Several months ago my wife rang the police to report that I had murdered two people and had buried them in the front garden. A police car soon arrived with two constables who at once took me into another room for questioning. I told them that my wife had severe Alzheimers. They contacted her doctor to confirm the diagnosis and made a report to Social Services. My wife could not remember ringing the police. I am considering removing all phones except the one in my bedroom.
Oh, John - I feel for you - we had very similar experiences! Mil had a 'thing' about ringing the police to report all sorts of wild accusations or imagined situations. Although I had contacted the police, and explained the situation, when an elderly lady rings them to tell them that she is being 'held prisoner' and is 'black and blue' from the beatings that I and her son had been giving her, however, they are obliged to come out and check it out. A few times I was making cups of tea at 2a.m. for the local bobby's - got to the stage where with a couple of them, we were on first name terms and I knew how many sugars they did or didn't take in their cuppa's. Even when she was in hospital, she managed to call the police from one of the ward phones, and report that she had been kidnapped!
Pheobe, I am so sorry that these awful confabulations and accusations have been levelled at you, and everyone else who has posted about them here. And I take my hat off to all of you who have selflessly cared for a parent who you haven't had a good relationship with - I don't think I could have done that.
My situation was in one way very different. Almost since we first met, my Mil and I had been such good friends, and until the dementia, she was so supportive, and kind and always there for me, my husband and our children. We had occasionally heated 'disagreements' about her spoiling her Grandchildren - but lets, face it, there are far worse faults a Mum in Law could have!
But confabulations and delusions were (and sometimes, still are) a massive part of Mil's dementia, and they were one of the earliest symptoms. As is often the case, they were frequently paranoid, and - very hard for me to come to terms with - I was nearly always the main villain in whatever scenario her mind came up with (though her son, my OH, and even her grandchildren were also accused of some awful things on occasion). Before she came to live with us, and before the extent of the dementia was known to her friends and neighbours, over the space of about 18 months/2 years I went from being the best DIL ever, to the person who had spent her whole married life trying to 'keep Mil away from her Grandchildren', 'drive a wedge' between her and her son, and a gold diger who was determined to part Mil from her money in any way I could. She would (I later found out) come up with incredibly detailed and convincing 'reports' of things that she claimed I had said or done, going back years, to support these accusations. When a social worker was somehow able to convince Mil to accept visits from home carers, Mil told all and sundry that I had organised it, behind her back, and was doing it to try and make it look like she was going mad.
Once she came to live with us, the delusions and paranoia increased as her dementia worsened, and I don't think that there were many things that I wasn't accused of over the next 3 years - I beat her, stole from her, tried to poison her, told lies about her, starved her, and locked her in a room with no toilet. If her bed was wet, chances were that it was because (according to Mil) I'd 'sneaked into her room in the night, and poured water over her as she slept'. I managed to intercept her dialing 999 on one occasion, when she was about to inform the police that I'd murdered a baby - a baby that simply didn't exist in the first place. It was scary at times, because these accusations were made so convincingly, and with such detail.
But over and above everything else the delusions and confabulations were so hurtful. And they were often accompanied by her telling me how I had never been good enough for her son, how she couldn't believe that her son had married someone who 'looks like you', how she had 'never liked' me, how I'd never been able to cook and it was a wonder that my children hadn't starved to death, how I'd spent years keeping her apart from her son/grandchildren and how 'the Lord will never forgive' me. Mention a holiday that we had taken together, for example, and Mil would usually come out with some ficticious event from that holiday where I had said or done something outrageously awful to her.
I can tell myself that this was the dementia, not Mil, till I'm blue in the face, but it really hurt and upset me at the time, and even now, I sometimes wonder how much of what she said maybe did reflect what she really thought of me for all those years, when I thought we were friends. Its tainted the memory of the relationship we once had, made me question it, and that's the worst thing for me.
Pheobe, I was able to care for Mil in our home for 3 years because I used to have such a fabulous relationship with her, because she had (pre-dementia) treated me so well and we were close. I think that you are amazing to have have put so much effort into caring for your Mum when your relationship with her was so difficult to start with. The advice to step back and let your brother deal with it for a while is excellent - you have done as much as could possibly be expected, and you need some time to recover and heal now, hun xxx
