Anxiety

My mom and aunt both smoked like crazy. My aunt passed that anxiety to her children, two of whom died last fall, one due to lung cancer.  My mother developed pneumonia which led to her state, vascular dementia, and emphysema.  It's my observation that those smokers who maintain that relationship through thick and thin, despite all the warnings, despite all of the information and seeing those around them succumb to its effects, are those who have an anxious nature.  Nicotine reduces the anxiety.  It is a balm; so the addiction is much more than a straight forward drug addiction.  It is an addiction to feeling okay about things.

When I asked my aunt about why she continued to smoke she told me that she opted to smoke over taking an anti-depressant because she didn't want to become addicted to a mind altering drug.  Isn't that amazing?  My son is the same way.  They choose a drug that does alter their state of mind and greatly damages their health, but do so thinking it will impact their self-awareness less.

But the point I wanted to make is related to how Mom's anxiety affects her as she ages - being far more vulnerable than my aunt who does not have dementia.  I mentioned in one of my posts that we had been giving Mom a simple anti-anxiety drug called, Ativan.  She only requires 1 tablet, although I just read that it may be taken up to 3 times per day if needed.  It is not long-lasting in its effects, but smoothes the edges.  I also have been talking about Mom's improvement over the last few days which seem to be the result of improved oxygen flow and sufficient electrolytes.

A by-product of improved cognition is greater awareness and hence anxiety.  I did not give her Ativan yesterday.  I deliberately do not give her a dosage over the weekend.  Gary told me he went down and Mom no longer showed signs of a stomach problem, but she was all worked up about feeling abandoned.  He said it took a lot to get it out of her, but that is what he ultimately made out of the conversation.

So, the trip to the assisted living home did have an effect on her, and she experienced that from the perspective of one who has an anxious nature and is self-aware enough to feel vulnerable.  She feels she can not chart her own destiny.  I went down later, but did not open the conversation to any topic about her state of mind or emotions.  I asked what she needed for food and continued on as normal without any change in my demeanor.  At this juncture, it will be very important for me to be even in my interactions with her so there is nothing in my manner that catalyzes increased anxiety.

An interesting event occurred later in the day.  As she was getting ready for bed, I told her that Marilyn would be in to take care of her in the morning.  She asked "Who?" which didn't surprise me.  She'd done the same with Pam.  But this time, when I said she came into help in the mornings, she brightened up and obviously remembered her.

Every day I feel grateful for the Apria delivery man who decided to take his MBA here - of all the unexpected places.