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Working Girl

As many of you will be aware, I have recently started working again. This was a decision that it took me a long time to make, I was so determined to be a full time carer to nan, but it was just making me poorly. And constantly so cross. So now I am working part time and we have external carers in.

I didn’t want carers in, it may not make sense, especially as we had them in Kent. But it took so long to find the carer that we both got on with and understood what we needed that I wasn’t willing to go through all that aggro again. Plus in my eyes, we may as well have stayed in Kent if we were going to get new carers in. The reason we moved was for mum and my sister to be more involved, and granted they both see nan at least once a week now, but I think I was hoping for them to take more of the burden so we could keep it as family rather than strangers.

I agreed to meet with the social worker though, to see what we could get to help. And dammit she was lovely, and arranged for the care package to start 3 days after our meeting. Met the carers, and they were lovely too, and more than willing to help. They took on board what nan said, and I felt comfortable enough to go out at the weekend. There was a mishap with the medication, but after one phone call that was all sorted. The care company here is already way above anything that I had expected. And so I’m feeling happier about having the extra support. Which is of course what they are here for.

In other news Diana is dead (does anyone remember our little plant we distilled the water for? She didn’t make it), so we grew our own tulips instead as they are much easier to care for, and they are already sprouting. Nan feeling very proud, I just hope they get a bit more care than the cut flowers where the water went mouldy. I didn’t even know water could get mouldy.

Nan is enjoying her baths, and is more than willing for me to help out. I had the less than glamorous task of wiping nans bottom yesterday, something which didn’t phase either of us. And I think the fact that it didn’t phase us made me feel a but sadder about it, not so long ago nan would not have even put her tights on in front of me.

When my sister asked what time I would be home from work my nan replied “Oh I’m not sure, she goes all over the back and the fields…” and then proceeded to ask my sister what her plans were for Christmas (ten months to go!). I think this was my sister’s first real experience of the dementia coming forward, as nan has usually remained quite lucid around her. It seems the more comfortable nan is with someone, the more the dementia shows itself.

And then there was nan’s trip out with mum, where she told mum she wouldn’t remember her soon. Mum and I joked about this after, that we could pretend to be famous. But it hurts that nan knows where she is going. We can all laugh and joke about it now, but I don’t think we will be quite so nonchalant when it happens.

I’m not sure what’s worse, the lucidity when she knows where the dementia will take her. Or the moments where the dementia is completely enveloping her and she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

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2 thoughts on “Working Girl

  1. I remember wanting my father to become blissfully unaware of his Alzheimer’s. I didn’t want him to get worse – I just didn’t want him to be frightfully aware of where he was, and where he was going. Once the disease advanced, my dad and I could simply create a new normal and fly by the seat of our pants from day to day. He was no longer depressed or anxious about what the disease was robbing him of.

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