here's an extract from my Blog: margy's dementia Diary - find one thing to make you smile every day!) , which i hope will help other carers find something to laugh about every day and stay positive. Please enter "SpiceL2014.blog" in Google search for full blog.
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Yesterday, I helped Mum prepare for her day out with carers, assisting her shower and choose appropriate clothes. Meanwhile, Mum prepared for her day out by filling her jacket pockets with soiled socks and pants from the laundry basket!
Earlier, our daughter age 10 had asked if all old ladies grow beards as Granny Margy has one? Realised it's time for de-bearding day again! Unfortunately, Mum must have been trimming stray hairs that appeared on her chin and lip with scissors for years while she was living alone, so the hairs have now grown back with a vengeance; thick, fast and frighteningly long! A small task took half an hour, as when I showed her the inch long whiskers in the mirror, she was horrified and wanted to cut them off. She wouldn't let me use wax strips and is unable to use tweezers herself, so I had the difficult task of plucking them for her. But, as each hair was pulled, she would scream like a toddler and call me a 'stinking cow' or a 'horrible swine'! I persevered, rather me be called a 'stinking cow' than Mum becoming known as the 'whiskered woman of West Sussex'!
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Yesterday, I helped Mum prepare for her day out with carers, assisting her shower and choose appropriate clothes. Meanwhile, Mum prepared for her day out by filling her jacket pockets with soiled socks and pants from the laundry basket!
Earlier, our daughter age 10 had asked if all old ladies grow beards as Granny Margy has one? Realised it's time for de-bearding day again! Unfortunately, Mum must have been trimming stray hairs that appeared on her chin and lip with scissors for years while she was living alone, so the hairs have now grown back with a vengeance; thick, fast and frighteningly long! A small task took half an hour, as when I showed her the inch long whiskers in the mirror, she was horrified and wanted to cut them off. She wouldn't let me use wax strips and is unable to use tweezers herself, so I had the difficult task of plucking them for her. But, as each hair was pulled, she would scream like a toddler and call me a 'stinking cow' or a 'horrible swine'! I persevered, rather me be called a 'stinking cow' than Mum becoming known as the 'whiskered woman of West Sussex'!
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