Panic on the streets of Wigan , well Lower Ince.

I toyed with today's blog. Should it be on my twenty shades of social housing or this one. I have gone for this. The reason being the message I have is more likely to reach those who it may help through this forum. The story I am about to share is about a young lad, but equally could be a dementia sufferer who has wandered away from home. Today, as usual, I took mum to see dad. It was absolutely sorry weather. Luckily we arrived in between hail showers. We got out the car and started to walk to the entrance. There was a young lad at the door, talking loudly. I presumed on a hands free or headphone phone. I thought, brilliant, someone has rung the bell so we won't have to wait. As I reached the door , there stood behind the secure door were all the care staff, the cook, her sous chef and all the cleaners. "We can't let you in with him there" was shouted at me. How bizarre. I then clocked the lad, obviously upset and not looking good, bruised and slightly worse for wear. Now my two personalities kicked in. Do I get mum in with less fuss or sort out the lad and see what was wrong. "We can't let you in, come back later" I simply turned to the lad and said do you mind moving to the car park whilst I take my mum in. He very politely walked away. We got in. To be greeted by we have rung the police, he is homeless you know, and a drug addict. He had conned his way in and been ejected. I quickly moved mum to lounge before she could hear. I then went back and asked if they had asked him any questions, no he is a drug addict. Now I know I am immune to some things, but that lad was obviously in distress. I went to look for him but he had gone. Why don't these people have any compassion. They were frightened. I realise that. But here was a lad who was looking for help. I told them what to do if he returned and gave them numbers for Wigan homeless shelter. I doubt they would ever ring. I just hope he doesn't sleep rough tonight. On my dad. He was very argumentative today, having auditory and visual halucinations. It was a short visit, usually a sign that he is very tired. For anyone else not in housing evading this, please don't make assumptions about homeless people. Just talk to them and see what help is available.

The Wrong Trousers

i toyed with the title of this post from I'm doomed through to the current wrong trousers. I have taken the week off. I did this partly because mum had appointment with psychiatrist but also because I wanted to see the care home during the week. So the jolly doomed bit. Well not only do I have a dad who has vascular dementia and can't remember more than 2 minutes, but I now have a mum diagnosed as delusional, not as simple as it sounds. Does this mean she thinks she can achieve above her ability, no, it means she has an altered sense of reality. Add onto this she is now being tested for Parkinson's! hopefully the dopamine inhibitors can explain this but she has to be tested. So as I said I'm doomed. After the jolly trip !!! Hope you got that joke , we went to see dad. He has had a really serous problem. Much worse than his dementia! His trousers were too small, so last week mum bought him five new pairs. But they are too big!!!! So the ladies in the conservatory have had thrills all week as his pants fell down every time he stood up!!! A great source of amusement. The carer who help us fit him, put him a belt on, but some just didn't bother. Consequently he has shown his under garments numerous times. I went and took all the pants in today. To you none sewing types that means made them smaller! Then tried them on. They were too small!!! Arghhhh!!! But no he laughed and said I'm not breathing in so you can't fasten them. See even in the right trousers. He has not lost his sense of fun.

Would you rest your legs on a stranger?

apologies for spelling and grammar, IOS 7 does not like blogger! If the answer is no, you are not my dad. But then again if you are reading this you are not my dad either. Today has been trying. The reality of the cost of permanent care has hit my mum. She can't understand why she should use her meager savings to pay, that is my funeral money she kept saying. I'm getting a solicitor . They can't take that. Now granted mum has planned almost state funerals for both of them but even so she does have a point. Pay to the point of poverty is just wrong. So all the way there she was bringing home home, despite the fact so is not mentally or physically possible of doing this. But, onto dad. Today was a bad day. His memory is appalling to the point after his brew and biscuit when I asked him to brush away crumbs, he asked why I threw them at him. He has virtually no short term memory left. But his long term is fading fast. He thinks he lives with mum and asked why she had gone to the shop, and when I asked what is for tea, his answer. Whatever mum makes. But he was happy and having a laugh with the care staff, they are really good with him. On leaving mum asked do he want to come home. No, I am fine here said dad. yes, she was upset!he had no idea what she meant as he thinks he still lives with her having a goldfish memory. Even though is is getting worst and more physically frail, he is still a happy man. Tries to entertain and apparently has good manners. That is unless you happen to be sat opposite him and he is sleepy, when apparently he nudges your legs a few times to move. If you don't he simply puts his legs on your lap and goes to sleep!!! Excellent!!!

My mum sent me a card?????

Well yesterday my parents celebrated their Diamond Wedding, 60 years! I had been planning things in the background for months. It appeared effortless on the day. Carer brought dad out of home to venue. Mum flapped so much she forgot her tights!!! Mini bus arrived without step so me and my eldest son lifted her into the mini bus, and out again! Without showing her drawers! It was really nice to see them together in a "normal" setting. Usual family scuffles ensued, what is a family meal without distant cousins fighting??? Not really, every one got on. But dad sat there, said hello to old friends, knew who they were and even cracked a few jokes, but ....... He didn't recognise any of his grandchildren. My children were very close all night as another grandparent died just before we left for the celebration. They hovered round those that are left, my eldest got asked numerous times if he was a waiter???? No I'm her grandson. Oh the joy of dining with an ageing population. I introduced dad to his 18 year old grandson. He had no recognition, then stared at me and asked why I hadn't told him I was pregnant! I hope he doesn't mean now??? He did however remember the old friends there and it was nice to see him so social. My highlight was showing him the message from the Queen, this is now a card with the Queen on the front. He looked, and said why has my mother sent me a card? Then winked at me to let me know he knew who it was. Of course my mum got all huffy and said it's the Queen. Something's never change. However, I feel I have to comment on his appetite. He started eating at 6 and did not stop until 9. He ate every last scrap on his plate, smiled chatted and even managed to cut the cake. It was a really good night , but also sad. No not just because of the demise of a grandma but because of the demise of my children's grandad. He will ever remember the joy he brought when they were young, daft grandad, but they will remember for just this reason, he doesn't know who they are. However after watch him eat, as for my post being Dementia ate my dad, last night he ate it right back!!!!!

Let me entertain you

Well I returned from holiday, and saw a huge difference in my dad. Confusion beyond confusion. As we entered the home he was asleep, apparently he now sleeps most of the time. On waking he looked ill and disorientated. He came round slowly and we started to chat. At 3pm he couldn't remember his lunch. I used my safety fall back talk of his son and grandchildren, he has daughters???? Don't be silly! Was the reply. My next attempt was the photos I keep to show him on my phone. After 30 minutes I ascertained he can't remember the last 19 years. He knew my husband from his wedding photo But not from recent ones, he didn't know my children at all, or my dogs. He was one of their buddies. The next challenge will be his diamond wedding. I know from his personality that he will say hello to everyone. But he will not know who they are. And sadly won't remember the meal by the time he gets to bed. However he still continues to be a source of entertainment where he lives. Apparently he entertained the residents to a strip in the lounge, they all sang for him. He would have loved that, he did once do a " turn" on the Christmas concert as the three degrees! He has always been an entertainer, I have cringed so many times at him dressed up as Frank Spencer, Shirley Bassey, a man with no back in his suit, and as a man riding an emu!!! All costumes home made and fab. He swore all through his speech at my wedding, telling risky tales, which for a man I never heard swear before or after the event was odd, but he was on stage, he had an audience. Well I don't think he will be turning up for the do in drag!!!not this time.

Back to life, back to reality

I have been on holiday for the past two and a half weeks and am now getting ready to return. It's been a really peaceful time away from reality. However part of me is dreading it. Not only will i miss the sunny days spent in the pool with my family, or trundling round on my bike but I have to go back to being the carer of a carer. I stopped phoning my mum after the first week when she asked, how much longer are you away? This guilt I can do without. I have put plans in place whilst I am away for her to visit dad, for someone to take her shopping and she even has a to do list to keep her busy. But when I phoned the people did not take her shopping, well it's not fair to take up their time, you will be back soon. But enough of that! The holiday has brought back happy memories of childhood holidays where I would spend all day in the pool with my dad. My mum didn't do water. However, my dad thought, as the youngest child in the group of families who we went on holiday with, I would make an ideal topper for the human pyramids we built in the pool. I could often be found on top of a five person high structure. No fear! I had no choice built I loved it. I may remind him of this when I see him him at the weekend. Well my three weeks of peace come to an end but it does make you realise what it has been like for my mum for ten past ten years having to care for a stroke victim who then developed dementia. The physical side was hard work, but dementia is something else! So I will go home, take her shopping, listen to her moans and complaints, pay her bills, organise her life and simply look forward to their diamond wedding anniversary party in three weeks. Now that will be a source of entertainment, how many people will he offend in one night, then normally look and wink because he knows he can get away with it.

Hot Gossip

Now those of you who have previously read this blog know my dad is now in an EMI unit. That's Elderley Mentally Ill. Dementia as mentally ill, I beg to disagree. This is not a state of mind, he has progressive vascular dementia that is caused a physical narrowing of the vessels in his brain. But hey , ho. He is in a care home, a really nice home, with lovely residents. And caring staff..... But today I saw things, I asked for an escort to the bathroom for him. No one came, but I did spy one carer doing the hair of another in the hair salon at the end of the corridor. So what if he wets himself when my mum is visiting, make sure you look good when you turn out tonight. But part of me thought, you must hav ethe patience of a saint to do this job. I am not a soft touch. But even I did not speak or complain about this. Luckily he was ok in the bathroom. But did I need to wait for him to go? Why did I not go with him??? I'm his daughter and he still has some dignity. I did however have to take him for a shave, no one had bothered to help him do that. This is a very expensive five star home. Goodness knows what the three star ones get. Anyway onto the purpose of this blog. Most of the residents have memory issues. Heck, last week it was, who can remember longest? One lady proudly announced, I can remember what we had for lunch! The only one. Today they told me how much dad had enjoyed the tennis final. I asked him, reply I never saw it. For the first time ever mum cried whilst there. The guilt of having a husband in care still bothers her. We were talking about their diamond wedding and she said to super memory lady, well sixty years I have done the best I could. Too right, she spent the last ten as a full time carer for a stroke victim who developed dementia. No easy task. No matter how sad it is, going visiting make me giggle. It really annoys mum that I laugh at memory challenge. What ever I say, very loudly as both her and dad refuse to wear their hearing aids, is the source of gossip. My parking ticket last week was a hot topic for,,,,,, three minutes before they forgot. After shopping mum asked me not to discuss things that happen as they talk about it, she does not want to be the source of gossip. As for me. I am going to think of more and more scandalous things to say. They sit all day in the conservatory, nodding off, bored. If my silly tales amuse them and get them chatting for three minutes then go for it. I just need to think of some juicy bits of gossip they can relate to. The high today, dads face when they asked if he wanted a shandy! Oh yes please. Then he forgot it was there, left and it got warm. Wasted! Dementia is bad, but not drinking in hot weather just make sit worse.

Those diamonds are starting to twinkle

The last few weeks have seen a massive deterioration in my dads memory, so much so ,that at times I think he is taking the mick. Some days are better than others but I now have a mother who is really unwell and that demise has been much more rapid than his. She is suffering from what I like to call careers lag. She reached the point of exhaustion that it affected her physically and mentally. The once ideas person of the family has in three months turned into an old lady, a really old lady. Her stance , speed of thought, general well being...... scream I'm old. Until four years ago she played 18 holes of golf each week at 80+. But the horizon is bright, in fact it is like a Swarovski crystal or even better. Yes it's just over two months to their diamond wedding anniversary. I have volunteered to organise. A local restaurant has been more than helpful, I need a copy of the wedding cert for a secret mission, I have a cover story, and the place that he now lives have an advert out for a carer to accompany him. But what I can't get is that she still does not accept he has a memory a goldfish would be proud of. It's sad that seeing him week after week, she flatly refuses to acknowledge that this is not going to get better So I made a decision, give her the party she wants, I know the normal dad always loved a party. I will get good food , good friends, and make her feel special. Yes my patience will be tried. Dementia is crap, not so much for those with it , but for those watching, but maybe I'm just selfish!

A Thankless task....Looking after dementia carers

I have thought long and hard about this post. I don't want to sound ungrateful or to moan. I have had a week off work, it's half term but my children are at an age where they don't surface until lunch, at the earliest. I decided I would try to do things with my mum. Previous readers of the blog will realise the situation. New readers here's a synopsis. Dad has stroke 11 years ago, 4 years ago started forgetting, 12 months ago diagnosed with advanced dementia. Mum looked after him. Psychotic breakdown ensues in March, he moves into full time care. I sit on the sidelines trying to support, shop, be full time administrator of their lives and now professional battler to get them what they deserve, are entitled to and need. Saturday, The week starts out well, I set out with mum to see dad but have to turn back, not feeling good and daren't take germs to home. I am confined to the sofa with that bug every one seems to have. Not one to be selfish I share with my family! Sunday we go to see dad. Mum seems very obsessed with everything going on in the home, all except my dad. Her fussing and flitting keeps her busy. She has always been active so this is her way of feeling useful, but he just keeps asking where's Betty? Every now and again flickers of his wicked sense of humour emerge. Monday crisis!!! Mum leaves the phone off the hook so her "friends" start ringing me and appear very judgemental that I haven't been to see her. I eventually get hold of her, one of her well meaning friends has been to see her and tell her her phone is off the hook. We have a laugh over her friends concerns, our motto is and always will be If they are calling us names they are leaving someone else alone. It never fails She agrees in true northern mum style to give me three rings if she is planning on going. Otherwise she will put the phone back on the hook when she next needs it. Since then, we have been shopping. Three hours in asda to spend £35. 30 mins in coop to buy milk. Yes she is lonely. But this has to stop. I am a hard daughter apparently. I have explained that unless she starts to go out more she may as well be in a home. Yes, I said I was a horrid daughter. This is a highly socialable lady, one who after four years of caring had a complete breakdown. But she has to go out. She does, but only with me, or one friend. The scooter from the Jenson Button move over blog remains static. But she has acquired three shades of nail polish to touch up a scuff!! Today we went to town, no not dancing in the street spending all our cash living the high life going to town. Actually went to town. She was very disorientated. It's worse than having a toddler without a safety rein. It's actually drains me as I am on high alert the whole time. Then we saw dad, he was great. Can't remember anything but looked really good. I now have to make sure I do not go the same way. Yes selfish. But I have seen what being a carer can do and I can't afford to go the same way as my mother. So I will continue to ring, take her out , and yet keep my own space and sanity. But for tomorrow, I am taking hr to the spa! I must be a glutton for punishment. But then again if she can see me she will be safe, and not worry.

How will you remember him?

As its dementia awareness week I thought I would try to put into words how I will remember my dad. For those who have read this blog before apologies if there is any repetition. He is the man who taught me to lay bricks, yes I can build a wall thanks to him. He took me to work from a young age and before I started high school I helped float a bakery floor and learned the importance of pegging out levels of a site. He also taught me I can do what ever I want. Yes, I had him under my thumb, like any daughter should! But if I wanted to do something he let me, or rather was probably convinced by his better half. It did me no harm. So long as I worked hard and earned my cash, how I spent, for spent read wasted it, was my business. If you can't go to school you can't play out. Both parents taught me this. But dad in particular came home with some gruesome injuries, screwdrivers in eye, missing finger tips, which is why when aged ten I sliced my thumb in two ( I still have scars) he ran it under the tap, put a plaster on it and sent me back to school. it's nowt! He never looked at me like I was a girl. He spent hours showing how to perfect dovetail joints, yet never complained when I needed a dressing area. I soon got over that. But I can still do an awesome dovetail joint. On holiday as I was the youngest I had to go on top of pool pyramids, but he was the first to make sure I came up for air, even on a five tier one. I was never allowed to be soft. He drove me to uni one term, as I blasted The Smiths.. Girlfriend in a Coma.... Out of the stereo... Oh yes, he upgraded the eight track. What the bloody hell???? As he hit a row of traffic cones. He almost fainted as my husband asked for my hand in marriage, then went to bed and never answered. That will go down in history. And a note to all bikers, don't rock up in full leather and ask a dad for his permission. He renovated my houses, looked after my kids, hand carved rocking horses, built housing estates, bakeries, supermarkets, and had a marriage most would kill for, and two great kids, four grand kids and more friends than you can shake a stick at. But most of all he is my dad and made me what I am today! Objectionable, strong with a wicked sense of humour.

Acceptance

A eventful two weeks indeed. Those who have read previously blogs may realise the situation, for those who don't a quick recap. He has stroke 10 plus years ago, recovers but needs full time assistance. She looks after him. He develops dementia 18 months ago, not early onset, full blown, memory span of goldfish, dementia. She gets ill, goes in hospital psychotic breakdown ensues. He is put in care. She says he will come home. Well mum had been slowly recovering from her breakdown, slowly may appear as normal,but really slowly. She is now living alone for the first time in 59 years. She has lost all confidence to the point she is reluctant to go out. I have encouraged independence . She bought a scooter, read the move over jenson button blog for the details of that. The scooter I fear will gather cobwebs and never get used. I asked this week if she had tried it. Her response I will go on it in my own time I will not be forced. And yet she stays sat in the house, no TV on , no radio just blankly sitting in a chair imagining problems, and feeling guilty at not being able to care for her husband. New ones this week include her neighbour cutting down her trees, he does but only the bits hanging over her fence, another neighbour having a window fitted to their garage to spy on her. really, it's at the back of your garage and unless you will be up to no good in the garden all they can see is the grass growing! But last week she went back into hospital. It was really weird. On the approach road she said where's Peter? He is my other half, who apparently left during the last hospital stay. He is at work, I replied. He said he would guide us in. Odd. Once in the waiting area she constantly asked where he was as she could hear him. He was the other side of Manchester. I filled the nurse in on the previous hospital stay and said she is now medicated and to reassure her. The day after she had her operation she slept a lot. I stayed away, visitors seem to make her worse and more paranoid. On the next day I rang to see if I could collect her. Come down and we will see, we may need a psyc consult. What's happened? She kept the night staff up looking for me in cupboards, bathrooms and any other door she could open. I went to get her quickly . She's home again, but not my mum. I took her shopping yesterday and it's worse than having a toddler. I am constantly looking whe she is. Stay here until I come back! is said a lot, as she has mobility problems and struggles walking, but forgets most things until you are four aisles past the item she needs. I asked her if she wanted to go see dad. Oh no, she said. I went yesterday he's having a ball in that place. All guilt forgot I think she has accepted he can't come home and is really happy in the home. Never goes out eh? Maybe I am being led a merry dance. Lets hope now the guilt is gone, she can get back to normal. Oh and look out village I may get her on the scooter yet!

Acceptance, some never will

"Use it or lose it". whilst pointing at your head. This is my mums way of telling my dad to stop being forgetful. No matter how many times she is told he will not improve she insists on saying it. It now just annoys me. We went to see him yesterday. His greeting for me, you are putting weight on, granted I will never be a ballet dancer, but really! But compared to me at 18 .... He has a valid point. I sometimes wonder if she visits because she misses him, or if she can tell her friends she has. When there she fusses over everyone but him. But it is her way of feeling useful. She picked holes in everything. Whose slippers are those? He looks, says "mine, you should know you put them on me last night". She obviously hadn't, but if he thinks she is there all the time, that's a result. Yesterday she took him Jaffa cakes, he was thrilled , five times in thirty minutes!!! to discover them in the bag. He hid them under his chair, " you can't leave anything in this place people take them" being his excuse. He looked content, quiet but content. He chatted to me like a man confused, I am not sure he knows who I am. But always the gent, he is pleasant and even attempts a joke. Whilst there he was called to tea. The careers came to take him in the dining room and he came alive, he was laughing and joking like he used to. This really upset my mum as she couldn't understand it. But he is happy. I acknowledge he has the memory span of a goldfish, accept it and just chat. I don't think she ever will. On the journey home we chatted about home coming home. I told her he never can, her mobility is failing. But she just said its lonely. Oh, and on leaving I told the carers about the Jaffa cakes, before they get a shock at finding random biscuits possibly growing new life forms, as he is good at hiding stuff. Because I know he forgot the minute his hand left the bag.

Move over Jensen Button!

We may have a high speed hero in the making. Yes I know I normally blog about Clem. But today's is about the funniest thing I have seen in months. Even Betty giggled. This weekend I took mum to see dad to the home. She was very nervous and spent 3 hours in asda trying to put it off. We finally arrived and he was looking good. Pretty fine in fact. Clean, tidy and apart from am I coming home questions, was in good form. They held hands through the visit, something I have never seen them do before. They obviously miss each other, but, at this stage, are better apart. Her parting words, well know I know he is ok I can let friends come. But today I took an hour, which turned into the whole day, to take her to the doctors. He gave her the memory test, she passed with flying colours, he thinks her problem is stress related. Then came the funny bit. She had seen a scooter for sale. She had bought it unseen at a bargain price. We had to pick it up. Quite a boring task. Oh No. The lady sat my mum on the scooter to explain the gears and accelerator, next minute mums scooter had mounted the lady's new one, bent bull bars, or rather hamster bars, chipped paintwork. And me wide eyed and trying not to laugh. No injuries but an old guy wishing he has reversed it out the garage without letting her sit on it. She promptly paid and scooted off home. I drove, chuckling all the way.

You are married?????

Well I went to see dad today in my lunch hour. He seems chirpy enough. I started to tell him about my eldest sons birthday. He asked his name , I answered. I asked him to guess how old he is...... His reply who is he? I said he is my oldest child. Have you got married??? The reply... He now thinks he lives in his childhood house, has no recollection of grandchildren, my marriage 21 years ago almost, he is going back in time I have a feeling this is just going to get worse So I will continue to visit, put more pictures on my phone .......and repeat myself .......a lot

When carers can't care anymore

After 16 days and a failed procedure to sort out her physical problem my mother has been discharged. It's been an interesting two weeks. But apparently she is fit to be released with daily visits from CPN. I have left her with meals for a week, yes I will be visiting during this time but bulk cooking is easier. Today was great fun, I arrived with her shopping, no answer. I rang the doorbell and her landline and mobile no answer. I rang her friend, she wasn't there. So I rang Mr B who zoomed down to come in house with our keys. Even though she is my mother I do not like to use keys to her house unless agreed in advance. I think it is rude and would hate anyone to use keys to mine. She was snoring in bed. Apparently the nurse who visited has told her she is not mental!!!! I doubt the nurse would say this but it makes her feel happy. She is not dressed, at 3pm. However she had some toast at 8am. I stayed and made her lunch and her tea. She is a shadow of her self, constantly retelling things over and over. This is not normal. I asked about the voices and noises she was hearing in hospital. She says these have stopped but she is having altered thoughts, this is clear from her discussions. I asked what the nurse said about the voices. She said the nurse never asked so she never told her. I think I need to see the nurse. Not only is my dad in permenant care now, but my mother is also disappearing and if I don't get a referral to the psychiatrist who specialises in elderly I will be screaming soon. She is however much better now she is at home. However I can't be certain if this is because she won't tell me, the drugs working or she is genuinely better. On a positive note dad is thriving. How long though will it be allowed that elderly are left to care for spouses until they reach breaking point, families can intervene but GPs should spot the signs and not ignore them. The elderly are not just regular visitors wasting your time, they are making a cry for help which GPs need to pick up on and intervene.

When carers go bad

What a day! My mum, carer for Clem, was taken ill 10 days ago. After a trip in the fast flashing ambulance she was delivered at hospital. Did I go with her? No, I couldn't I had to arrange respite for dad. Husband called, Clem was got up, showered and dressed and dispatched to what I now call Daddy DayCare. Thanks to a fabulous social worker who arranged the placement in 30 minutes. In fact getting him up and out was harder. Social workers get a bad rap most days but his is faultless so far, after a stream of time wasters, case closers and patronisers we have struck gold this time. I finally arrived at hospital to be told they were waiting for a scan and blood tests as there appeared to be a problem with her gallbladder and pancreas. Phew, painful for her but straightforward to fix, hopefully. That was 28th Feb, Thursday. Last Saturday I went to visiting to be told she could come home, I immediately spoke to the consultant and advised of her situation. If she is released she won't come back, she will find an excuse as this means Getting respite again and she is reluctant to do this any time. He agreed to keep her in until the MRI scan. Then Sunday came........ Confusion, voices' conspiracies events, lectures, garden parties, parties, protests, deaths........all fabricated. In the last week she has imagined....but believes to be true My husband left taking the kids, this was quite offensive to him. I died, obviously not, my dad died but seemed fine when I saw him today. Her ex daughter in laws mum became her best friend... Think not. Her best friend spent two days singing happy birthday on the carpark....her eldest granddaughter lectured every ward in the hospital....she is a beautiful speaker ...... The list goes on.......a funny one my husband sees to prostitutes at night as his job. Why does he get all the fun dreams???? I took my dad to see her today, he has sever dementia. On the way back to Daddy Day care he said she looks unwell, and confused... She doesn't like to be on her own... Needless to say she has had a breakdown, that's what comes when society expects people to look after partners and siblings because it saves cash. In this case it is going cost the state so much more. Get well Betty, Happy Mothers Day..

Where's Betty?

Today has been one of those trying days . My mother was unwell last night but refused a doctor. I put her and dad to bed. He kept asking is your mum ok? I put him to bed with the words do not get up, do not let the bed get wet. Something as a child, I never imagined having to say to my dad, my kids yes, but not my dad. I left them and said ring early if you are ok otherwise ill be back. No call by 7 so I went back. She was still ill. Well not ill but really ill. She still said she was fine just a touch of a bug. Ambulance arrived, checked her, off to hospital for her. But then , dad. What to do? I can't get to hospital to make sure she is ok, when he refuses to get up. Two hours later I ring other half. Despite being in a really important meeting, and I mean life changing meeting, he came and helped. We got dad up. Cleaned him, stripped the bed, dressed him and kept answering questions..... Where your mum? Whŷ are you not at work? Is Peter not working? Is there more sugar for my tea? Trying to tell a man with an attention span of less than a goldfish that he is going into respite, thanks Rachel super social worker for sorting that at no notice, 30 times in 20 minutes what is happening. We thought he had it then he asked for his lunch.....not a clue . After repeating and reapeating she needs to go to hospital for medicine, he still didn't get it. Two hours later on arrival at respite care he still asked where's Betty? I wish her a speedy recovery because he has no idea where she is..........and misses her

X Ray Specs

Apologies for the delay in recalling my trip to the optician. I have tried and tried to make this a serious post but it still makes me laugh thinking about this particular adventure. Not cruel but taking any joy I can from the situation. Well he needed his eyes testing. I am roped in as official driver. Be warned all of you children who used mum or dads taxi, it will come back to haunt you. Mum goes in, I take dad to hardware store. Bizarre conversations ensue. We had gone to buy a clock but it took 30 mins as I was trying to get him interested in things in the shop. This is the man who built supermarkets, homes and was a specialist in restoration. On this day he clung to the bird food stall , wide eyed obviously frightened. I kept checking back on him every few seconds. We bought a clock and some cake tin liners , he does like cake. Then we got to the opticians, maybe I am mean but I couldn't resist trying the display glasses on him. The shop had a display of sunglasses in the window. So Clem became Roy Orbisson, well cool, but he said he could not see. So I tried the biggest comedy frames on him. These are really good I can see everything, came the reply. I told him they had no lenses in. Of course they do , he just didn't realise they were plain glass. So as I tried lots of pairs on him, I also cleaned his usual glasses. Eventually I put his glasses back on. These are fabulous so much better, came the response. Then we had his test, his optician was fantastic . He does need new glasses. But given he can't tell the difference between his readers and long vision lenses we just bought one pair. I kept repeating the optician questions, he just said sometimes I examine and rely on results rather than opinion, in a very kind way that meant. LISTEN STOP YOU ARE NOT HELPING. He did get new glasses, very trendy ones which he would hate, but allow the rest of us to tell whether he is wearing readers or not. I suppose you had to be there, but trying fake glasses on a man with severe dementia was a highlight of the weekend.

Inspired by Dirty Dancing ?

It has taken months to get my mum to face the possibility that my dad may need full time care. However she came round to the idea and yesterday took a trip to a dementia suitable home, very local. I had high hopes as his current respite Center is 40 minutes away.

 I rang last night and she would not discuss it, just said she was too upset to discuss. Strange, everyone I spoke to who had relatives in the home had really good reviews. It was too late to go round so I had to leave her.

 Tonight I popped round for a few minutes to drop off shopping so I asked why she was upset. She said the home was lovely, the rooms were nice and the lounge fantastic. I am not the brightest at times, so I asked what was the problem?

 Was is smelly?? (she has a heightened sense of smell, which unfortunately I inherited ) answer no. Was it dirty? She does appreciate a clean place, answer not that I noticed.

 Well as you can imagine I am now intrigued. Nice rooms, clean what more could you ask?

Well, what more could you say in this case.... Apparently whilst in the lounge she mentioned the D word. She admitted to strangers, that embarrassing illness that comes with greater longevity...... He has dementia!

 Well, blow me down, they didn't only go and show her the dementia day lounge. A small ante room to the lounge, no TV, although it has a window, with one small couch. They don't let them mix!!!!! No D folk on the main lounge!!!

 And that is why she is upset. I am sure there are many good care homes across the borough I live it, but was recommended, that's wrong. My dad and other dementia suffers are not second class citizens. They are people who have a condition. To their families they are the same as always. Only we can laugh at their stupidity at times, they laugh at times at their memory, if you are lucky...........but in the words of Patrick Swayzee ......nobody puts baby (or parents) in a corner!!!! He won't be going there.

A cracking day out

I usually post about my father, but today it's all mother related. As is usual on a Saturday I take her for her hair done whilst I clemsit. He was really bright today. Now more unstable on his feet, he still managed the bathroom alone, and managed to stand to ask, very politely , for a brew. But then I went to pick her up from her weekly hair appointment and take her for the "big shop" . Don't worry we made sure he was safe first. We spent 50 minutes at the fish counter in morrisons. Another 20 at the veg section, and even longer perusing meats and cooked goods. She has enough food for a few weeks. On the way home she repeatedly thanked me for taking her out. Very odd. It's not about the weekly shop though is it. It's about a few hours of normality where every decision is not about keeping another person safe. That must very exhausting. Imagine an adult with the skills of a 2 year old, and you as main carer at 86, being asked to do it all. Yes day care come for 20 minutes four days a week, but is that enough? Admitting you can no longer do it is more upsetting to admit than the realisation that dementia is only going to get worse. On a positive note, they loved the tea she bought and she may even treat herself to the mini bottle of red wine. I told her to have two!!!!

Kicked out of exercise class!!!!

Well, it's been a while since my last post but events of today have left me speechless!

Today , as is normal for a Tuesday he goes to exercise class. This is one of his regular activities to keep him interacting with others and most importantly to give my mum a rest. I received a phone call from my mum, panicking, to say the exercise class had rung to say he was unwell and needed collecting urgently. Luckily I was working from home so I was local.

I arrived to be told by the people attending how ill he was, oh he is not himself, he is not right. He looked one of the healthiest there.

I got to him and he was distant ,but fine, even had a chat and asked why I was there.

When will people realise that an 85 year old stroke victim with severe dementia will have vacant days when they wobble on their feet. On the way home he asked why he went to the class as the young woman does not know what she is doing, she's new he kept saying.

Thanks to that overreaction, I had to return a very confused man home to a distraught wife.

One very annoyed daughter!