Journey Through Dementia

Journey Through Dementia

Tuesday, January 14, 2014


This morning was a bit crazy.  I was frantically transcribing the interview and had to get to Atria by 10:30 because my cousin Denise was going to be there and we were going to try a Facetime chat with Peach, but she had a meeting to get to, so I needed to get the thing set up quickly (Atria has only recently offered wifi for guests).

I got to Atria a little late--about 10:45, but thought we could still reach Peach, but Niecie wasn't there.  I decided to get the call going anyway because Peach was waiting for me, but when I tried to connect, it said that she was not equipped to receive Facetime.  I tried sending her a text message, but it turns out, I just learned, that she doesn't have a cell phone, so I didn't reach her.

In the end, it didn't matter because by the time Niecie arrived, it would have been too late to call anyway.

Not really a noteworthy visit.  My mother told me on Saturday that her nails were so long she needed to have Niecie (who is a beautician) come and give her a nail trim, but on the phone she told Niecie she didn't need a manicure, so she didn't bring her equipment.  Then, over lunch, Niecie suggested they go together to a nail salon, which they have done before, and my mother refused to go.  Said she didn't need it, though her nails are starting to look like they are entered into a "longest nails" contest.

While we were visiting, the phone rang and my mother had a lively conversation with someone.  When I asked her who it was, she said she didn't know, but it was a "male relative" but she never caught his name.

I've talked with a couple of people recently who are disappointed that my mother isn't "getting better."  I'm surprised at that.  She isn't under treatment.  She just sits in her room.  And dementia isn't "treatable" anyway.  It can maybe be slowed down, but not cured.  Her stepson suggests we try an expensive herbal supplement for memory enhancement, which sounds like a lot of snake oil, but I told him I'd check it out.  Anybody ever hear of Phosphatidylserine?  I read enough about it to know that I wouldn't try to give her anything like that without a doctor's approval. Besides, she hates to take pills and won't even take Advil because she doesn't want to become addicted (yes, I know it's not addicted).  She'd rather live with her back   pain than take a pill and when I remind her that the medication helps control the pain, she just gets that flirty smile she uses on her doctors when she doesn't want to do anything they tell her and tunes me out.

She's her own worst enemy. I'm glad my dementia support group meets this week.

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