ON January 21, my family is celebrating the 95th birthday of Ima, my beautiful mother.
We have gotten this far from November 2017 when she had her first severe attack of dementia. We brought her to St. Luke’s Medical Center then. She is now better because of the medications the doctors gave for her brain and nerves.
Those were awful times when the attacks first came on. She had a bad fall in May 2017, but the test showed no bad damage, although there was a lot of bleeding. In November of that year, the dementia attacks came. We had to bring her to St. Luke’s again; the attacks were severe.
The attacks started at home. She would be in bed and then would start complaining of young boys and girls crawling all over the walls of her room, breaking the glasses of her aparador (cabinet).
To humor her, I would shout at the unseen little boys and girls: “Get out, don’t bother my Ima.” That would calm her somehow.
But then she started getting weak. She would not eat, claimed she ate already, and the hallucinations would happen again. When she still could get up from bed, she would insist she had to leave the house, look for her eldest daughter—me—take a ship at the pier to where we did not know.
I would say, “Ima, I’m Lizzie—Olly —your first-born. I am here.” She would look at me uncomprehending, insisting she needed to get out of the house to look for her daughter to wherever her confused mind directed her.
We had some very bad times at the hospital where we had to call the nurses for help. She would scream that her bed was on fire, we had to help her get out of bed. All the time she would physically struggle to get out of bed even when she had a dextrose bottle attached to her arm. There was a bad-looking man about to lunge at her from over her bed. We had to call the nurses for help.
She’s much better now. She does not hallucinate that often and severely. The fact is, she’s good when we talk about the old days, the old people from the past, her siblings now all gone. She’s the last woman standing. She would recall the kind and loving things they did for her, being the youngest of nine children. Her favorite was Tatang Titong, Philippine Military Academy Cadet Class of 1941, who died in his baptism of fire as a new graduate in the country’s premier military academy during World War II.
We would play her favorite music from the 1930s, popular singers of classical songs Jeanette McDonald, Nelson Eddy, Deanna Durbin and Mario Lanza. Being musically gifted herself, she would sing along with the music, and we were all happy.
Dementia is a cruel sickness of the elderly. The thing she has, the doctor said, is vascular dementia, the third-most common form of dementia among the aged. It was caused by several mini-strokes that happened because her blood was too thick and would sometimes collect in the ridges of her brain. Among her meds is one for thinning the blood.
We thank the Lord there are fewer episodes, almost no more hallucinations. She retains a clear mind in our talks, especially about her recollections of the golden days of her youth.
We are trying to care for her now the best way we can. It’s sad that we cannot always be with her. That is why we have to give whole-hearted thanks to the caregivers who take our place. We are lucky we found Yaya Tess and Yaya Jen whom she calls Agnes, taking her for a favorite niece. They are very kind. They take good care of her, feeding her, cleaning her up, consoling her when she is feeling inarte and emotional.
It’s not just for the money that they care for her so well and lovingly; they are good people, maybe because they are from Negros Occidental. Aren’t Negrenses known for being cariñosa and cariñoso?
We are thankful that Ima is still with us on her 95th birthday. We feared for a while over the past year that we had to give up. What fighters we have been—Ima and us sisters and one brother. Praying and finding ways to stave off the inevitable.
I told her on her 93rd birthday, “Ima, hang in there. Only seven years to go, then we will collect P100,000 from the government for her living up to 100.”
I am sure we will make it. With the help of meds and the doctors, Ima has overcome the dimness of dementia. She has such a strong fighting spirit, Socorro Valencia Radam of Tondo and Sampaloc, Manila. I can only say thank you for giving this feistiness to me and my siblings.
We children must take care of our parents when they cannot deal with themselves anymore, a payback to the days when we depended on them for guidance and for our very lives, when they loved and nurtured us their children in their best years.
In particular, we have to say thank you, Ima, for the strength of character, the honesty, your insistence that we make the best of ourselves no matter what or where we end up. That was your way. We are thankful that it has also been our way because of you.