I start once again with an apology for my tardy blogging but I have said it once and I say it again; I am a busy bitch.

So thank you or not… there has been a lot of dementia shizzle going on but yesterday was hard. Caring is hard and unlike children caring for a person with dementia is really not always rewarding. I saw a woman on tv the other day telling me how fulfilling her role is feeding her mother with dementia. All I can say is that she must be a saint because I am not ashamed to say it’s exhausting. I do it because I love my dad and because frankly there is no one else. Rewind to several years ago and I never thought we would be where we are now…. but don’t get your pitty tissues out just yet! I am going to be made a saint so my time will come!

Moving on.

I have come to the conclusion that people with dementia are akin to children and vegetables… persist and eventually they realise that the vegetables are going nowhere and you learn to ‘like’ them. Before too long they are on the plate and you ate them without even noticing.

Around 2 weeks ago after much deliberation we (me the husband and social services) took the decision to get a carer to go in at the end of the day. By that I mean around 9pm. He doesn’t like it but the persistence is paying off and we’re now aware, like the vegetables, that she’s there to stay. He was at risk alone and struggling so it’s for the best; like broccoli!

Last night the youngest was at her prom (ahhhhhh I know!) and I knew dad was ok because the carer was going in. But dad rang around 9 to tell me that his tv had not worked for 2 days. I asked had the carer been in; no one has seen me for days he said!

So earlier in the day he had some meals delivered and I called to ask if they were in the freezer … let’s say it took several phone calls and the ability of someone else checking to confirm that the delivery man, who gave an amazing description of my dad and what he was doing when he delivered, had placed the meals in the freezer! This is not easy.

So back to the call. I asked what the issue was. I also know what times the carer goes in so I knew she’d been.

He proclaimed once again that his tv did not work. I pointed out that it was working when I saw him in the morning when I got him dressed. He told me he had not seen me for days. The night before he had dinner with us at our house….

I called the carer who told me that they had been in and that once again he was in bed (time is something which is wasted on the young and those with dementia!) and that his tv was working but it was in English… they went back round.

I called dad back. No thanks. I told him once again that I had been there. Again no recollection and no thanks. I told him that the carer was coming back. Again nothing.

So I console myself with knowing that I am not married to a person with dementia. I cannot thank my lucky stars enough in knowing that I can shut my door and rest easy at night safe in the knowledge that he’s safe but so am I.

TTIF as they say!!! He’s coming for dinner again tonight…. but don’t worry he won’t remember a bloody thing!