I hate dementia nan. She makes me want to scream and throw things. I love my real nan, the one who gives me cuddles and gives me good advice. But dementia nan is a horrible, spiteful old bag. There I said it.
Last night was awful. Probably one of our worst nights ever. I am trying to encourage nan to wash her clothes more frequently. Towels etc she is OK with but seems to forget her dresses and underwear. I decided to sort out a basket with a note in so she could remember to put her dirty clothes in it every night. Came down a few hours later and she was hiding the note, then she told me I should find somewhere else to live, as obviously she is too dirty for me. Felt like crying. Spiteful dementia nan really is the worst.
Horrible thoughts cross my head, I wonder how she would react if I said what I feel like screaming at her: “Maybe instead of hiding the note like a petulant child, you should have spoken to me, ideally when I first suggested it instead of agreeing with everything. You were rude and spiteful when all I was trying to do was increase your independence. You want me to move out then fine, but there’s a list as long as my arm of things I do for you that you can damn well figure out how to do yourself, without burning the house down or hurting yourself: Fix the toilet flush, clean the toilet, wash the bathroom rugs, unblock the sinks, food shopping, cooking healthy dinners, order cefalexin from pharmacy, pick up cefalexin every two weeks, make sure you take cefalexin 4 times a day, pick up your tablets once a month, make sure you take tablets, make sure cat is wormed, make sure cat is flead, get cat to vets for jabs, order cat food, order cleaning products, hoover, dusting, disinfecting kitchen sides, putting the bin out Mondays, washing bed sheets, getting telly book once a week, running down the village when you run out of chocolate, rub gel into back, hair wash, ordering pads, check smoke alarm, check carbon monoxide tester, check lifeline, gardening, hanging out washing, ironing, calling doctor out, making sure bread and milk out, gave you my freeview so the telly worked when it switched over to digital, fix the tv ariel, save you money, sort out paperwork, stand up for you with carers. I’m the only reason you’re still at home and not in one, a little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss”
But of course I can’t say that, because dementia nan isn’t my nan. And my nan would be heartbroken to know I even think this sort of thing. But it is so hard to keep calm all the time. So I keep it all bottled in, ready to explode at any other person but nan. So my poor friends and family have to put up with my insane mood swings, because I am having to cope with nan’s. So apologies to anyone who has experienced these mood swings, and thankyou for your support.
Thankyou once again for reading, I apologise for the grim topic of todays post but I think it’s important to highlight the realities of dementia, and the feelings it can bring out in the sufferer and their families and carers.