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

Saturday, 1 October 2011

Another Saturday

After a full night of sleep and no disturbances Ma was fairly cheerful this morning. I gave her her meds and a cup of tea and she went off to the loo. Next thing I heard the shower running! For the first time in months she was able to turn it on, my ghast was flabbered. However she couldn't turn it off again.

She's going through a bad tempered independence stage at the moment so I leave her clothes out ready and she gets herself dressed. This morning everything went on back to front but she didn't add any extra layers for a change. She had porridge and coffee and we watched the rugby. Then went for a coffee with Mavis and Vic. I cooked salmon, new potatoes, carrots and peas for lunch and she ate the lot.

About two hours ago it all started to go to hell very quickly. I honestly don't know what kicked it off this time but there does seem to be a pattern emerging. Usually the first sign is confusion between reality and the tv. Then the tears start and the 'I always loved you' type of comments, followed by threats and accusations and then falling on the sofa or the bed and sobbing. This can circle back several times.

At the moment she will not be in the same room as me because of what I've done (poached salmon? watched rugby? breathed heavily?) and is trying to use the telephone to ring someone, no idea who, she won't tell me only that 'they' will come and get her. Clearly right this second 'they' are welcome to her.


(16:58) We are now watching CDWM and just like that the storm is over. As usual I am an emotional wreck. Thank God for crap tv tonight - a bit X Factor, Sauv B and a bitch on Twitter will restore my equilibrium.


Talking of Twitter.... I was chatting on there this morning with one of the wonderful people who give me tremendous emotional support and happened to mention the back-to-front clothes. She commented that it's quite a feat to put everything on backwards and that she's noticed her mother often does things in the most awkward way possible. This struck a chord with me too - I watched her open a new box of tissues the other day. She tried to get in through the end of the box, then underneath. By the time I intervened and showed her how the piece came out of the top the tissues were falling out of every which way.

However, now the new tissues are open I hope she'll stop blowing her nose on the incontinence knickers.

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