My mother was diagnosed with vascular dementia in 2010. This is a blog about coming to terms with her absent mind.

Tuesday, 23 August 2011

The honeymoon is over

It's been a fairly quiet day. Ma had visitors this morning and the district nurse came and removed the clips from Ma's wound.

At about 5pm Ma started making noises about going to bed. I suggested it was a bit early and tried to distract her with some quiz show she likes while I put together a lasagne for George. That worked until about half past when she clattered into the kitchen and asked me when we were going.

We aren't going anywhere Mum.

You said you were going away.

Nope. The children are going back on Thursday but we aren't going anywhere now.

I want to come too.

But we aren't going anywhere!

At this she declared she was off to bed.

I followed and asked her if she'd wait for the girls to come, but no. So of course there was a discussion about what she needed to wear in bed but she put them on in the end. Then tried to put both legs in one pyjama leg, nearly pitching to the floor. I caught her of course but she wasn't happy.

Injection done and meds taken I offered her a cup of tea which she accepted. As I'm making the tea I can hear her shouting in the bedroom.

When I go in she is crying and starts saying to me that I'm not the wonderful daughter she knew and she doesn't know what happened. I'm horrible and rude, it's always about me and she can't imagine what my father (who loved you so much) would think about it all.

Let me tell you it is SO hard sometimes. So bloody hard not to respond in kind. So hard to keep level and carry on. To make sure you only cry when you aren't in the room because any sign of that makes things far worse. So hard to just read a message on facebook from SIL bemoaning that they are on the last week of their holiday. I don't begrudge them at all, but the timing was crap.

She's waiting for the girls to arrive. Face on. Duvet up to her chin.

I might ask if there's any chance they could come earlier in the evenings.


For the record she has eaten 1 crumpet, 1 bite of cake, and 1 dessertspoon of sticky toffee pudding today.


  1. oh my Bee, a difficult day for you, I only have words of support to offer, I wish I could do more to help you. Your words paint such a vivid picture of the difficulties of caring with someone with dementia. I send you all my love as always. Gill x

  2. Dearest Bee, much love and prayers as always. Xxx

  3. Big sympathetic hug, Bee. Hope tomorrow will be better. xxx

  4. OK, earplugs in. Go, Bee! Let rip! Good luck, hon! :) x

  5. Aw, I'm sorry to hear you have had a tough day, Bee. :( My Grandma often blames my Mum for everything that goes wrong or is nasty behind her back to relative strangers to the situation when Mum thinks they are getting on ok and it hurts her so much when it happens. *hugs* Hope you are ok.