Hiding Things

 

I remember when Shelley hid objects. She especially liked shiny things. Here she is with a blanket she loves.

Shelley once took weights from our house back to her facility. She hid them in her luggage, and then at the facility, she hid them under the airconditioner. 

She also concealed her laptop. She couldn't use it, but she buried it under clothes in her closet.

She took shiny objects from the displays around the facilty. The director would say, "Shelley, I'm going into your room to get the painted rocks."  She'd respond, "Okay."  Then later, she'd take the rocks back to her place.

Many with Dementia seem to have this tendency.  It's unexplainable. Why blingy, bright things?  Shelley doesn't do this anymore. She's past this stage, however, others in her facility enjoy coming into her room to look for stuff.

We affectionately call these people shoppers. They don't intend to take other people's belongings. Their sense of logic isn't what it once was.

Yesterday, Shelley's pretty blanket was missing. The staff looked into each room and finally found it.

One item that goes missing is her hair brush. I buy a new one often. I think it's gross when I find someone's brush in her bathroom. I've write her name on her brush and hope it stays in its place. 

When I went into her room recently, a resident was looking through one of her drawers. He was shopping.  Most of the things in that drawer are unimportant--like nail polish, and I don't care if it goes missing. I have all her jewelry and important items here at my house.

This disease is weird with how it affects people. 

Some of the stories I hear are as funny as they are sad.

One lady I know said her mom was hiding things and unplugging electronics. We try to give each other advice.

The most important issue is to remember it's not them doing crazy things. It's the disease.

Falling Down

 When the phone rings and my caller ID says "Shelley's Facility," I assume the worst.

I breathe a sigh of relief if the caller is calling to tell me she needs meds or supplies.

I cringe if the caller says, "Shelley fell a few minutes ago."

Falling is becoming a common occurance. She fell three times last week. Fortunately, she wasn't hurt. No bumps or bruises.  Once they found her lying down on her back. Perhaps she just got tired and laid down.

I told you about spending three days with her in the hospital back in May, 2022. She had cracked a facial bone with that fall. 

What am I to do? How can I help her?

I want her walking. If she stops completely, she loses all mobility and could get bed sores. I've complained about her staying in her recliner, but then she falls, and I wonder, "Should she stay down?"

Here' she is in her recliner on a good day.

When she's tired, she walks leaning to the side. I suggested that they put her in the recliner when she's tired. 

It's difficult to know what is best in these circumstances. Those of us who take care of loved ones with Dementia often consult with each other about conditions and proceedures. 

We agonize over decisions. Sometimes we feel guilty. Sometimes we feel relief.

God has asked us to oversee a loved one, and it's a huge responsibility. I don't know how people do it without God's help.

Big Smile

 I was a little afraid to go see our shelley yesterday.

I'd been ill with a pesky virus and hadn't seen her in about two weeks. Would she remember me? How would I feel if she didn't?

She was asleep in a recliner when I walked into the room.  I gently touched her, and she gave me a huge smile. Her eyes grew wide, and she said, "I've missed you, where have you been?"

Isn't that wonderful?  

It made me happy and sad at the same time. Happy because she remembered me, and sad because I had to be away so long.

Our loved ones need us there as often as we can be there.

I see a lot of the residents who seldom have visitors. People work, and it's difficult to come often.  For most of these folks, it is sad. They want to see and check on loved ones.

Of course, there are other relatives and friends who don't want to see their beloved in a facility. These folks will not put on their big boy pants and do what's right.

They say, "I don't have time." Or, "I don't want to see her that way."  I've heard this: "I want to remember her the way she was."

Fine and dandy. But what about the person who suffers with dementia. It is a strange disease, and there are more memories in the brain than they can vocalize.  I'm convinced that many of them remember friends and family even though they don't know the names. 

Shelley gets confused, but she has the right concept when she calls me daddy instead of mom.

As hard as it is to see your loved one in this condition, do it!

They need it, and so do you.