Can I just say "I hate this disease!" It breaks my heart to watch my father deteriorate before my eyes!
When dad was first diagnosed with dementia, I used to wonder what it would be like...would he just wake up one day and not remember me? Now that we are in the middle of the journey, I see that it is a slow progression. We are at a very frustrating point in the deterioration. Dad's memory is continuing to get shorter and shorter, but his sarcasm is still very sharp!
It's 11:00 and I am the only one up, sitting out here in the living room with the lights out and the TV on while I do some work on the computer. Dad has gone in to his room to go to bed three times now. He is in his pj's and his dentures are already soaking, but he keeps coming out of his room with his flashlight looking for something. When I ask if I can help him, he doesn't know what he's looking for. Add that to the fact that I can barely understand him with his teeth out & he gets very frustrated with me. The last time he told me he was looking for something for his flashlight. Well, it can't be batteries he needs because it is working, so I ask if he's looking for a leather strap for it. (Dad has put a leather strap on every tool in his room. He has a bucket full of leather pieces and lacing that he uses to make and re-make straps for all his flashlights, tools and water bottles.) He tells me, "Yes, that's it." I take him back to his room, and when I open the door, there on his bed is the leather strap he just took off the flashlight! He tells me it's too short (because he just cut it in half with the scissors that are laying beside it), so I get out his bucket of leather strapping to get a longer piece. As I am getting the bucket out for him, I tell him it's late and he should probably put it all away and work on it in the morning. Big mistake!
Lately one of the things dad does, is take something someone else just said and remember it to be his idea. As I set the bucket on his bed and take the lid off, dad asks me what it's for. When I show him that there are longer straps in it he starts going off on me about how he knows what's in the bucket, because he's the one that put it in there. And that's where he got these laces to start with and that's where he was going to put them now, because it's late and he should go to bed.
UG! I was only trying to help! All I could do was stand there, bite my tongue and hold back the tears. I hate this disease!
I should add that usually when dad has been sharp or mean he is also quick to apologize. And every night as I turn down his bed and get his denture cup ready for him, he tells me how grateful he his for me.
When dad was first diagnosed with dementia, I used to wonder what it would be like...would he just wake up one day and not remember me? Now that we are in the middle of the journey, I see that it is a slow progression. We are at a very frustrating point in the deterioration. Dad's memory is continuing to get shorter and shorter, but his sarcasm is still very sharp!
It's 11:00 and I am the only one up, sitting out here in the living room with the lights out and the TV on while I do some work on the computer. Dad has gone in to his room to go to bed three times now. He is in his pj's and his dentures are already soaking, but he keeps coming out of his room with his flashlight looking for something. When I ask if I can help him, he doesn't know what he's looking for. Add that to the fact that I can barely understand him with his teeth out & he gets very frustrated with me. The last time he told me he was looking for something for his flashlight. Well, it can't be batteries he needs because it is working, so I ask if he's looking for a leather strap for it. (Dad has put a leather strap on every tool in his room. He has a bucket full of leather pieces and lacing that he uses to make and re-make straps for all his flashlights, tools and water bottles.) He tells me, "Yes, that's it." I take him back to his room, and when I open the door, there on his bed is the leather strap he just took off the flashlight! He tells me it's too short (because he just cut it in half with the scissors that are laying beside it), so I get out his bucket of leather strapping to get a longer piece. As I am getting the bucket out for him, I tell him it's late and he should probably put it all away and work on it in the morning. Big mistake!
Lately one of the things dad does, is take something someone else just said and remember it to be his idea. As I set the bucket on his bed and take the lid off, dad asks me what it's for. When I show him that there are longer straps in it he starts going off on me about how he knows what's in the bucket, because he's the one that put it in there. And that's where he got these laces to start with and that's where he was going to put them now, because it's late and he should go to bed.
UG! I was only trying to help! All I could do was stand there, bite my tongue and hold back the tears. I hate this disease!
I should add that usually when dad has been sharp or mean he is also quick to apologize. And every night as I turn down his bed and get his denture cup ready for him, he tells me how grateful he his for me.
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