"She's on my side"

Ella was gone when I arrived yesterday. Don informed me that she hadn't been feeling well the past few days, but yesterday felt well enough to go to the high school. The... high school? I wondered about this, but did not ask. I was thinking maybe a grandchild was still in high school, but I thought all the grand kids were of collage age or higher. As he gestured at his own hair, and mentioned that she felt the need for a new hair style, I realized he meant that she had gone to the salon.

We went back so he could show me the trouble with the sheets and pillow cases. You'll recall the note he left on September 13th. He had stripped the bed, and the linens were piled at the end of the mattress, with the bloody spots exposed. Yes, I agreed that they were very bad. Then he said "You'll have to help me out. Ella said something about that blanket (he gestures toward a comforter on the floor), but I forgot what she said.
"I have a feeling she wants it under your coverlet, as the air has gotten much more chilly since I made the bed last time."
"Oh! Thank you! I'm sure you're right. It has been colder."

Later, when Ella was home and the two of them were having lunch, he suddenly said to her "She's on my side about the bed making!"

Ella looked at me, and I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. He was SO triumphant.

If Dementia is stealing away the person you love, handling it like Ella is doing is making the best of a bad situation. She never makes Don feel like less of a man, or less of a person. We both just agreed that I was on his side, and I whispered to her later that I was going to add the comforter to the bed.

As I said before; they're not used to having help in their home. A couple of hours later, Don emerged from the bedroom and said "I went back to see if I could help you with the bed, and it was already made!"

I'm interrupting you....

I was busy cutting up vegetables and getting things ready for the evening meal. Don came into the kitchen with something very specific to say. Problem was; the words eluded him completely. He shook his head - he is still so handsome and is so soft spoken. "I'm interrupting you" he said sadly.
"No!" I shook my head. "I love talking with you!"
"You need to talk to someone who knows what they're talking about."

He left the kitchen.

Words fail the mind that has been assaulted by Dementia. The person is in there, but gets a little bit lost from time to time. Stress about it makes it worse.

If your loved one is exhibiting this kind of behavior, be very calm, matter of fact, and patient. I always just smile, touch an arm and say "Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes the words just refuse to come." And then drop it. Talk about something else.

Bloody Noses and Dirty Linens

Ella has been suffering with bloody noses lately. Her doctor says it's a combination of a few things, including high blood pressure, dry interior of her nose, and dehydration. I can help with the latter two.

Don is very concerned. I get the idea that they have always kept an immaculate home. One day I arrived to the above note. (I have whited out the actual name, as I keep my clients' names confidential.)

Ella tenderly showed me the note, and said it was special because Don never writes anything, anymore. What he was asking was for help getting the blood stains out of the fabric.

Yesterday I showed Don what happens when you pour hydrogen peroxide onto the blood stains. He was very amused and impressed.

Flashlight?

I'm preparing meals ahead for Don and Ella. She is unable to stand for long periods of time, so this is a great help for them. At the same time, I've got a load of laundry going. In walks Don, slowly, holding a lit flashlight in his hand.

"Will you be needing this in the next few minutes?" he asks.
I stop and look at him, thoughtfully. "I don't believe so... I'm sure I'll be fine" I reply.
"Ok, good. I"m going out to the.... the.... car place."
"The garage?"
"Yes!"
"Okay - see you soon."

Flashlight. I really wanted to follow him out there and see what he was going to do with it. One day soon I fear I will have to follow. Not yet.

The Don and Ella Chronicles

Don is a quiet man; an elegant man. He carries himself with the demeanor fitting for a respected educator, and mentor. He is married to a gracious woman, Ella, who is still beautiful. Don has suffered multiple heart attacks, and strokes. Ella has had hip surgery, and recovery is slow to happen. An in-home caregiver is not something they are used to. We're becoming comfortable with each other. Don knows his mind is slipping, and I am seeing this progress at an alarming rate. All of the warning signs for Dementia are present.  Ella finds it hard to just relax so she can heal. I will be sharing their stories here - as I am honored to share the sunset with them.