I registered days ago, and since then I have been reading with interest all of your postings. I think that now I have discovered TP I may at last have found someone to talk to.
My mother has vascular dementia. She was really only diagnosed 2 years ago, even though prior to that she had had an mri scan which highlighted a problem, and as a family we noticed definite changes.
Up until that time, my mother was a most amazing woman. Although only a housewife, she ran the large family home efficiently and lovingly, devoting herself to dad who she has known since she was 7 years old. She was madly keen on languages and attended weekly french and spanish lessons (she even tried her hand at arabic) at the local Adult Education Centre. On other days of the week she could be found either at the Gym, local Swimming Baths or her Tennis Cub, it was not unusual for sunday lunch to be delayed if mum was having to play in a mixed doubles. On shopping trips to town, she never left the house looking anything but immaculate, heels and handbag matching. When she and dad went to a black tie event, she would outshine every woman in the room. Mother was often compared to Audrey Hepburn.
Her decline was rapid, it started with the forgetfulness, denial that anything was wrong, misplacement of glasses, constant searching for her handbag which she had only just lain down, etc etc. Although it was behaviour that was out of character, it didn't seem worrying. As time went on, insisting on using two teabags instead of one to make a cup of tea and then replacing milk with dettol eek: ), not being able to manage the process of making simple meals, heating the electric kettle on the hob, constant phone calls to us children begging us to take her home (she confused her childhood home with where she had lived for the last 37 years) made us realise that there was a terrible problem.
Christmas 2005 I decided to take advantage of the festive season and take a fortnight off from my job. The morning I was due back to work, I received a desperate early morning call from my dad begging me to come and help. He had had a terrible time with mother not sleeping and acting so erratically that he felt he couldn't cope on his own. Since then I haven't gone back to work. Instead, I became a carer for my parents.
My mother and I have always been best friends, so when she started calling me skivvy and accusing me of wanting to steal her things, it hurt!
She no longer took pride in her appearance, her clothes were always stained and not buttoned correctly (if they had any buttons at all), I had to raid her drawers in order to wash her clothes. It was hard, really hard to see the changes, and I found myself getting cross with her, something I had never done before.
Still, I did have something good to look forward to. My husband and I and two young children were off on a holiday of a lifetime. We had booked 5 weeks in Oz, catching up with my husbands twin and new family. My dad wasn't looking forward to me going, but wished us well. after all I'm not an only child so he and mother wouldn't be completely without help. On the day of our holiday, I made sure I went to see them to say goodbye. I didn't know it, but that was the last time I saw my mother in our family home.
When I was in Oz, I received an email saying that mother had gone beserk and dad had agreed to her going into respite for a fortnight as he felt unable to cope on his own and with me due to come back when the fortnight was up it seemed like an ideal solution. Well, unfortunately it made matters worse and after an aggresive episode in respite, mother was admitted to hospital. Needless to say, I felt terrible! My family kept me informed and told me that there was nothing I could do. As we were staying with my husbands family, I didn't let on to anyone other than my husband about the situation back home, after all, I had to get on with things for the kid's sake. Since then, the way I deal with mothers situation hasn't changed. I don't confide with anyone as to how I feel. I keep it all inside, the emotion bubbling away waiting to explode like I know one day it must. The guilt has never gone away, maybe if I hadn't been the other side of the world, I could have prevented her being taken away..............the tears I keep for private moments have started to fall......I must regain composure, my husband will be back from work shortly, even though he is my rock, I prefer to keep this despair inside!
Ok, deep breath, moment has passed.
Mother is now in a home, dreadfull to see her there and even though I visit regularly, it's hard. She still knows me it seems.
Well, that's my story in a nutshell. If posting this message is the start of being able to cope with my mothers devastating disease, today will have been a good day.
LuluB
My mother has vascular dementia. She was really only diagnosed 2 years ago, even though prior to that she had had an mri scan which highlighted a problem, and as a family we noticed definite changes.
Up until that time, my mother was a most amazing woman. Although only a housewife, she ran the large family home efficiently and lovingly, devoting herself to dad who she has known since she was 7 years old. She was madly keen on languages and attended weekly french and spanish lessons (she even tried her hand at arabic) at the local Adult Education Centre. On other days of the week she could be found either at the Gym, local Swimming Baths or her Tennis Cub, it was not unusual for sunday lunch to be delayed if mum was having to play in a mixed doubles. On shopping trips to town, she never left the house looking anything but immaculate, heels and handbag matching. When she and dad went to a black tie event, she would outshine every woman in the room. Mother was often compared to Audrey Hepburn.
Her decline was rapid, it started with the forgetfulness, denial that anything was wrong, misplacement of glasses, constant searching for her handbag which she had only just lain down, etc etc. Although it was behaviour that was out of character, it didn't seem worrying. As time went on, insisting on using two teabags instead of one to make a cup of tea and then replacing milk with dettol eek: ), not being able to manage the process of making simple meals, heating the electric kettle on the hob, constant phone calls to us children begging us to take her home (she confused her childhood home with where she had lived for the last 37 years) made us realise that there was a terrible problem.
Christmas 2005 I decided to take advantage of the festive season and take a fortnight off from my job. The morning I was due back to work, I received a desperate early morning call from my dad begging me to come and help. He had had a terrible time with mother not sleeping and acting so erratically that he felt he couldn't cope on his own. Since then I haven't gone back to work. Instead, I became a carer for my parents.
My mother and I have always been best friends, so when she started calling me skivvy and accusing me of wanting to steal her things, it hurt!
She no longer took pride in her appearance, her clothes were always stained and not buttoned correctly (if they had any buttons at all), I had to raid her drawers in order to wash her clothes. It was hard, really hard to see the changes, and I found myself getting cross with her, something I had never done before.
Still, I did have something good to look forward to. My husband and I and two young children were off on a holiday of a lifetime. We had booked 5 weeks in Oz, catching up with my husbands twin and new family. My dad wasn't looking forward to me going, but wished us well. after all I'm not an only child so he and mother wouldn't be completely without help. On the day of our holiday, I made sure I went to see them to say goodbye. I didn't know it, but that was the last time I saw my mother in our family home.
When I was in Oz, I received an email saying that mother had gone beserk and dad had agreed to her going into respite for a fortnight as he felt unable to cope on his own and with me due to come back when the fortnight was up it seemed like an ideal solution. Well, unfortunately it made matters worse and after an aggresive episode in respite, mother was admitted to hospital. Needless to say, I felt terrible! My family kept me informed and told me that there was nothing I could do. As we were staying with my husbands family, I didn't let on to anyone other than my husband about the situation back home, after all, I had to get on with things for the kid's sake. Since then, the way I deal with mothers situation hasn't changed. I don't confide with anyone as to how I feel. I keep it all inside, the emotion bubbling away waiting to explode like I know one day it must. The guilt has never gone away, maybe if I hadn't been the other side of the world, I could have prevented her being taken away..............the tears I keep for private moments have started to fall......I must regain composure, my husband will be back from work shortly, even though he is my rock, I prefer to keep this despair inside!
Ok, deep breath, moment has passed.
Mother is now in a home, dreadfull to see her there and even though I visit regularly, it's hard. She still knows me it seems.
Well, that's my story in a nutshell. If posting this message is the start of being able to cope with my mothers devastating disease, today will have been a good day.
LuluB