Originally this post was the introduction to 'Apron Strings" on Feb 1st. But I've since realised it is very much a separate post and requires it's own space.
Inevitably at some point dementia wipes the slate clean, sometimes for a few minutes other times longer. All of this is the precursor to the dreaded day that memory is gone for good.
I'd experienced it once before a few months ago when I called in at lunchtime to tell my friend the cleaner was coming. He was terse with me, like I stood before him accused of a wrong doing that neither of us knew was about. I asked him what I'd done wrong and he said he couldn't say anything until the lawyers got there! I replied that I was just there to tell him about the cleaner and left. I left in a flood of tears that he never saw, I was worried that he'd forgotten our friendship and was now seeing me as the devil! It was a shock and a heartbreak combined. The grief of losing my Dad and my dog had left me less resilient.
But I'd forgotten that it passes, I just had to wait for the switch to flip and all would be ok. And it was, I found that out quickly when the cleaner couldn’t work out how to get in and he wasn't answering her. She made me go back there, because she was from a care agency legally, she couldn’t leave until she knew he was safe. I gingerly opened the back door and called out a few times, and he appeared and spoke to me like there was never an issue. I left and cried in relief.
Today I had a phone call where it was clear that the slate hadn't just been wiped, it was momentarily obliterated. I'd been there earlier in the day, I'd taken him a coffee and we'd sat outside talking for a while. A few hours later I get a call all very formal announcing his full name and that he'd been in the house, which he's told is his, for months and no one had been near him. He has no money and he's not even receiving any bills. I said I'd been with him earlier, he replied "well I didn't see you". I said I brought you a cup of coffee. He moved on to say he's not having a go at me. I was in the next town, so I tell him I'm heading home soon and I'll come past and see him and we'll talk. He's happy with that.
Less than 2 minutes later the phone rings again and we have the same conversation. Except this time new information has been added to the situation he's experiencing. I tell him that I'll be there soon and will look into all of it for him. Then we chat about the birds chirping in the back ground.
By the time I got to his house all was well again. I stayed for a while and got him dinner. He was as cheery as he was when I left him in earlier in the day.
Moments like these are stressful, particularly when I'm a distance away. My immediate reaction is to fix it. But often with dementia you have to allow time for these moments to fix themselves.
