Both Moms With Dementia

3-2 Mom's First Loss of Control

As Mom's dementia worsened, I had to reduce my teaching hours at school and give up all my hobbies. There were increasingly more days when I had to devote myself entirely to her. To make matters worse, Mom suffered a fractured back, leaving her unable to move. She had to temporarily stop attending the daycare center as well. During the day, when I wasn't teaching, I had to stay by her side no matter what I was doing, and eventually, I even had to spend the nights with her.

On days when I had lectures, I would often come home to find Mom soaked in sweat from head to toe. Since she was still conscious, it must have been from her struggling for hours to try and get to the bathroom on her own. Unable to move properly, taking Mom to the bathroom was an overwhelmingly difficult task for me, one that required me to summon superhuman strength every time. When my husband was home, I could call him for help, but when he wasn’t, I had to handle this exhausting labor all on my own, day and night.

Mom was slightly on the heavier side. Since I’m small and can’t carry her, I had to come up with a method of my own. First, I’d help Mom sit up and position her legs in the direction of the bathroom. Then, I’d sit back-to-back with her. Next, I’d press my hips firmly against the floor, bend my knees, and plant my feet on the ground. By pushing against the floor with my legs, I could slowly inch her toward the bathroom. However, because Mom is so heavy, the distance I could move her in one push was barely the length of a handspan. The journey to the bathroom felt like traveling ten miles.

“Mom, I can’t do this on my own! You’ve got to help by trying to move forward too!”

A simple trip to the bathroom felt like a fierce battle for us. By the time we finished wrestling with the process for about two hours, both of us would be drenched in sweat.

I later found out that once a patient is approved for a caregiving level, they can rent or purchase necessary welfare equipment or supplies. In Mom’s case, because standing up was difficult due to her fracture, she could have used a medical bed or a portable commode. However, at the time, I didn’t have that information, so we ended up enduring all that physical hardship unnecessarily.

I used to make and consume naturally fermented vinegar regularly. After hearing that choran - in Korea, we call a special fermented vinegar 'choran.' It is made by fermenting eggs in vinegar. During the fermentation process, the eggshell completely dissolves, leaving only some soft residue. The remaining liquid is then referred to as vinegar choran- is good for healing fractures. I made it for Mom. At first, she absolutely refused to drink it, yelling, "You drink it yourself!" and stubbornly resisting. “I won’t go to school unless I see you drink this, Mom. If you don’t drink it, I’m not going either,” I said, trying to coerce her. Whether it was because my threat worked or not, it took quite a battle, but eventually, Mom started drinking choran.

After about two months of drinking choran, whether due to the vinegar effect or not, one day Mom suddenly said, "Thanks to the vinegar you gave me, I’m healed," and miraculously got up after being bedridden for a long time. It was such a surprising moment. She had been unable to go to the hospital because of long waiting times for surgery in a big hospital in Seoul, even after making an appointment. But thanks to that, she didn’t need the surgery after all.

Although the fracture improved, the symptoms of dementia did not get any better. In fact, the worries I had hoped would not happen did occur. I seemed to smell something strange and was sniffing around, when Mom said, "What’s wrong? I didn’t do anything." That made things more suspicious. "Okay, but come here for a moment, let’s go to the bathroom." I gently coaxed Mom to sit on the toilet, and when I lowered her underwear, I found that she had soiled herself. Mom, seeing it for herself, was shocked as well. Both of us were so stunned that we couldn’t say a word, only staring at each other in disbelief. It felt as though the entire world had stopped. We couldn’t hear the ticking of the clock. It took some time before we could accept what we had just witnessed.

I knew that if I got flustered, it would only make things worse for Mom, so I tried to suppress my emotions as much as possible while cleaning her up. My mind was busy thinking of various things to say to Mom, but my hands focused on the task of cleaning her. "What should I do? What now? How should I comfort her?" I kept asking myself these questions as I worked.

I helped Mom change into fresh clothes and sat her down on the sofa. Once she regained her senses, she wiped away her tears, overwhelmed with guilt and unsure of what to do. Her tears seemed to be a mixture of shame and various complicated emotions. I could only imagine how embarrassed and upset she must have felt! I tried my best to act calm, speaking to her as though nothing had happened.

"Mom, it's okay~. It happens! When you get older, you go back to being a baby again! Just like when I was little and you changed my diapers, now it's my turn to repay your kindness! Don't worry, Mom. You did well! Passing stool is a sign that your body is healthy and working well. You did great!“

"Oh my, how did it end up like this!“

"You did great, Mom~. It's proof that you're healthy! Constipation would be much harder.“

"Here I am, living this long and making you suffer, my daughter. What should I do?“

Mom's sobbing showed no signs of stopping. I also held her and cried silently. Mom, filled with guilt, shame, and despair, while I felt sorry for her and heartbroken!