When not under the summer duvet, I slept well, just reaching for it as I needed it. I had fun trying to stow the winter duvet at the top of T’s wardrobe where there was a big empty shelf. It involved quite a delicate balancing action. And a walking stick. The latter was to poke the duvet onto the top of the shelf. But as I was standing half in the wardrobe, arms aching after initial failure (and no stick), and with the duvet above my head, asking T to pass me the walking stick… well, that was a different matter.
The stick that was in the ensuite bathroom … once we established what the bathroom was.
Of all my long list of irritations, chores remaining include: cleaning the oven, waiting for dementia advisor to call and sorting out the Wayleave application, working on my crap painting.
It was very good to see our cleaners again… the house smells a whole lot nicer. And is a whole lot cleaner.
T became explosively angry because he wanted to go out somewhere, which we will do, later, if the dementia advisor ever rings. As promised. I’m currently sitting around waiting for that eventuality.
H and I walked out early this morning. The free car park is not open at 06.30., but the paying car park is free until 08.00. It was another beautiful morning – around 16C but it felt warmer. There were several dogs and their humans out and about, some following in Heidi’s paw steps and clearing the ducks. Mallards they are and there were plenty of them out this morning. They just allowed the slow flow of the river to carry them with it.
We reached our mindfulness log. We haven’t sat on this for a while; sometimes because a boat is parked directly in front of it. Mainly because we have not visited Pangbourne. It’s hard to sit on a log when you are not in its locality.
Gorgeous girl.
The peace derived from these walks can add a whole new complexion to the day. No matter how grumpy I may feel about getting up, the feeling is defused by the early morning light, the mesmerising flow of the river, reflections, the songs of the birds and watching our dog playing.
The cleaners departed. T smouldered on. I decided we would go to the Coppa Club for lunch and was just preparing for this around 14.00 when, finally, the Dementia Adviser rang. Since when was 14.00 part of a morning? It was difficult to talk because T kept coming and going.
But she sent me some useful information including confirmation of organisations who run dementia holidays. I actually had knowledge of the links to companies that she sent. But she was able to pass on the fact that they were personally recommended by people she knew who had enjoyed the experience.
Unfortunately, one of the two locations of one company is in Southport. By the Marine Lake. Do I really want to go back to my childhood home for a holiday? Well… my childhood was a while ago.
Lunch at Coppa Club was very good. T’s ill temper was soon defused. Maybe he just needed feeding. I have noticed bad temper when he is hungry before, but not for a while. He did his food justice. And drank 00Guinness. This comes by the pint: I’ve not known him drink Guinness before but it went down well.
We are getting to the stage where he will accept soft drinks in the absence of 00 beer. But not reliably.
We returned home to H, who for the first time ever, was not at the door to greet us. Perhaps she was annoyed with us. Or just hot.
We were watching Spring Watch which T usually enjoys, but restlessness took over. The plants required water but I had already dealt with the ones at the front. T was about to use a watering can on the ones at the back until I suggested the hose. This was to counter his restlessness. I’ve given up trying to organise them. And have lost interest. That’s what happens when you face a losing battle.
Looking back and thinking on it, his moods have been difficult over quite a few days, or even stretching back 3 or 4 weeks. General ill temper or depression maybe. Perhaps we need to increase the dose of his Happy pills. He can easily get angry and cross but churlishness stretching over time has not usually been a prevalent thing. He gives short shrift when I give him explanations and is more widely intolerant.
It is an isolating life living with someone with dementia. And it is the worst of all worlds because you can’t get on with any sort of life for yourself. You get no return. I am quite content with my own company, but I don’t even get that. There is always some nonsense bashing my ears, or some reason I have to be present. Some aeroplane I have no interest in, but am required to look at, (or pretend to,) or some cloud I am required to study. Or something has been done to irritate and annoy. Or something to hunt down (dustpan and brush are still missing) .
But on the positive side, T is physically fit, and not incontinent, and is verbal.
Current annoyance – waking up, unable to breathe, due to the window being shut whilst I was asleep. Doh!
Thought for the Day
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