trick-o-Treater 2009

Halloween night... oh boy. Let's give all the kids high fructose corn syrup and help to start them down a poor health road.

I did NOT want to pass out candy. I wanted to give out tooth brushes, but I didn't want to be "that lady", the one who ruins the Halloween fun.

So, I bought candy. Lots of it. I must have beent thinking that I still live at the house we sold, my first house that I had bought. Over my 10 years of residing in my cute little bungalow with my mom and Brian on the weekends, I had become known as a "good candy house."

Over the years, I started to get more and more kids. I decorated my house so that it was inviting for all the ghouls and goblins, begging for sweet treats. It worked. I'd sometimes have over 100 kids show up at my door. I hated running out of candy. One year I did and gave out microwave popcorn packages.

The kids didn't like the popcorn packages, it was too healthy. Thank God they spared me any tricks, they must have given me special dispensation because I never let them down with giving them candy.

This year, I don't know what I was thinking, we never get many trick o treaters around this neighborhood. I still felt that I needed to buy lots of candy. I did.

We had about 8 kids. Brian passed out the candy for most of the evening while I checked on the moms, made dinner and cleaned the mess.

I wanted to see the kids so I relieved Brian of his duty. I didn't have to ask him twice. He left a cloud of dust, he ran off so fast.

Ding Dong

I spy a cute little lady bug costume. The little girl must have been about 2, maybe 3. Her sister was about 6.

I held the huge bowl of candy down so that the little girls could take a treat. The 6 year old, she took 1 little piece and ran off to see the folks at the end of the driveway who seemed to be with her parents.

The 2-3 year old lady bug? Well, I never so anything so funny. Her tiny little hand kept grabbing at the candy, fast and furious, stuffing it in her little plastic pumpkin. I couldn't stop laughing. I held the bowl down for her. Her mom was snapping pictures. We were howling.

I wish I had my video camera handy or at least a camera to capture a picture to share, but it all happened so fast.

This year, the lady bug girl was my favorite, quite an opportunist at such a young age!