I thought dealing with a moody teenager was an exercise in lightning fast emotion changes. I had no idea that dealing with a dementia patient was going to be just as “exciting.”
Last night, M had the final night of his bowling league and it was very successful. His team has been in last place the entire season and we found out last night that the last place team “wins” toilet seat lids . . . because they were so bad, they were in the toilet. I know – not very original. I don’t know what happened to M and his teammates last night, but they managed to put together two of the best games they’ve ever had. In fact, they beat one of the better teams for BOTH games! It was amazing!
They did so well, they avoided the toilet seat award, and are all planning to come back in February to try again! It turned out to be a fun night for all.
We went home, it was about 9:30 by this time, so M got ready for bed and that was it. Very nice, very quiet. Just a great end to what seemed to be a great day.
And then I got up this morning.
Everything seemed to be good until I came down to the kitchen and he launched into a tirade. About a car.
“When am I going to get a car?”
“I’m getting sick of being around here without a car.”
“I HAVE to have a car – when are we going to make that happen?”
I tried all the usual lines about needing to get one for me first (still rapidly approaching 300,000 miles!!) and waiting to see what happens with my job and the changes around work before we do anything.
THAT went over like a lead balloon.
Finally, I lost all patience. I told him – you AREN’T getting a car. You have a disease that makes it unsafe for you to drive and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Which means, no car for you.
Well. If I thought the idea of waiting to get a car didn’t go over well, the suggestion that he wasn’t going to get one AT ALL was really the tipping point. Oh boy.
He was as mad as a hornet and at me. And it’s fine – I can take it. But at 7:30 am, when I haven’t had my coffee yet and I’m trying to get my work day started on a positive note, having someone railing at me because I don’t understand that they are PERFECTLY capable of driving, running red lights and getting lost has NOTHING to do with being a good driver and I don’t know what I’m talking about . . . it’s a bit much.
I understand that it’s boring to sit in the house all day – I wouldn’t want to do it. But there are plenty of places he can walk to with the dogs . . . and he won’t do it. I ask him every evening if he’s taken the dogs for a walk, and nine times out of ten, the answer is no. Well, no wonder he’s tired of being in the house. He never leaves it!
So now we’re both frustrated and annoyed. I don’t really want to go home this afternoon. And he has either forgotten about it or wants to argue some more.
There’s not enough coffee for this.
I’m sorry about that episode. I really wish I didn’t understand as much as I do.
This completely reminds me of when Tim and his brother, Jeff, had to take their mom’s keys away for the same reasons. It was not pretty. She was very combative and difficult to handle. We hadn’t realized how very blessed we were with my mom. My mom’s dementia was tough, but she was pretty calm throughout. Tim’s mom was definitely not, and the challenges were so difficult. We’re sitting with you, holding you emotionally, my friend.
I realize how lucky I am with M. Some women have had to call the police because their husbands have attacked them and threatened them. Thank God I haven’t had one moment like that at all. He was upset about the car, but it blew over as quickly as it blew up. He usually gets sad and melancholy before he gets angry. Still not fun to deal with, but easier than violence.