One of our carers  likened recovery from a stroke to: walking uphill through treacle with snow boots on.  I am not sure what additions are necessary when dementia is also present: perhaps a blindfold.

I think we are on the lower slopes today and the blindfold is firmly in place.  Just to make it clear I am talking about me now – the carer.  My carefully laid plans have come to nothing and M is hiding in bed.  No matter what I suggest there appears to be no way forward with semantics and blocking the order of the morning, to any suggestions I make.  All I can do is hope that sleep is curative and the smell of lunch will do the trick.

Little point in going into detail it’s just one of those mornings.  Who knows what the afternoon will bring?