I have always appreciated that saying "if you've known one person with dementia, you've known one person with dementia" (thank you Canadian Joanne!) because each sufferer seems so different. But what I find really hard (I guess everyone else does too) are the changes within the same person. I spent the afternoon with Mum yesterday and we played a marathon 5 games of Scrabble! Yes, she is still able to play well - not as well as earlier, but still plays a pretty good game. We had a lovely afternoon, with no sadness or distress (which are so often evident with Mum) and I was thinking to myself what a good day it had been. She was getting ready to go into supper (I try and leave when meal times arrive) when she said (out of the blue): Mum: "I don't know what the laundry has done to these pants of mine!" I look at pants which seem fine. Me: "Why Mum? What's the matter with them?" Mum: "Well, they used to be navy blue!" (said with withering scorn!) Me: "No, Mum, those are your grey ones" Mum: "I don't have any grey ones!" Me: "Yes you do. You are wearing them" Mum: "Well, where are my navy ones then?" (asked as if to say "answer that! smarty pants!!") Me: "Probably they've gone to the laundry. Mum. When did you wear them last?" Then I look in the laundry basket and there they are. I tell Mum. She looks miserable. I HATE myself!! Why oh why cannot I just let these remarks go? I can sometimes do it, but I so often find myself "defending" reality instead of just going along with what Mum's saying. This highlights to us both how she is no longer able to remember simple things or even be rational. It makes us both miserable. I just WISH I could be more like Sylvia!