What do you remember?

Hello.

Long time no blog.

To bring you all up to date, mum is now in a nursing home after a stay in hospital. I have had a bit of a breakdown and am receiving counselling and drugs for depression. I think "recovering from caring" will be my next blog. Details to follow.

Here is something my sister wrote ages ago, I have been meaning to share it for so so long but every time I read it I cry. It is quite possibly one of the loveliest things I have ever read.

What do you remember?

I had a dream last night. Me and mum were whizzing about in the car. We picnicked in a field. I could smell the grass and the sunshine and the summer. My old dog was there. He’s been dead for a while. Mum and me chatted laughed and joked. Mum’s not been  able to chat or laugh or joke for a while. It was a one of the loveliest dreams I've ever had but when I tell people I cry.

I've been thinking about dreams and memories. Before mum went into hospital we would have an adventure every Tuesday. We re-discovered the freedom that swimming brings. We delighted in tea-rooms and magical walled gardens in stately homes. We sat at a favourite spot and marvelled at how high hills were, how slow cows were, how green and wonderful was the view. We were silly, we sang and danced and filled our hearts with music.

I thought I was making memories for mum. Everyone tells you to keep memories alive, to help the dementia sufferer to find their happy place. Now I know I was making memories for me too. These are the times I will remember. I will remember the disease as it is now, but I will remember my mum as she was then.

Movember

MOVEMBER.

Whats that all about then I hear you cry. Have a look at my page here to find out more. Then sponsor me.

Ta. x

Liberal England: GUEST POST The perfect Christmas gift for a carer

I have written a guest blog on the rather good Liberal England run by Jonathan Calder or @lordbonkers as he is known on Twitter. its about the ideal gift idea for a carer. Please pop over and have a read.

24/10/13

Mrs Pollard has left the building.

We tried. We really tried. We tried everything we could.

The live in carer idea seemed amazing on paper but was just not meant to be. Mums dementia has progressed too far to control with the normal diversionary tactics that have been so successful over the years. The violent outbursts have become too common and the mood swings too unpredictable. After a huge amount of soul searching Mum has been admitted to hospital for assessment to try to work out if  meds can stabilise the condition, without removing too much of the Mum we all remember.

The plan is that Mum will then go from the hospital straight to a care home. We know this is the best, the only answer but it was such an unbelievably difficult decision to make.

Mum has left the house she loved so much, never to return

When you have spent your whole life in the company of someone so strong, intelligent and able to rise above whatever life threw in their direction it is so hard to become the person to decide their future.

To see Mum today, asleep, drugged, half on half off a hospital bed in a such a stark, bare room very nearly broke me in two. 

This lady who has been a tower of strength and wisdom for so many years.
This lady who sat quietly in the wings ready to offer the most amazing help and counsel, but only when needed.
This lady who was  the most amazing, intelligent, caring, wise, loving lady you could ever hope to meet.

To see her, so helpless made me realise the roles have been reversed. We are now the ones who need to be strong, wise and caring. This is Mums Hour of need. 

Over to us.

Hello again

If you are a new reader to this blog may I suggest you read this and maybe one or two of the earlier ones to get a rough idea of how this all started.

Who Cares?

Following much family deliberation we have decided to take on full time carers for mum. Many factors have played a part in this decision, but principally Mums needs are becoming more and more demanding and I am finding it harder and harder to cope with the levels of care needed.

After several years where the main focus of a huge amount of my time, feelings and emotions has been focused on the well being of another, I finally realised that I have neglected caring for myself.

At first, when discussing care, the only thoughts going through my head were things like

"I've failed my Mum"

"No one will care for Mum like I can"

I now realise how wrong these two statements are. I haven't failed at all, I did a bloody good job for a long time, but now I need to let someone else take over, someone emotionally unattached, someone who can focus on care.

I also realise that I need to let go. I am all cared out. This doesn't mean I don't "care" what happens to Mum, just that I can no longer "care" for her as well as I would like, or provide the level of "care" that she needs. 

So it is with great trepidation that we allow carers amongst us. Will Mum like them? Will they like Mum? Will they like me and Sarah? Will we like them? Will they keep my spices in alphabetical order? 

The answers to these and many other questions will be answered over the next few weeks.

Gis a Job.

So...It is with great trepidation I re-enter the jobs market.

I havent had a real full time job for several years. At the same time I am very excited and also terrified at the prospect of rejoining the 9-5. Countless people tell me that I have been doing an amazingly worthwhile and rewarding job for so many years but I doubt many prospective employers will see it this way. 

So....If you know anyone looking for a caring hippy who loves some or all of the following please let me know.

• Driving
• Putting things in alphabetical order and straight lines
• Talking to people
• Listening to people
• Umm...some other stuff.

The important stuff.

There are two other things I need to share with you. 

But...

You will have to wait for the next blog for them.

Its well worth waiting though, damn exciting.

Poo

Wow.

Many many months since my last post. I seemed to hit a wall, a wall that told me to stop writing all this shit for strangers and try to do something in the real world. More of that later.

I think I have realised most of this wasn't written for strangers at all, it was written for me. It  is a very useful release for what I may be feeling at the time. I am not a great one for  talking about problems to real people so typing about it and publishing it here does actually help.
I think it may be time to try again

New reader? Here's a very quick outline.

I am a very nearly 50 year old failed hippy. I care for my mum who has vascular dementia. We used to have a dog on wheels and a strange assortment of vehicles. There is a lovely old Gentleman, more of him later. I met the incredibly understanding and patient Sarah on the internet and I`m not letting her escape now.

If you have a few minutes to spare please have a read of some of the older posts.

First things first then. Where are we up to?

Mum is still gradually sliding away from reality
We have a new dog, Tess, who is mental.
Sarah is still lovely, as is the Lovely Gentleman
I am hugely overweight and have sprouted some interesting facial hair.
I am in the process of trying to engineer myself some kind of "online presence" (More of that later)

Here we go.

Last week I was visited by the rather nasty "norovirus" Three or four days of ingesting liquids just to have them exit superheated and slightly discoloured. With Sarahs help we got through the week, and even managed to sneak a night out on Saturday whilst the Lovely Gentleman Mummysat.

Unfortunately said virus is hugely contagious.
Both Sarah and Mum have been struck down.

Spent the night in the spare room to give Sarah "a little space" as her virus developed. Woke up to a very very distressed Mum, and something I have been preparing myself for but never really expected to happen.

Mum has the norovirus.

Pyjamas full of excrement.

There is nothing on earth that can prepare you for the first time you have to strip your mother and shower her. Neither of you want it to happen but both understand it is necessary.

Anyway, managed to get us both cleaned up and Mum back in to bed, which is where the word barrier comes into play once again. Mum trying to ask questions about why she feels like this and me trying to explain. Not easy.

Why should she drink fluids? surely they will make her worse?

This seems to be the general feeling at the moment.

Managed  to get her to take some Coconut Water, as suggested by @novembervivi over on the twitter so hopefully things will be a little better tomorrow.


Thats enough for one night. If you are new to this welcome to my world.

Our Hols, Part two.

Hello Again.

Following on from yesterdays blog, as the week progressed mum was very up and down. Out and about in the day was generally better than the evenings. She is seeming to need distractions of some kind all the time, whether it be a walk in the woods, food, music or TV. Becoming more and more like what I would imagine its like to have a small child. 

Sarahs Mum and her Partner and her 99 year old Nan visited for the day midweek. Great meal in Holt which mum really enjoyed. Nan can't half put some food away too! Back to the caravan and again the disorientation and confusion..

The low spot of the whole week was when I came to dismantle the awning. Mum was in tears, almost a full on tantrum, crying and shouting unintelligibly. Just couldn't get to the bottom of it. Sarah had to sit in the caravan and try to calm her while I managed to pack it away. Seriously considered travelling home a day early but I really don't think I was fit to drive. Eventually managed to get mum off to sleep so we could both calm ourselves down too.

Need to seriously think about the holiday situation. Whether the stressed out times are outweighing the benefits of the break for mum. Fabia is taking mum for a weekend in the peaks in December, staying in a Hotel so it will be interesting to see the difference that makes. 

Thats pretty much up to date with the holiday, so more tomorrow about rooms and words. Till then here's Mum talking to her new friend Billy.

Remember Me?

Hello.

Its been a while. 

I am afraid to report  have become exceedingly lazy on the blog front, also on the development of dementiacarer.com. I seem to have lost myself in a world of really bad puns, quizzes and swear words on twitter for a month or two. Time to make a concerted effort I feel to get back into the swing of things.

Lets bring you all up to date with this post, and go into a little more detail tomorrow.

If you are a regular reader you may remember we intended to take Mum and old hoppalong to the south of France in the caravan. As it panned out the dog had to be put to sleep and the more we thought about it, it became apparent that Mum would not manage a two week multi location holiday so we had to unfortunately cancel the journey to visit my Godfather Lloyd and Kay and have a rethink.

We decided to take the caravan across to Norfolk to Kelling Heath caravan park for just a week. The park is lovely, situated in a beautiful forest, nice walks and views etc and has a pool to fuel mums rediscovered passion for swimming.

We arrived on Monday after a three hour drive in torrential rain to find the sun was starting to break through, lovely. After a few negotiations to find a pitch that wasn't actually under 3ft of water we settled on one near the showers and club etc. Levelled the caravan up and settled in for tea. 

First night great. Mum absolutely knackered after the journey and a few little walks, slept right through.

Next day I decided to set up the awning to give us a some storage space. Mum stood in the door watching.."Stupid" "Whats that for" and other similar but unintelligible sayings. After an hour or so, all pegged out and looking good we decided to pop out to Holt. A lovely little town. Nice shops and excellent cake.

Return to the site, pull up alongside the awning and mum is clapping her hands, "lovely" "ohh thats so good" etc. Apparently she loves the awning now. 

Second night not so plain sailing. Mum up and down a lot of times through the night, very unsettled, not distressed just a little confused as to where she was.

Won't go into too much detail about the rest of the week yet, suffice to say it was very up and down..probably on reflection more down than up this year. i think this may be our last caravan holiday. A pity when I think back to all the holidays mum spent touring Europe, even as far as Hungary with the caravan and now she really struggles with one night.

Anyway. Enough for one night. I am back into it now so more tomorrow. Till then, here's a lovely picture of mum enjoying a ride on a train.

Farewell my friend.

I cant believe that its been two months since I last wrote anything here. I seem to have hurled myself into a world of quizzes and chatting about rubbish on twitter, and temporarily lost touch with the real world. 

If you are a first time visitor please have a quick look here for a brief outline. I will write more about Mum later in the week, this is about my best friend Snapper. If you havent met my dog before I wrote a bit about her here  and here. They are only short blogs and they give you a bit of an outline. 

Doing her favourite thing-lying down.

Shortly after all that happened she developed a tumor on her right front leg, which rapidly grew then burst open. We couldn`t chance an operation as her back legs were far from perfect and the loss of a front would finish her. So with advice from the vet it was left. It didn't look very pretty but it didnt give her any discomfort. Now, 12 months down the line it has started to grow at a rather alarming rate and the vet informs us it is spreading under the skin also.

So this week we have taken the heart breaking decision to have her put to sleep. We agreed that while she had a decent quality of life we would do anything in our power to keep her happy and comfortable. Since the tumor has started to spread again she has lost her spark. This may sound silly to a non doggy person but I know she has had enough. In thirteen years we have haven't been apart for more than a week, and that has only happened once so I am pretty sure I know, but that doesnt make it any easier.

I had Snapper from 8 weeks. She helped me through a physically and emotionally abusive relationship, she kept me sane living on my own in a caravan for a while, and kept me warm when there was ice on the inside of the walls at night. She helped me when I moved down to investigate mums problems and through the diagnosis of her dementia. She was my confidant as I started to think about dating and listened to me reading countless emails from online dating sites, and eventually welcomed the wonderful Sarah with open paws. 

So please spare a thought or two for my best friend this week. I wont mention when it happens, I may just tell a tale or two from our years for old times sake.

This is my favourite picture of her in her favourite place.
The beach near our caravan at Meols on the wirral

Beans.

Today we have a guest blogger, my sister Fabia

Fabia whisked mum and the dog away for the weekend so Sarah and I could enjoy a birthday surprise from her Mum; a weekend at the spectacular Thoresby Hall. 

I've just had a good weekend with mum, and managed to do most things about right so I've been inspired to make an appearance on Jon's blog.

Its always a worry when to let mum know what the plans are. Not too early so she worries about where she's going to sleep and so can't sleep, but not too late so that she feels she's never told what's going on. Some time in the middle seems to work so that even if she forgets where she's going, mum still has 23 pairs of socks and a sun hat packed and ready to go.

We'd had a chat about mum coming over to help in the garden and she was looking forward to it. I arrived on Friday and we did our usual weekday things: swimming; gardening; watching a film. Then I stayed the night as usual and in the morning suggested we go over to my house. The swimming the day before worked its magic and mum slept most of the car journey so we didn’t have the customary discussion around 'where are we going?' and 'I don’t know this place'.

Its was lovely for mum to wake up as we arrived and say 'Here we are' 'I know where I am'. She was straight into the garden and as there was lots of weeding my fruit trees and bushes escaped mum's extreme pruning skills. Although my unruly raspberry canes were inspected many times. Mum likes things to be in order so we worked solidly, weeding, cutting the grass, raking and tidying. I must say, after a nice Sunday dinner at the pub on the second day we could relax in garden chairs and really enjoy the fruits of our labours in a spot of unexpected summer sunshine.

As we relaxed and chatted in our normal wandery way,  I explained that Jon and Sarah would pop over to bring mum back a bit later, and then we chatted about what we might do on my next weekly visit. Mum said we needed to do the round things that we did last time.  I wondered if mum meant she needed to take her tablets but no that wasn’t it. She made the shape of little round things with her fingers. 'The round things, we did lots of them' She mimed walking and moving her hands in small shapes. I wondered if it was the broad beans which we had sat and shelled on Friday but no 'Not broad beans, they are green, yes beans'.

I guessed at the green beans she had enjoyed with her Sunday lunch 'Oh they were lovely, but not those beans'
We continued like this for some time with me guessing at every round green bean thing that I could and trying to imagine what we might have to do with them. I offered to plant some beans in the vegetable patch in her garden and then as I thought of jobs which needed doing it struck me……. Gooseberries!

'Yes Gooseberries! We have to pick the gooseberries' We were both so pleased that we'd got to the bottom of those bean things. Last year we had sat for hours topping and tailing the pounds of gooseberries from the two bushes in mums garden. We'd both enjoyed the simple task that we could happily do together. The mime was mum walking to the bushes and picking the fruit. I suppose with dementia the trick is not to assume that beans will be beans.

Mum and Snapper after a hard day gardening.

Pointing,beer and socks

Pointing

Had a bad week with mum last week. Took a long time for her to readjust after our weekend at santapod. She is finding it harder and harder to cope with any change from a weekly routine. Every morning I would be summoned to her room for her to try to explain a problem. Every day the same pointing and broken sentences. Pointing at the bed and the corner of the room. Tried everything I could think to no avail. Midweek Mum walked into the kitchen carrying her quilt and pillow covers. "I hate these" Hoping that could be the root of the problem I changed the bed to covers she chose and everything seemed ok...for an hour or two.


Back to the drawing board. Same summoning into the room for pointing and words. Sometimes she would get quite angry, the frustration of not having the words to explain the problem, if indeed she really knows what the problem is. One day Sarah was summoned and managed to quieten things down by removing one pillow and straightening the quilt. 


Anyway, "normal" service was resumed towards the end of the week, helped by a few visits from the lovely gentleman and a trip to Leicester to do some shopping accompanied by a nice dinner somewhere.




Saturday, thanks to Sarah insisting I go out for the day,saw my first visit to The Welland Valley Beer Festival. This must be one of the best ideas for a beer festival in the country. A load of local pubs take part, with a huge selections of real ales and ciders, food and entertainment. To make it unique the pubs are served by a selection of vintage buses operating a free timetabled service round the pubs. Great to hear the sound of 50 grown men going woooooooooooooaaaaahhhhh as the buses approach the tops of the steepest hills. One of the buses had to stop on a hill on the way to Uppingham and all the passengers had to walk to the top. A great day for all. In one pub we were greeted by "Prost8" quite possibly the oldest (just)living jazz band in the world. Highly recommended.


This week in general has been much much better. The lovely gentleman called round several times to show off his new car and took Mum out for a spin or two, which always helps. We seem to be losing cutlery at an alarming rate, I think it may be going into mums Apocalypse stockpile. Once we run too low will have to investigate.




This weekend Sarah and I have been treated to a weekend At Thoresby Hall hotel and spa by her Mum and Partner. It was a birthday present for Sarah so I get to go along too. Cool. This seems to have kicked off a little confusion again. We will just have to see if this restarts the bedroom problems. Maybe a break in the routine takes a lot of adjustment and its proving too much? Could it really be that simple?

In other news...

I went to buy some socks on Tuesday. Turned into a bit of an expensive trip. As I was in Corby and the fuel is cheaper there I decided to top the car up, you know, save a couple of bob. On the way home the car seemed to be running a little hot and also seemed to be a little "knocky" under load. As I pulled in the drive it cut out...that was when I realised I had put petrol in my diesel car. Call out. Drain the tank, flush the fuel lines and a new fuel filter. 10 gallons and the call out fee down the drain. Luckily, as it wasn't too much petrol I have escaped any damage to the car. Then to cap it all I had picked up the wrong size socks. Bad day.

Sport.....Yes Sport.

Sport.

Anyone who knows me will probably be recoiling in shock at my use of the S word for a title. I have never been able to understand the mania that surrounds sport. Living on the Wirral as I did for many years I was constantly faced with the question Red or Blue? On giving the answer "I dont like football" One of three things would happen.

1. A complete look of disbelief followed by a hasty retreat
2. The answer would be ignored and the football discussion would carry on unabated, if one sided.
3. A cry of "are you gay or something" followed by a hasty retreat  just in case.

In every pub every night the conversation would revolve around how these fat beer swilling middle aged men could do so much of a better job than the young men they paid so much to watch, whilst wearing yet another hugely overpriced replica shirt, and £200 trainers.

I understand that competition between two opposing teams/individuals can be quite exciting but also that once that match/game/race is over shut up about it.

For my birthday, as usual, I had a long weekend watching drag racing at Santa pod. I enjoy this. Two cars or motorbikes head to head over a quarter mile. Apparently there are different classes and groups and even a championship league of some sort but I dont really care and it doesn't really matter. I like the loud and fast ones. And especially the ones that blow up or catch fire.

I don't then spend hours discussing how I could do so much better because I know I couldn't. I'm just happy to talk about the great day I have had watching it.

To the best of my knowledge there has never been a fight between opposing fans as everyone is there for a love of the event itself. Sitting on the grass cheering a fast time no matter who makes it. In the evening families wander round the pits to chat with the drivers and mechanics, no snobbery or elitism here. Try wandering into the dressing room at a football match and see what happens.

Combine all this fun with free camping,  kids under 16 free, live music, cheap beer and food, stunt shows and a fly past from a spitfire and you have a great weekend.

Roll on next year, my 50th birthday bash at Santa pod. All welcome.

A fast loud one nearly catching fire.

 A little confusion.

While we were at Santa pod Fabia had the task of mummy and doggy sitting. Friday her and Mum went to the Royal Academy where mum has been a member for many years. Fabia decided to spring the day out on mum rather than the gradual build up, a tactic that seemed to work very well. Mum was asleep on the train before she new what had hit her. Both had a lovely day.

As Mum would normally go to Fabias for mummysitting there was a little confusion. Mum couldnt work out where I was or why Fabia was there. As usual the diversionary tactics of gardening and food worked a treat. 

Now the Birthday season is over the planning starts for our summer holiday. Me, three slightly eccentric Ladies (one canine) set off for the south of France in the caravan. God help us all.

More Birthdays

Birthday Girl 2

Last weekend saw another birthday. This time a quite significant one for Sarah. We wont go into details but its more than 49 and less than 50. The party was held in a lovely pub in Sarah`s home town of St. Neots. As is usual the arrangements to mobilise the Pollards were incredibly complicated, involving leaving cars strategically placed in various locations, hotels, countless phone calls and texts and a huge dollop of confusion.

Up early on the day, Sarah washed Mums hair then set off early to meet up with her family to get ready. Mum had picked a new dress for the party but as usual decided she wouldnt wear it. We were to leave for the venue at 3 picking up the lovely old gentleman on the way. To be on the safe side I thought it better to check on the dress situation every half an hour or so. No, adamantly no, she was sure..no.

3 oclock arrives, "Mum, lets get in the car and go shall we?"

"I want to wear my dress"

"Mum, its 3 oclock we have to go"

"I want to wear the dress"

Cue Panic stations. 

Calm Jon Calm.

Bites tongue.

Manages to get dress on then faced with the agonising shoe decision process

Bites tongue a little harder.

20 minutes later we are ready to leave. Not looking at each other but ready to leave. Luckily as soon as the lovely gentleman gets in the car on the other side of town her face lights up and we're off.

The Rivermill is a lovely venue on the side of the river, an old mill. Wonder where they got the name? We have the upstairs to ourselves, 40 odd people for a meal and various others turning up for drinks. We were a little concerned about how Mum would cope with the noise and being among so many strangers but she did admirably. Out for a little walk at one point before the meal but as soon as the food arrived she was in her element. Three courses and cake to follow.

All in all a great night was had by all, followed by a monster breakfast in St. Neots Market square. Ace.

Squirrelling 

Once again Mum has started creating small stashes of food in her bedroom, maybe preparing for the coming apocalypse? This time it started with a couple of bags of chocolate cake decorations. Since the party there has been a gradual exodus of Sarah's birthday chocolates. The stockpile is growing. Small bunches of grapes disappear. Nuts, crisps and biscuits. Should we ever be faced by global food shortages Mum's room will become a Mecca for sweet and savoury snack lovers the world over.

As before I've decided to just keep an eye on things. As long as there are no food hygiene problems then fine.

Birthday Boys

We are slap bang in the middle of birthday season at the moment. Wednesday this week is mine. Then next week is the lovely old gentlemans. I will be celebrating mine sitting in a field next to a disused airfield in Northamptonshire. The gentle man wont.

Where was I?

Instalment no. 2

The problems we were having with mums blind and the wardrobe doors seem to have abated. Sometimes Mum seems to think that her "little house" is all she has left in the world..she needs reassurance that the rest of the house is still hers to use as she pleases. Every few days she seems very down, almost worried that she will be left on her own with nothing. Hard to describe really. She doesnt have the words to tell us what the problems are, or tell us how we can help. As usual humour seems to be no1 method of rescue followed by loud rousing music, walks, food, a nice cup of tea or a spin in the Jag.


This coming weekend we have yet another party, for Sarahs birthday. Mum is a little excited if unsure where when or why its taking place. She has a new frock and of course ten shiny nails from Rushton Hall. She will be accompanied by the lovely Gentleman who I am sure will be resplendent in a blazer and slacks.


Sarah has a beautiful dress supplied indirectly by one of the countries leading heart surgeons, amazing hair by one of Londons top colourists and twenty nails by Rushton Hall.


I of course will try my best to find two matching socks and an outfit that will cover my rapidly expanding girth. If I have time I may even comb my hair.

Footnote.

Last week was a full year since I had my last cigarette. I smoked at least 20 a day since I was about 14 years old. 

I am now 3.5 stones heavier and still feel like my lungs are full of glue.

On a plus side food tastes absolutely amazing, I smell quite a lot better, and more importantly, I have increased my life expectancy by quite a few years.

I hope to fully reap the rewards this year as I concentrate on shedding those stones and shifting that glue.

Its nice to think there's a good chance I will be around to look after Mum for as long as she needs me.

Get my ass back into gear.

Sorry about the lack of blogs lately, no excuse really, just seemed to have lost a bit of momentum.


Going to do a couple of updates today and tomorrow. 


First things first had a lovely email which I will copy in its entirety......

Dear Jon

Just spent a really enjoyable hour or so reading your blog, and hope you won't mind me putting a link to it on a website I'm working on just now. If you do, please let me know.

I'm currently helping out as a volunteer with a website called A Carer's Voice  http://www.acarersvoice.com 

The site was started at the beginning of May by Ann Pascoe. She's a carer for her husband Andrew who like your mum has vascular dementia.  They live in Portgower, a tiny village on the east coast of Sutherland up here in the Highlands.

Through looking after her husband, Ann has become an active campaigner on behalf of carers.  She was recently awarded a travel fellowship from the Churchill Trust and as a result, the pair of them are now in Goa, India, on the first leg of a trip where she will be looking at new approaches to supporting carers of people with dementia. 

Ann has begun blogging on A Carer’s Voice with dispatches from Goa and Andrew, who's a keen photographer, is doing his own picture blog. It sounds like they're having fun - Ann(65) has been letting her hair down on the back of a scooter, doing yoga and sampling the delights of the local cuisine. Work-wise, she's been to visit a local care home, where she presented the manager with a little bag of Scottish Heather (some kind of drawer freshener) which the bewildered recipient apparently started to nibble at.

I wondered if you thought visitors to your site might be interested in keeping up with them via a link to us? They can get straight to the blog at

http://www.acarersvoice.com/category/ann-blog/ 

I'm attaching a recent press release about Ann and Andrew  - please feel free to contact me for any other information you'd like

And keep up the good work - the new site's looking excellent.

Regards

Peter 

A Carer's Voice 

Please have a look at the site and the blogs, its very very interesting reading, and gives a good perspective on how dementia need not be the end some people think.

Birthday Girl

Last weekend Mum hit the grand old age of 75 so the girls took her for a spa and manicure at Rushton Hall, former home of the all round good egg and total nutter that was Thomas Tresham.

Heres two sisters and a Mum having a spot of lunch to tide them over..

And Sarah having a low-cal power snack after the swim..

Nails done..

In the afternoon we saddled up and travelled all the way to Wellingborough for one of the best meals I have had in a long time at the Mien Tay restaurant. Excellent Vietnamese food.

All in all an excellent weekend. Mum continuously swinging between tears and laughter.

First update out of the way..off to barbecue some dead stuff then instalment number 2 will follow this evening.

A Problem

A Problem.

We seem to have a problem. Its in Mums new house, in the vicinity of the window. Its mainly first thing in the morning and last thing at night. We are struggling  to ascertain the exact nature of the problem.

It usually starts with Mum beckoning me either into her room or out of the front door. This will be followed by a lot of pointing and gesturing. Something around the window has met with her disapproval. This morning it started in the room at 10.00. We broke down the constituent parts...

• Do you like the window?      
• Yes
• Do you like the nets?             
• Yes
• Do you like the blind?           
• Yes
• Do you like the windowsill? 
•  Yes
• Do you like the view?            
• Yes
• So is everything ok?                
• No

Round and round and round we go. 

Can you tell me what the problem is Mum? Its....Ten.....its.....here......its........

Points and waves at the window.

Goes outside and points and waves more. 

After the best part of two hours of this I am crushed. 

Luckily we agree on a truce and adjourn for tea and toast.

As I write this I am preparing for this evenings bout.

Dementia causes a lot of crossed wires and short circuits. A sufferer will not see, hear, say or comprehend things in the same way as us. The problem that is manifesting itself to mum may not even exist in the "real" world. Maybe we will get to the bottom of it or maybe just a case of grin and bear it.

Copy.

In other matters, attended a copywriting course hosted by The Copywriting Coach. An excellent course and I am ignoring everything I learnt on the day here. Sorry Gillian! The main reason for attending  the course was to get valuable pointers for assembling the vast amount of draft material I have for dementiacarer.com and hopefully start to publish some of it. A great course and lots of useful information taken on board.

Cool Dad and other matters.

Another little story: Cool Dad

Out for a quick hobble with hoppalong the other day. We were doing one of our regular short walks as the weather didn't look too promising. Walking down a long hill through the estate  I heard a strange rumbling sound approaching from behind accompanied by a very polite voice saying "excuse me" "coming through" and other such phrases.

On turning round I was greeted by the wonderful sight of a man, probably early thirties, nice pinstripe suit, beautifuly cut hair blowing in the breeze. He was astride a childs scooter and approaching at a right old lick. "Thankyou" he said as he bunny hopped off the kerb and hurtled down the middle of the road towards the crowd of kids leaving the school. 

As he approached the kerb he performed a perfect tailwhip onto the footpath, handed the scooter over to his daughter and they headed back up the hill. The smile on her face was heartwarming to see. 


If I had ever had kids I would have been a dad like that. Except I would have probably fallen off. And my hair wouldn't have been as nice.

In other Matters.

Sorry about the lack of posts.

No excuse.

No news is good news really. As mum has vascular dementia there is no telling how the disease will progress. Her condition could stay fairly stable for a while then suddenly dip, or maybe there could be a gradual decline. This is one of the problems faced by a dementia carer, there can never be an accurate prognosis, every day, month and even year has to be approached with a totally open outlook.

No two consecutive days will be alike. The condition can change at the drop of a hat. Nice Mum can be chased away by nasty Mum at any time. The secret is learning to  read the signs and having ready to roll out diversionary tactics for whenever the need arises.

Mum has been doing a lot of swimming  with Fabia and yoga with Sarah and really enjoying both. We are also finding music can be a wonderful distraction when she becomes too confused or agitated. Putting on a CD can carry her away for a couple of hours or more. The Rites of Spring being a particular favourite.

Now I am once again working on the website it would be great to have  input from others who are using music or art in dementia care. Both are being used to great success and its something that I have only recently started reading about. Please feel free to contact me via the comments below if  this is an area you could maybe spare a few words about.

 

When random acts of kindness go wrong.

Popped down to the shops the other day to get a few bits and bobs. Couldnt get into any of the free spaces, noticing the abundance of wardens I duly coughed up my 70p, put the sticker in the window and into Sainsburys I went.

20 minutes or so later I am back at the car. As I had paid for the minimum 2 hours parking I passed the ticket to the lovely little old lady who had parked next to me. 

Ooh your so kind she said putting the sticker in her window and wandering off to the shops.

I drove the short drive home with a warm glow because of my random act of kindness. 

Anyway, getting the bags out of the car I noticed a carpark sticker in the window. 

Oh dear

I had given her the wrong ticket.......

So if any of you know a lovely little old lady who is moaning about an aged hippy causing her to get a parking fine...

Tell her I'm sorry.

A little story and more.

A little story.

The other night on twitter I told a little story, a little something that happened on that day. I didn't really expect anyone to notice it but got quite a few nice responses. I'll tell it here too.


About eighteen months ago we had some wardrobes built by a local joiner, Scott, lovely bloke, Buddhist but that's not important. Our paths have crossed maybe once or twice since then and we always had a quick chat. Skip to this week, Mum was out for a little walk round the block, something we encourage, trying to promote as much independence as possible. I get a knock on the door, its Scott. He had seen Mum walking along on her own and knowing her condition drove up to make sure she hadn't wandered off. 


That's it really. Just nice to know there are still people looking out for others.

In other matters

Apologies for  the lack of blogs, but generally that's a good thing as it means there's not a lot happening. Mum seems to be taking longer and longer to get going in the morning, she says she is sleeping well in her "little house" maybe its just the progression of her dementia.

There is also still some confusion at night, she will sometimes go to bed only to reappear full dressed again an hour or so later. We tried getting her in a shower then into pyjamas after tea, then watch a little tv but that just seemed to confuse her more. We will leave her to her own devices for now, just gently persuade her back to bed when she appears.

It looks like the wardrobe doors can stay, no complaints about them for a week or so. That means the rooms are all done, Mum all settled in and feeling at home. Brilliant. 

She has given up on assembling the pistachio mound  and has taken instead to stockpiling crème fraiche in her room. Just have to pop in every now and then when she's not looking to check what's being hoarded next.

Hols.

Plans are now starting for this years caravan holiday. If you missed reading last years its worth going back to have a look, some interesting pics and stories. This year, all being well we are off to the south of France in September. Three days drive down, a week there and 3 days back so looking for interesting stop off points on the journey. Suggestions most welcome!

I've been playing around with "Instagram" on my phone, here's a couple of pics from it.

Flower Arranging

The finished article.

Cake

Going Visiting

 

Down to Norfolk on Monday evening to drop Mum at Fabia's. They are attending a talk about the poet John Clare at the Marshlands Society, then the pub. Tuesday they will go to Norwich to see the Nutcracker then weather permitting Hunstanton for a picnic before the Mummy Returns on Wednesday.


Sarah has a week off work using up Holidays before the change of job so we stay up late on Monday, dont do the dishes and turn the music up to nearly 3.5. Party on dudes.

On Tuesday we travelled up north to meet fellow blogger and twitterer @beeze. Or Bee as she is known in real life. On the way stop off for a cup of tea in Wigan with another Twitterer @aliegorey where I promptly fell in love with this..

I think the time may be right to rejoin the biking fraternity.


From Wigan on to Ramsbottom. 

I have now met three people who I know solely from twitter and all have been lovely people, Bee is no exception. I have mentioned Bee's blog a few times as the one that got me started, as she cares for her mother, another dementia sufferer. Its a funny feeling walking into a house you have seen so many times in photos, almost like walking on to the set of a tv show or movie.

A great lunch on the patio, home made quiche to die for followed by this..

..absolutely amazing carrot cake. The afternoon simply flew by, comparing notes and tips, Sarah and I had intended to visit the peak district for a walk on the way back but have to make a dash for home for Sarahs first visit to Beer and Books. Good turnout again. lots of spirited discussion and beer. All in all a cracking couple of days off, and the weather was an amazing bonus too!