Saturday, 22 November 2014

D is for Dementia



I'm not going to lie the past six months have been a mixture of sheer despair and desperation, I cry and cry I accept the situation then I can't then I cry.You see my mum has gone from a bubbly woman who gets bored of the perfectly lined Laura Ashley wallpaper and turns it into something out of Country Living with her own two hands, to a woman that sits before me struggling to put a glove on her hand, when in fact its not a glove its a manky old sock. I want to say hey mum that's a sock lets get you dressed you can act normal now please joke is over, really really long joke is over now. But I can't because my mum's personality has completely changed she is no longer my mum, she even smiles differently.

The trouble is she doesn't believe she has a problem each appointment (and believe me there are many) we have to trick her into going with the promise that we will take her to a garden centre or for a meal. She never knows why we're there and we have doctors with zero empathy trying to get us to say whats wrong in front of her without completely hurting my mum's feelings, how do you say yes she sees imaginary stick men who make jewellery and she doesn't wash or clean her teeth anymore, she calls a clock a box with numbers oh but besides that everything is fabulous.

My mum has a history of depression, booking holidays and then crying on the bed saying she doesn't want to go at the last minute, she had little to no social life her home was her life hence where I have inherited the passion for interior design -  I had a drill in my hand at age 11. Now that home stinks is unkempt, no pristine bed linen not plush cushions. Then there is the dramatic weight loss that had us stumped see she doesn't remember to eat she's gone from a voluptuous fourteen stone woman who relished eating clotted cream and scones at 10pm whilst watching Downton to a mere six stone shell who can't turn the television on, and when I turn it on for her she cannot concentrate on it for more than a second.

Me and my sisters sought a diagnosis back in July its only this Wednesday when I received a call to say that my mum has swollen ventricles. I ask the consultant 'so do you think its dementia' her response 'from what you've told me' oh dear. And to top all of my poor dad has to deal with my mum knocking on his wall (they are separated but live together families eh?!) at 2am to say can we go to Sainsbury's. My dad can't cope as he had a head injury when I was four, so getting him to persuade her to take medicine involves him remembering. This is where the social services step in, but that's another hurdle we have to leap. Then there is the constant guilt of me not being there enough but when I am she is agitated and confused as to why I'm taking the scissors, digital camera, notepads, 15 cushions off her bed. And when I leave the house I feel relief then a wave of gut wrenching guilt, I should move back in, I should quit my job, I should dress her myself, I should I should do so many things but she doesn't want help.

The purpose of this post is for me to both have a cathartic vent but for anyone else who is going through the same to not feel so completely alone, and to raise awareness that when you see that person wandering down the street clothes on back to front hair unkempt they're not scary or loopy they most likely have dementia.

I hope that if I reach sixty seven like my mum is and I get dementia that there is a greater understanding and awareness of this cruel disease, I know many many people who go un-diagnosed and having to wait five months to get my mum's just shows how desperately the process needs to improve.

If Terry Pratchett can live with this disease I hope my mum can to.


http://www.alzheimersresearchuk.org/

http://www.dementiablog.org/terry-pratchett-on-dementia/

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Monday, 1 September 2014

Kan Ik Woon Hier?

 Oh hello there I promise the holiday snaps will end after this post!
 So it was Ben's 30th on the 20th August and I managed to surprise him with a trip to Amsterdam we stayed at the absolutely beautiful Fusion Suites which is right near the Van Gogh and Rijksmuseum. Seriously if you love boutique hotels then Fusion is the place for you, Sharmila the owner has exquisite taste and will time your breakfast so you eat alone as she cooks fresh eggs and crepes in her beautiful kitchen.

Now Amsterdam is my dream city, all the buildings are old and beautiful. And do not get me started on the residents, pastel coloured scooters whizz down the narrow street.Gorgeous women cycling with heels and babies strapped to their chests, it seems multitasking and cycling go hand in hand. My favourite area was definitely the famous nine streets, and the Noord market was wonderful,full of antique treasures and freshly baked pastries. I have never been to a city where there is so many long queues for museums but they were worth it, although my favourite sight didn't even have a queue, it was the Royal Palace, simply sumptuous opulence. I felt like I could live in Amsterdam it filled me with creative energy like I could simultaneously open a cinema, art gallery store and flitter around on a bicycle carrying flowers and bread, a girl can day dream right? Now it's back to reality, well I'm planning Halloween and a trip at Christmas aha. 






























Saturday, 30 August 2014

Holiday Snaps: Croatia

Is anyone still there? Apologies for my lack of blogging but life has certainly being throwing some turd my way of late! Any who, I had a two week holiday in mid August first week Croatia and then a few days in Amsterdam. It has been complete bliss to only worry about what national heritage sights to peruse.

Croatia is such a beautiful country, the people were so warm and friendly, and boy was the weather hot. I managed to not get burnt, which is always something of a miracle, just a lot more freckles.We stayed on a little touristy island called Okrug Gornji it was very beautiful and a short boat trip to the beautiful Venetian style island of Trogir, which I just simply adored. With its winding little streets and beautiful church it was a definite favourite. 

We also went to Krka National Park, which was something of a touristy nightmare I'd been informed it would be suitable for my Dad who walks with a stick but 250 steps down with hundreds of people trying to rush past is not very realistic for people who require a lil extra assistance! Nevertheless it was indeed very gorgeous sight, I particularly enjoyed the nuns admiring the views!

Hope you are well


Inca helping me with my packing



Vampyr in a bikini




Idiots on a hammock


Looking like a picnic



I got crabs!


It's important to match your snacks to your bikini


 A friend I made











Look my eye was there!