DJ’s memory isn’t any more – well, not his short term memory. This brings endless frustration – not for him, because he doesn’t tend to remember that he can’t remember – if you see what I mean.
If You Live With Dementia you will know this one.
Like me an’ TH, you will no doubt find it difficult to understand, and astonishingly difficult to remember that DJ doesn’t actually mean to forget, nor intend to frustrate us. I’m also absolutely sure that he doesn’t intend to irritate the heck out of us. But, I confess, it happens.
So, for example, he forgets that he is getting dressed, and takes his clothes off again when he was almost fully dressed ……. like this morning when I nipped thru to the kitchen to check the porridge wasn’t burning – only to get back to him and find the tie off, all the buttoned shirt buttons undone again, shoes off and All Systems Go For Bed – an unbelievably reliable occurrence when getting him up to meet a deadline !
So how – HOW – when he is so so good at forgetting everything, does he remember the ‘Recurrent Themes’ ?
Like “When am I going home” ?
DJ goes to a Dementia Day Care Centre - well, it's actually the assessment centre, but there seems to be nowhere else that will accept him for day care now – our local Specialist day centre expelled him for being disruptive during his probationary six weeks……. fortunately the assessment place is being kind enough to us to keep him going along Mondays and Fridays at the moment………..
ANYWAY…. the staff deal with DJ’s repetitive “When am I going home ?” question by putting numerous pieces of paper in his pockets saying such as ‘we will take you home at 3pm’. What they don’t want to know is that after he gets home here this very self-same question continues over and over and over again for the next 3 hours or more……
I remember the last time TH took DJ back to his former home in a more northern city – where DJ had lived fifty years and more, and where TH lived and grew up – a well-kent place. But DJ was completely lost, couldn’t find the bathroom in the 2-bedroomed flat, wandered, fretted, wouldn’t settle or sleep…… so poor TH gave up on the Intended Tasks, headed back southwards and arrived home here absolutely exhausted after their 36 hours away….
Dementia is a poor trip. “Home” does not seem to be a place that he can go to for DJ any more, but a desperately vivid, unobtainable dream……….
If You Live With Dementia you will know this one.
Like me an’ TH, you will no doubt find it difficult to understand, and astonishingly difficult to remember that DJ doesn’t actually mean to forget, nor intend to frustrate us. I’m also absolutely sure that he doesn’t intend to irritate the heck out of us. But, I confess, it happens.
So, for example, he forgets that he is getting dressed, and takes his clothes off again when he was almost fully dressed ……. like this morning when I nipped thru to the kitchen to check the porridge wasn’t burning – only to get back to him and find the tie off, all the buttoned shirt buttons undone again, shoes off and All Systems Go For Bed – an unbelievably reliable occurrence when getting him up to meet a deadline !
So how – HOW – when he is so so good at forgetting everything, does he remember the ‘Recurrent Themes’ ?
Like “When am I going home” ?
DJ goes to a Dementia Day Care Centre - well, it's actually the assessment centre, but there seems to be nowhere else that will accept him for day care now – our local Specialist day centre expelled him for being disruptive during his probationary six weeks……. fortunately the assessment place is being kind enough to us to keep him going along Mondays and Fridays at the moment………..
ANYWAY…. the staff deal with DJ’s repetitive “When am I going home ?” question by putting numerous pieces of paper in his pockets saying such as ‘we will take you home at 3pm’. What they don’t want to know is that after he gets home here this very self-same question continues over and over and over again for the next 3 hours or more……
I remember the last time TH took DJ back to his former home in a more northern city – where DJ had lived fifty years and more, and where TH lived and grew up – a well-kent place. But DJ was completely lost, couldn’t find the bathroom in the 2-bedroomed flat, wandered, fretted, wouldn’t settle or sleep…… so poor TH gave up on the Intended Tasks, headed back southwards and arrived home here absolutely exhausted after their 36 hours away….
Dementia is a poor trip. “Home” does not seem to be a place that he can go to for DJ any more, but a desperately vivid, unobtainable dream……….
