Early dementia or…

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Early in the flight I heard the stewardess checking on the dietary requirements of the passenger in front of me. “Hello, Mr K, I’m confirming that you requested a vegetarian meal?” “No no,” he said, “I didn’t make any request.”

“Are you Mr. K? It says on your ticket you need a vegetarian meal?”

“No no, I didn’t make any request.”

“Okay, can I bring you a vegetarian meal? Will you have that?”

“No, no. I don’t want vegetarian.”

“Are you not vegetarian, can you eat meat?”

“Yes, anything is okay”

“Would you like me to cancel your vegetarian meal and get you a normal meal then?”

“Yes, ok”.

Half an hour later the lunch cart came round and a different stewardess asked, “Pork or chicken?”

“I can’t take that”, he says, “I’m vegetarian!”

And the stewardess says, “Did you request for a vegetarian meal? There’s no sticker on your seat for a special meal. Ok, let me check with my colleague.”

As she goes off to check (thus delaying MY lunch), I was incredulous at the behaviour of the chap. Was he forgetful or plain bad at communicating or a sociopath out to create trouble?

Update. Touch wood.

I know it’s been a long time since I last wrote. There’s not much change in Mom’s status, which is a good thing.

She’s a Happy Camper.

She wishes me Good Morning with a huge smile.

She laughs because exercise tickles.

She sleeps when she feels like it.

TV is fun or not, it’s still watchable. 

Occasionally she spits out chewed food. 

Occasionally she thinks afternoon tea is breakfast time. At times I’m her sister.

But on the whole, it’s peace and love. Life goes on. Touch wood. 

What is a Snack?

Mom lost a lot of weight earlier this year, when she was hospitalised for an infection. Of course once she got home, we made reparations. She had 3 square meals with morning and afternoon tea! We overdid ourselves, though, and she has become a bit too round. Especially since nowadays she mostly sits around not doing much.

In the last year or so, a lot has changed. Although she can still find her way around the house and brush her own teeth, she is getting increasingly more forgetful and confused. She brushes her teeth three four times in a row, because she forgets that she has just done so. Afternoons become mornings, and nights are times to toss and turn and change the bedsheets. A son becomes the husband, and a grand-daughter becomes a strange girl who stares at her. She’s also searching, searching; for what nobody knows.

One blessing is that she considers the live-in helper her own special friend. They get along so well, and the helper can always make Mom laugh and giggle. But sometimes nobody can help Mom settle down and sleep when it is time to sleep. If it gets worse, I will have to consider sleep aids.

When talking to Mom, one never knows what she will say next. One moment she is wise, and the next she struggles to understand our words. She can still read, she automatically reads signs and labels. But I think she can no longer fully grasp the meanings of words.

Mom, would you like a snack?

What is A Snack?

Well, something like a biscuit or some food. Are you hungry? Would you like to eat something?

Oh, I don’t mind if there is.

I feel she is going adrift. Losing her anchor, losing sense of time. What is this place? What shall I do? Who is there? Where is my friend? Is it time to eat? Is it time to shower? I want to lie down. Why wouldn’t they let me go to the room and lie down? Why must I wait? I need to find my thing.