3 Sept 2026
Gloria Steinem died.
I still am not getting my "Title One Incentive" pay or my stipend, so my checks are not just short because my insurance is more than my COL raise, but short because I'm not being paid what I'm supposed to be getting paid.
Just filling you in so you don't think I've turned the corner and am now Dolly Pardon level positive.
My Mom's Appointment Story:
I arrived at 10.35. She wanted me there by 10.45 for an 11 am check in, the appointment was for 11.20.
She knew I was there to take her to the Doc. She said she was "worse than usual" and couldn't remember anything and felt dizzy.
Five minutes later, she said she didn't know why we were going to the Dr. I said "I'm not sure, either, I think it's a follow up to your Psych and memory appointments."
She pulled out a yellow sticky note from her purse that said MEMORY.
She laughed.
She then pulled out two more notes on St. Jude Stationary with lists of words: "pancreas", "prednesone", "back pain", and "weight loss".
I found a receipt for Great Cuts on her counter. "Mom, you have a grandchild who is a hairdresser, they've offered to cut your hair repeatedly."
"What?"
"Why'd you pay for a haircut, Noa will do it. They're a hairdresser."
"Who?"
"Genoa. You have a grandchild who is a hairdresser."
"I do?"
Ok.
As we waited in the lobby, mom shared with me that she had "researched" her symptoms and concluded she has some random wasting disease. I said "Please do not tell the doctor you self diagnosed on the internet."
When we were escorted to the room, the nurse asked why she was there. She pulled out the blue St. Jude's notes and started reading. I interrupted "Mom, I think this is your memory follow up". The nurse smiled and listened to her list, everything but "pancreas". Mom then dropped the wasting disease diagnoses and I just slapped my hand to my head. The nurse smiled and took her blood pressure.
I was recording for my sister so we have the info, but I don't know how to use voice recordings on my phone, I just use video. This is a problem in a doctor's office, so the kind nurse helped the geriatric child of the geriatric patient by downloading voice memos onto my phone.
When the doctor arrived, she asked how mom was doing. Mom began to read her St. Jude notes. The young doctor -who is clearly a very kind human and who is used to answering the same questions ad nauseum from mom, let her finish before saying "We're here for your memory follow up." Mom looked at her, then back at her notes. She read "Weight loss" and the Doc laughed. "We talk about this every time you're here. You've gained three pounds since your last visit. You're losing weight because you are forgetting to eat."
The next one was her back pain, which the Doc pointed out was an issue three weeks ago and was likely a pulled muscle, as mom still works in her garden. Mom asked about renewing the prescription for prednesone and was shut down. Nope. They don't do that with that med. "Would you like to schedule a physical therapy appointment? Would you like them to come to the house?"
"Yes."
"Great, we're here for your memory follow up."
Mom looked at her notes. The Doc prompted her to look up. "Do you understand?"
Silence.
"Mom, you're here for your memory appointment. You gained weight because you're remembering to eat. The back pain is from the gardening." She looked up and nodded.
This is where the bomb got dropped and mom wouldn't look up from her notes unless I forced her to.
She now has a working Alzheimers diagnoses.
For a woman who has been complaining that she cannot remember anything, she was improbably shocked.
I sat there listening to the litany of tests they've run, trying to figure out how she has Kaiser at the age of 81---shouldn't it be Medicare? Is Kaiser part of Medicare? CT scans, MRI's, psych appoinment, upcoming referral to neurology, a cacophany of follow ups and other appointments for her additional physical ailments--I tuned out to wonder about insurance.
She can still drive as long as one of us is with her and it's a known location. She needs to remember to eat. She needs to go outside more than just gardening and try to walk, she's unsteady but she needs to do it. She loves word searches which is a great thing for her brain. Nothing, really, is changing. A care team will reach out to us to talk about strategies and she has to see the neurologist to make sure Parkinsons isn't riding shotgun with Alzheimers.
Nothing, really, is changing.
Except what the diagnoses is doing to her mental health.
She was really committed to the Cachexia self diagnoses.
My mom is a control freak. I will pause while you loudly roll your eyes because kryssi is a control freak and there are no surprises here.
So when mom decides she has A Thing, she has A Thing and nobody's changing her mind.
She asked again about prednasone.
She again said her back hurts.
She again brought up the weight loss. She was hyper focused on her St. Jude notes.
The Doc asked again if there were any questions. Mom was buried in her notes, where she had written "pancreas". She was convinced her back pain was her pancreas, but of all the words on her blue note, this was the only one she did not say outloud.
Mom didn't take physiology, and I'm not saying jack about jack, because she'll forget, anyway.
So I decided the Doc needed a good parting shot and said "Mom, you wanted to know where your pancreas is." The Doc looked at me and I explained that my grandmother died of pancreatic cancer at 63. So that's where mom's head is.
She explained where the pancreas is located, and walked mom through what the symptoms would be.
Since your pancreas is on the front of your body, there would be no back pain.
The Doc left and the nurse re- entered to give mom a flu shot and set a three month check in appointment.
All done, we went to the Wendy's drivethrough to get her a vanilla frosty and burger. I struggled with the robot voice enough that a human finally took over. Mom didn't want a combo and the robot wouldn't let us out of it. The human understood. Once back at her house, she sat with her head in her hands. "I can't hear and I can't see and I can't think I can't live!"
I'm no good at bedside stuff, especially right now. I congratulated her on remembering where to return her handicap placard when we got in the house, and she said "Whoooopeeee!" and I shrugged. I thought it was funny, and that's all I have.
Because this sucks. She didn't have to go through this with her parents. Grandma died at 63 and I am unsure if grandpa made it to 70. Neither really had memory issues---they were both raging alcoholics so even if there were any, it's unlikely anyone noticed, as they frequently spewed word salad. So there is nothing on which to anchor her experience, either for good or bad.
This sucks.
Nobody wants to lose their mind.
So I listened to her, and answered a few repeat questions while she slowly spooned her frosty. She asked me five times why I didn't buy myself a burger. There is no way I'm telling my mom the real reason --- I fear poison meat---so I told her I stopped eating fast food.
I told her five times.
She seemed to relax a bit and at least stopped looking shell shocked. So I asked about her friends, and church. She asked about the kids and Jim--who she now remembered, so the frosty must be magical medicine--and then decided she was tired and needed a nap.
Which is where I left her. Feeling a bit more positive and ready for a nap.
Until she wakes up and remembers the diagnoses...
This Sucks.
