I can write this right now because no one can see behind the sunglasses but someone just asked me the wrong question. I also know that those closest don’t tend to read my blogs so that keeps me even more sane…. they sadly have to see what takes place so they don’t always need reminding. Even the eldest said today that ‘mum needs a break but still isn’t getting one’…I wasn’t going to write about this because it’s not that funny but Mr H then asked me if I was ok. I am ok I just have a good defence barrier around me which only ever breaks when I get asked how I am.
Before I begin please please please do NOT send me emails asking me how I am or telling me that you understand. Because you don’t. Every case is different.
Whilst away I have been orchestrating dad behind the scenes. A bloody good PA would struggle with what I do from here, here being I am in Portugal and he’s back in the UK. This week things have not gone so smoothly. Suffice to say that any efforts I have made have been seen as futile.
I have ordered meals. Dealt with the carers. Appeased the taxi driver when dementia dad decided to neither answer the door/phone or actually get in said taxi. I have spoken to dad several times a day which always, bar 1 call, tell me how crap everything is. Literally crap.
Having been in touch with the altzeimers’ society they have asked me to keep writing. I don’t know over 1000 people but almost 1500 people have read my blogs in the last 3 weeks and a lot have found it cathartic. So I will carry on with my shizzle.
So dad has fallen twice this week. His peripheral vision is almost non existent and is simply getting worse thanks to this fucking terrible disease. Falls are common place but me aka the safety blanket is normally there to make light of such things and move on. Over the phone this is not so simple. In fact it’s impossible and his mood has gone downhill.
Today he didn’t attend his day centre. The taxi was waiting and no answer by phone or door bell. He’s not a child and albeit I could ask the taxi driver to go and get him but ultimately if he refuses what can we do?
Eventually I emailed all concerned; social services, doctor and the day centre. The day centre lady is called Marisol. She’s Spanish and salt of the earth. She reminds me (and my dad) of some of our relatives in Portugal. Her name literally means Sea and Sun. What a wonderful name! She’s just lovely and has a wonderful vibe about her. Anyway. She got the email and called me straight away to ask if she could go and get my dad. So I will fill you in.
Every Monday and Friday he attends a day centre. They feed him there too so it’s one less meal to worry about. Dad not going today means no meal which is a big NoNo in my world. Remember I am half Portuguese… it’s almost as bad as not having bread with your meal! So I told her to call him but that it would take several attempts for him to answer … long story but suffice to say it took 3 attempts for him to answer her. At the time he was on the phone to me moaning about my lack of care for him….anyway the wonder that is Marisol went to get him because she too (a feeder by British standards) was concerned about the lack of lunch! I called to see if he had agreed to go but she’d already left to get him.
He doesn’t tend to argue with anyone but me so I held out hope that he would go.
Her colleague answered he phone. She informed me that she had popped out. I explained who I was and where I think she may have gone. Yes that’s right she’s gone to get your dad she said. I apologised (1 of the many I seem to provide on his behalf) and explained the situation and that’s when it happened. That’s when she broke me because she said it’s ok. She said that I don’t need to apologise. She too has been in my shoes. She too was the daughter who did it all.
Needless to say Marisol coerced dad in. He’s eating so I am happy. She’s happy as he’s attending the day centre. I will await my next bollocking call later today to inform me how crap I am because every so often he thanks me…. but those are becoming less and less….. remember DO NOT ask how I am. My barriers are what I need.
One thought on “Why?”
I won’t tell you I understand. I won’t tell you I know how you feel. I’ll just tell you that I love you lots, sending you hugs, and tell you I think you’re amazing 😉 and that the ear is always available to bend. I hear you Mrs H. You’re doing the best you can and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Miss you much. Think of you always 😘
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