This morning has already started with a bang. And it’s only 7:45 am.
M woke me up a few minutes after 7, calling for me to help him. He had another one of those monologues going from his bedroom: “Can you please help me? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. The girl is going to be there and I’ve got to . . . I don’t know. I don’t know. Can you help me? I’m supposed to do the thing. I don’t know. How am I supposed to do this? The girl is going to be there. I’ve got to get there. I don’t know. Can you help me?”
Yeah – nothing like waking up to that.
Now he’s come down to the kitchen in a tizz over his hat. He was holding the hat in his hand and said, “I don’t know where this hat is. I don’t know. I don’t know.” Then he put it on his head.
So, I told him it was on his head. Well . . . obviously I don’t know what I’m talking about, because he’s gone back upstairs to look for it.
I talked to a business this week that helps you navigate getting your loved one into a memory care placement. They were very kind and very helpful and we’ve gotten the process started. And it IS a process.
I’ve had to start a claim with M’s long-term care insurance, then I’m sure he’ll have to see his doctor to verify that he actually needs this type of care. And, of course, whenever he goes to the doctor, he manages to pull himself together and act more like himself than he ever does at any other time.
And then the doctor thinks that I’m the one with the problem and that I’m trying to rush him out of the house.
But he doesn’t know what it’s like living with this. And how this weekend will be, now that M has it in his mind that he is supposed to meet the other girl somewhere. It’s all I’ll here about all weekend. He’ll stress about it and fret over it and want me to take him somewhere to find the other girl . . . but there’s no where I can take him that’s going to satisfy him.
It’s going to be a miserable weekend.
Keep yourself safe. I know this is a terrible and difficult situation, but please keep yourself safe if he shows signs of aggressiveness. I’m praying for you and for a quicker path to getting him into a memory care facility. Just know that people are praying for you.
Thank you – that truly means more than you’ll ever know. Sometimes I feel so alone – but I know I’m really not.
https://www.agingcare.com/questions/person-with-dementia-acts-normal-in-public-153623.htm
That is a link to a couple of posts that refer to what I used to call “spotlighting” about my father’s behavior. This person calls it “show-timing”. My dad could be befuddled and unglued in time and space but when I took him to the doctor he pulled himself together, sat up straight, had a big smile, and told the doctor he felt great. It took 2 years for the doctor to see through the behavior because visits are so rushed and short. I feel for you. It also happens with family members. I would call my sister telling her Mom called me talking nonsense and saying (deceased) family members were coming to dinner. When my sister would call her a few hours later she would be as lucid as could be, then hang up and be imagining things. It is crazy making. I feel for you and the other girl.
Fortunately, for me, my sons are all seeing the behavior, so I don’t have to worry that THEY don’t believe what’s happening. It’s getting the doctor on board. One of my brothers suggested videoing a time when he’s acting out and then letting the doctor see him “in action.”
Just show this blog to the dr. That should convince anybody that you need help before anything bad happens.
You would think, right?
Found you via Insta today, and was reading some of your 2019 posts about getting a diagnosis. I’m in such familiar territory with my husband now, though we don’t have a definite diagnosis yet, Neurologist is thinking it’s likely Frontotemporal Dementia. He’s 62, & we have an almost 16 year old son, this came on REALLY fast, he’s a different person than he was in April. So far, many rounds of labs, 2 MRI, EEG & lumbar puncture with “nothing out of the ordinary” on any, though he without a doubt failed the neuropsych screening at his initial Neurologist visit. PET scan is actually tomorrow. Feel incredibly guilty that I’m hoping it shows SOMETHING. Kinda like the other girl scenario, he’s very angry with me that I told “her”(the neurologist) that he mumbles, and that’s why he can’t drive. Thank you for sharing your story.
I am so, so sorry you’ve joined this club. There’s really nothing worse. I know what you mean about wishing that SOMETHING would show up. Something you can fight against. This disease is like fighting against smoke. It just shifts and moves. I keep telling myself that one of these days, God will show him all the things I did to take care of him and he’ll appreciate it, but that doesn’t really help right now. Sending you love and hugs.
Definitely the least fun club I’ve ever been a part of. Love & hugs back to you and all the other members of this club. We need it.
We do – we really do! There ought to be some sort of service!