So, it's Grand National Day and the sun is shining from a beautiful blue sky. We're at the in-laws as it's Saturday, and it really is a case of "if this is Saturday, it must be Stoke".
We arrive in the morning to find them agonising over the shopping list - there must be at least 4 things on it, but Freddie is worried it's too much, and will be too heavy for my husband to carry. I know he's a big strong lad, so manage to inveigle a few more items onto the list. David duly goes off to the supermarket, with carrier bags in his strong arms.
Meanwhile, it's a bit early to start lunch, so I suggest to Freddie that we have a sort out. She's always worrying about "all the stuff" in the house, so I suggest we tidy up either the pantry or her bookcase. She chooses pantry.
Now, I don't think there is a lot in their pantry, but Freddie panics that the shelves are all full, and it's all stuff they won't eat. So I get her to pass me all the tins of things she will no longer use - her cooking skills, along with her appetite, have diminished greatly with her dementia. I pack all the tins into bags, and it looks as though I'm off to harvest festival!
I then get in the pantry and give all the shelves a good clean - removing old cat biscuits from back of the shelves (and they haven't had a cat for many years!). Freddie rearranges everything back to how she likes it, and then panics that the shelves are so empty. I give her back 1 tin of tuna, and she seems happy again.
When David returns, the shelves fill up, and everything looks fine, and Freddie seems more settled.
After lunch (salmon, boiled potatoes, green beans followed by something and custard, as it is every Saturday), we coax Freddie and Bill outside, to sit on the bench in the sunshine. It is so peaceful and quiet - all we can hear are the birds singing.
We're out there for ages - nails get cut outside, tea gets drunk, they all reminisce about laying the drive. I look at Freddie, and notice that for the first time in months, she isn't fidgetting. No rocking, no scratching her arm or head, no wringing of hands of clenching of muscles. She looks almost serene, calm and happy, and it's lovely.
4 o'clock comes, and Bill wants to go in to watch the Grand National. Freddie wants to stay outside in the sunshine. She and I stay out a bit longer, until the horses are lining up when we go in.
It's been a lovely day, and I'm hoping for more sunshine next week, when we will perhaps tackle the bookshelf!
take care,
Showing posts with label Dementia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dementia. Show all posts
Sunday, 11 April 2010
Sunday, 4 April 2010
Not Going Out
It's Saturday, so it's Stoke.
It's a lovely sunny day, so after lunch we suggest going for a walk. We used to go every Saturday after lunch - not far, just round the block really - but over winter we've not been out much, and Bill's hernia makes it painful for him to walk far. But it really is georgeous weather, so we're determined that today will be our first walk of the season.
"Come on, let's put our shoes on and go for a walk!" sounds like an innocent enough phrase, but the way Freddie reacted, you'd think I'd shouted "Come on, let's get our guns and murder some puppies". We had strident "no"s, petulant feet stomping, accusations of bullying and even some lip pouting. At that moment Freddie looked 9 not 79.
Then her eyes lit up - clearly an excuse had occured to her. "I don't have a coat that fits" she says with triumph. David pulls a coat from the closet. "It's too small" she says. David pulls a different coat from the closet. "It's too thick" she cries. We tell her this won't matter, as we're not going far, only round the block. She reluctantly puts it on, and away we go.
It really is lovely outside, warming up with the spring sunshine.
We turn the first corner intending to literally go just round the block when Freddie pipes up "let's go up to the next street and round". This makes the walk about 3 times the distance - which just goes to show - getting out the door is way more scary than the walk itself.
It's a good job sunshine is an antidote to frustration!
take care,
It's a lovely sunny day, so after lunch we suggest going for a walk. We used to go every Saturday after lunch - not far, just round the block really - but over winter we've not been out much, and Bill's hernia makes it painful for him to walk far. But it really is georgeous weather, so we're determined that today will be our first walk of the season.
"Come on, let's put our shoes on and go for a walk!" sounds like an innocent enough phrase, but the way Freddie reacted, you'd think I'd shouted "Come on, let's get our guns and murder some puppies". We had strident "no"s, petulant feet stomping, accusations of bullying and even some lip pouting. At that moment Freddie looked 9 not 79.
Then her eyes lit up - clearly an excuse had occured to her. "I don't have a coat that fits" she says with triumph. David pulls a coat from the closet. "It's too small" she says. David pulls a different coat from the closet. "It's too thick" she cries. We tell her this won't matter, as we're not going far, only round the block. She reluctantly puts it on, and away we go.
It really is lovely outside, warming up with the spring sunshine.
We turn the first corner intending to literally go just round the block when Freddie pipes up "let's go up to the next street and round". This makes the walk about 3 times the distance - which just goes to show - getting out the door is way more scary than the walk itself.
It's a good job sunshine is an antidote to frustration!
take care,
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Lovely People
I officially joined The Alzheimer's Society today. I just called them and asked to join - the lady on the other end of the phone was lovely. So, I'm all signed up and I'm looking forward to getting the monthly magazine, Living with Dementia. I'm hoping it will help us cope with some of the things we have to deal with, such as the irrational ideas, which are very fixed, and can't be changed.
My Mother-in-Law was diagnosed with vascular dementia about a year ago, maybe less, after spending almost 6 months in a geriatric assessment unit. Although her behaviour has changed over this time, and the medication seems to be helping with some of the worst symptoms, there are some things which we find very difficult.
Every week we have the same discussions. One of the main ones is about rubbish - Mum is convinced that there isn't enough room in their bin, and always wants us to take some of their rubbish home to put in our bin. I think, at most, they half fill 2 bin bags before the bins are emptied, so there is plenty of room.
This spills over into "don't bring me anything, how will I get rid of it" - when we gave her some hyacinths for Mother's day, they were met with immediate panic about getting rid of them. We had to promise to take them away when they stopped flowering.
So I'm looking forward to any advice we can get - or at least to get a feeling that it's not just us who are going through this, and that we're not alone.
My Mother-in-Law was diagnosed with vascular dementia about a year ago, maybe less, after spending almost 6 months in a geriatric assessment unit. Although her behaviour has changed over this time, and the medication seems to be helping with some of the worst symptoms, there are some things which we find very difficult.
Every week we have the same discussions. One of the main ones is about rubbish - Mum is convinced that there isn't enough room in their bin, and always wants us to take some of their rubbish home to put in our bin. I think, at most, they half fill 2 bin bags before the bins are emptied, so there is plenty of room.
This spills over into "don't bring me anything, how will I get rid of it" - when we gave her some hyacinths for Mother's day, they were met with immediate panic about getting rid of them. We had to promise to take them away when they stopped flowering.
So I'm looking forward to any advice we can get - or at least to get a feeling that it's not just us who are going through this, and that we're not alone.
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