Dear Snuffy
I read your post with great empathy. We've all done it, lost our tempers and subsequently beaten ourselves over the head. Looking back, I think that although I knew Mum had dementia there was something inside my head that couldn't think in jumbly. Never forget, you are an honoured member of the UUpsygens (Pron. oopsijen), of which I am president (unelected), i.e. an unpaid, untrained, psycho-geriatric nurse.
A lot of the time is spent trying to reason with the unreasonable, control the controllable with the added burden of the emotional involvement. There's grief, pain, guilt and the rest. Bear in mind, that even the professionals don't do this job 24 hours a day and they can walk away, the best of them (few) satisfied with just a smile from one of their charges. I don't believe that having nursing experience or the skill as perceived by others is in any way a qualification for caring for dementia in a loved one. Ha! the carers in Mum's nursing home even think I could do it professionally - the Ha!? read one of my rants! Or, on second thoughts, DON'T!
My darling, funny Mum (Mrs Pumblechook) developed rather queenly qualities as she was waited on hand and foot, e.g. empty tea cup held in the air by the way of a request for a refill without a word said - I developed a mutter: the Queen is dead! Long live the Queen and did my own laughing at me! And if she didn't get her nightly scotch and lemo (her nightcap, she called it, but it was more of a Top Hat) a right old ding dong would ensue. One night when she had her party head on and we had left the room for minutes. she sought out a second drink unbeknownst to us. Later that night she collapsed and was whizzed to A&E and given every possible test and found physically sound in every way - it was a mystery. Then at home I discovered a highball glass of a mystifyng hue - a sort of absinthe and foam! It was fairy liquid and lemonade and she had drunk some of this. I can't think why, given there were was an adequate supply of metal polish under the sink - there's no accounting for peoples' tastes. Henceforth, she was called Bubbles! It was by this time that we realised that we/she needed some serious help.
I know it's harder than the hardest rock to laugh when all you want to do is sit down and cry but do it your own way. Failing that I refer you to the Humanism thread and the Joke thread wherein you will pick up a couple of good tips from members.
I've said it many a time, this site has been a saviour for my sanity and taught me that I am not alone in any of my thoughts or experiences, however good or bad and I've only used it for over a month! I don't think I'll ever be pink and fluffy but I am at least going rosie around the edges.
Remember, don't be hard on yourself
Lots of love
Chesca