A tailor came to measure Dad up. He's local with a good reputation.
I thought from what he said when I contacted him that he understood the issues surrounding dementia, but as he discussed what was needed, it became apparent that he didn't. Maybe he's only encountered mild dementia, or maybe he's only encountered dementia that affects someone almost entirely mentally.
I don't think he understands modern incontinence pants. I shall have to go to the shop, I think, and explain what happens when they expand. (He may think of them as like old-fashioned nappies where the urine spreads out, not as modern chemicals which expand leaving Dad with something like a bag of sugar between his legs.) Of course, it's possible he understood but didn't say.
He was convinced that continuing to wear braces was best for Dad. How to explain how much of a tangle a man with dementia can get into with a pair of braces? I tried to explain diplomatically but didn't want to embarass Dad.
You can, I'm sure, all imagine it even if your loved one doesn't use braces.
Picture Dad. He feels the need to urinate or defecate and probably isn't sure which. He struggles to stand, struggles to walk. Struggles to urinate standing. Struggles to get his braces off to sit down, whether it's to urinate or to defecate.
I guess the tailor's never worn pants without flies inside trousers with flies. It's not actually terribly easy to extract a penis that way.
As for the desire to replace hooks on the waistband with a button, I wondered how to explain to the tailor that there can come a point in life at which a button is a mystifying thing, at which if you have a button to undo, you have to press the buzzer and wait for a member of staff to come and help while you mess your pants. I managed to suggest that it was just a matter of speed and arthritis.
I think I shall have to draw up a list of things to explain. Why, oh why, didn't I think of what to explain beforehand? Why, oh why, didn't it occur to me to make very sure the tailor understood the implications of dementia as it advances?
Dad has always had bespoke trousers but his usual tailors aren't local and he can't get to them so it would have meant taking measurements. I suppose I could have phoned. "Same as before but an extra 2" round the waist, 1/2" less on the leg and can you make the crotch lower to accommodate his pants?"
I can cope with a lot, but dealing with what I'll broadly call tradesmen/businessmen was always, as I was brought up, a man's role. I can cope with academic professionals like lawyers, doctors, accountants etc., but with tradesmen I'm floundering unassertively. I don't know what to do with workmen around the house, with the gardener, with the cable company etc.
I'm rather assuming that if the tailor has so little understanding of dementia, he isn't a carer for someone with dementia, so doesn't read this forum, but if he does, I daresay he'll be having a smile. He seemed both kind and professional. I'm sure it'll be fine when I speak with him but I think I shall find it rather absurdly nervewracking psyching myself up to do it.
I thought from what he said when I contacted him that he understood the issues surrounding dementia, but as he discussed what was needed, it became apparent that he didn't. Maybe he's only encountered mild dementia, or maybe he's only encountered dementia that affects someone almost entirely mentally.
I don't think he understands modern incontinence pants. I shall have to go to the shop, I think, and explain what happens when they expand. (He may think of them as like old-fashioned nappies where the urine spreads out, not as modern chemicals which expand leaving Dad with something like a bag of sugar between his legs.) Of course, it's possible he understood but didn't say.
He was convinced that continuing to wear braces was best for Dad. How to explain how much of a tangle a man with dementia can get into with a pair of braces? I tried to explain diplomatically but didn't want to embarass Dad.
You can, I'm sure, all imagine it even if your loved one doesn't use braces.
Picture Dad. He feels the need to urinate or defecate and probably isn't sure which. He struggles to stand, struggles to walk. Struggles to urinate standing. Struggles to get his braces off to sit down, whether it's to urinate or to defecate.
I guess the tailor's never worn pants without flies inside trousers with flies. It's not actually terribly easy to extract a penis that way.
As for the desire to replace hooks on the waistband with a button, I wondered how to explain to the tailor that there can come a point in life at which a button is a mystifying thing, at which if you have a button to undo, you have to press the buzzer and wait for a member of staff to come and help while you mess your pants. I managed to suggest that it was just a matter of speed and arthritis.
I think I shall have to draw up a list of things to explain. Why, oh why, didn't I think of what to explain beforehand? Why, oh why, didn't it occur to me to make very sure the tailor understood the implications of dementia as it advances?
Dad has always had bespoke trousers but his usual tailors aren't local and he can't get to them so it would have meant taking measurements. I suppose I could have phoned. "Same as before but an extra 2" round the waist, 1/2" less on the leg and can you make the crotch lower to accommodate his pants?"
I can cope with a lot, but dealing with what I'll broadly call tradesmen/businessmen was always, as I was brought up, a man's role. I can cope with academic professionals like lawyers, doctors, accountants etc., but with tradesmen I'm floundering unassertively. I don't know what to do with workmen around the house, with the gardener, with the cable company etc.
I'm rather assuming that if the tailor has so little understanding of dementia, he isn't a carer for someone with dementia, so doesn't read this forum, but if he does, I daresay he'll be having a smile. He seemed both kind and professional. I'm sure it'll be fine when I speak with him but I think I shall find it rather absurdly nervewracking psyching myself up to do it.