Saturday, September 28, 2013


Living with dementia.

I don't enjoy days like this one has been.
I haven't been anywhere or seen anybody.
Prepare yourself for mournfulness!
Before bedtime last night, Bill seemed to suggest he was up for going out this morning. But when the alarm went I could sense that he had changed his bed until about half past ten.
That's the easy bit for me - peaceful.
I reassured Bill that I didn't mind not going to Ford again today, because I had lots to do at home.
And that was no lie.
I sorted photographs and descriptions for more Ebay items.
The 1946 Rupert Annual had bids within minutes.......and the bidding must go higher.
I have also cleared a lot from the dining room table, written up and priced ready for the shop.
I made toasted sandwiches at lunchtime - set the smoke alarm off! I realised that this was something else I must know to switch it off.
"Show me, Bill".
We scurried up the stairs and he stood there - not sure how to turn it off. After a few bangs at it, the beeping did stop; but he didn't know enough to tell me.
Bill also looked at his account book. he has always kept very careful accounts - of our moneys in and out.
It all gets written down in his book. It has been like that for 50 years.
In August it seemed to get very muddled and abandoned.
I sort of took over in September - writing down everything that was paid by credit card.
I suggested that I completely took it over - but Bill thought that wouldn't be right.
But he never did sort out September accounts. He abandoned it, blaming the bank for sending out a different form of statement,
He did go out and clean the car.
Generally I feel rather depressed. It is not a fear of the future that is dragging me down, though Lord knows where the future will take me.
It is every waking moment that depresses me.
The clapping, tapping, smacking his arms and legs rhythmically and making noises with his mouth just drives me up the wall.
Every time I hear the clapping as England football supporters almost hurts my heart.
And he has never been a football supporter!
I feel much the same when Bill goes out to the garden to hunt for slugs to throw them off our patch. It's like it is his hobby.
I can almost cope with the memory many times has he asked me "What are we doing tomorrow?"
The answer was always the same - we will go to a car boot sale, either to buy or to sell. If Ruth had been ready we would have gone with her to sell.
But she isn't - so we will got to Brighton to buy.
Bill says he will come with me.
Life with Bill feels rather empty. He was never a great conversationalist, not good at expressing views and opinions.....but now there is nothing.
He is not interested in other people. he looks at my facebook and enjoys some of the jokes and videos people send.
He chuckles at jokes in adverts on TV.
Does it sound too dramatic to say that I feel a bit like a widow, but still have a living husband?
Already I don't have the husband that I had.
And I fear it will be much worse in the future. After all there are  still many things that Bill can do, sometimes even without prompting.
He is in charge of washing up. He has mown the lawn, washed the car and other tasks.
He can drive the car.
He knows who everybody is....... not sure where they live or what they do with life.
After we have been to the memory clinic on Friday next, I must begin the process of finding somebody to act as power of attorney for him, if I should pass on or become sick.
I may even look ahead to a time when he might need more professional care than I can give him.
Ifield Park would be my nursing home of choice, I think.
I hate this disease that he has - and officially I don't even know what it is yet!
Somehow I must put the hate and negativity to one side; it won't change anything for Bill and it is no doubt making things worse for me.
I live in a constant state of anxiety with him - never knowing how long a peaceful spell will last.
Maybe an outpouring of words will help stem the inner screaming for me.