Earlier this week, I found myself in an interesting
conversation with Jon. Jon’s an
interesting character anyway. He’d just
called round on the off-chance, for a cuppa, and to pass the time of day.
I usually ask him how work’s going, because he’s
self-employed doing painting and decorating.
And then I ask him how his parents are doing. They live in Chalfont, and Jon’s father is in
his 90’s, so the question’s usually relevant.
Jon’s a fit guy (for 60), and seemingly his father enjoys the same constitution. Just a year ago, he bought a new BMW 5-Series
to tootle down to the village for the morning newspaper. Ambitious, is the word I’d choose. Jon, who’s single, gets to see then when he
can. This time he replied that his Dad
was getting forgetful, and related a couple of examples. Jon hoped this may be a stable condition, but
he wondered…
“I’ll tell you how it went with my Mum,” I offered. “She was in her late 80’s in an independent-living
flat in Hull, and we were visiting every fortnight. One day the warden called us over. “I found Mum wandering around the laundrette,
confused. Can I have a word with you?”
She went on to outline how dementia develops. “First, there’s denial. This can mean arguments and outbursts. Then there’s accommodation, when the person
just can’t cope, and they give in to being helped. Finally, they experience decline. This can be distressing because they’re no
longer the person you knew.”
“I know that Mum’s been a bit delusional,” I'd added. “She imagines someone’s moved stuff around in
the flat. And she won’t have it that she’s
had a lapse of memory. It’s her way of
filling in the gap – making sense - when she’s faced with a situation she can’t
reason through.” “No, it’s beyond that,”
the warden pressed.
“I suggest you arrange for her doctor to carry out a dementia
check. Get Power of Attorney sorted out, too.”
“Mum has spoken about maybe moving to Sheffield”, I added. “Get the doctor to comment,” was the warden's advice.
“So, Jon, I don’t know how it may work out with your Dad.” He nodded.
“There are important changes you have to face
yourself. First, elderly parents just have
to take up more of your time. Don’t
think that just because they’re coping okay now, it’s going to stay like that.” Jon and I had discussed this before.
“Second, you have to move from a position where you are
basically the child and they the parent, to one where they become your
dependent. That can be difficult.” I explained how I’d seen carers who couldn’t
be assertive in the way this transition requires.
Like I said, difficult.
“Third, you’ve got to get over any feelings of guilt and
loss, because ultimately the person fades away from you. You have to be emotionally independent.” I was okay here, because Mum landed in
Sheffield in quite a miraculous way. She
was in Cairn Home just a mile away. She qualigfied because she was registered blind. There
was nothing to regret.
Mary added, “I recall when Mum couldn’t remember me when I visited. It was very painful.”
“There’s one other tip that my friend Phil (who’s a
community psychiatric nurse and has specialised in Alzheimer’s), gave me,” I
added. “When they start to ramble on,
don’t contradict them. My Mum used to
talk about the children coming home from school.”
Jon rubbed his chin.
“I suggested to Dad that we should clear the gutters. When I got out the ladder, he insisted that
he knew how to do it better than I did. He was a top engineer, But there
was no way I could let him go up there!
Mum said I handled it well.” We
laughed. Yes, I think that Jon will handle it okay.
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