There have been some interesting developments this week on a couple of fronts.  I now contact carers by text to suggest their daily focus.  This prevents us having to catch up by whisper or sign language when they arrive.  I have already texted Chloe this morning to advise her of Maureen’s concern about today’s funeral.  If I felt Chloe or Gail needed a little more information on how Maureen has been since their last visit I can always forward extracts from my blog. The other interesting development in the last week has been playing Maureen records that remind her of younger days.

The music idea came from another helpful conversation with Yvonna at Lloyd’s Pharmacy.  She mentioned an experiment where music had been used to transform the behaviour of people with significant disabilities.  Maureen seems to be transformed back to her youth when she sings along to Nat King Cole or Frank Sinatra.  Her recollection of those old favourites is remarkable, and I can almost see her dancing around her parents’ front room as she listened to this music as a teenager.

The other benefit of rejuvenating Maureen’s interest in ‘raves from the grave’ is a new found hobby for me.  I have had great fun trawling Charity Shops for old records.  Finding hidden gems at 50 p gives great pleasure.  It’s amazing what some folk donate, and we are the beneficiaries of their generosity.

Sunday morning was been an eye opener on Maureen’s functional capacity.  Her struggle to put out the washing gave an insight on her ability to carry out one of her favourite tasks.  When a neighbour called in I was surprised she offered to make him a drink.  Unfortunately, she served him a cup of coffee that was stone cold.   A little later in the morning I caught her just before she poured boiling water onto a cup containing fenugreek seeds rather than coffee.  

There is little doubt that I need to be extremely vigilant as Maureen’s dementia continues to progress. I need to prompt her more than ever on how to carry out basic tasks.  Routines and regimentation now need to become an integral part of our lives.     We have made a good start on this front by having a music slot on most evenings.  It has also given us a lovely end to the day.  However, Maureen’s presentation is so changeable at the moment that I couldn’t predict that this new found interest will stay the distance of another week.

Footnote: The really good news – I’ve perfected the art of joining Maureen for siestas.

Maureen slept for five hours yesterday afternoon.  She was completely exhausted after a herculean effort supporting her Aunty Clarice.

Following chatting with Clarice on Wednesday morning I changed my mind, and decided to tell Maureen that her Uncle Dennis had passed away.  Her immediate response was to want to share her Aunty’s grief.  Maureen and Clarice are close in age, and could be taken for sisters.  They have always been very close, and when they get going are like a couple of teenagers.  Dennis often used to say to me: ‘listen to them they’re off again…’

Maureen was a revelation trying to support Clarice with all she’d got.  Clarice knew that dementia was taking its toll on Maureen ability to help: particularly when it came to choosing an outfit for the funeral.  Even the shop assistant grasped that Maureen had dementia; tactfully returning a pair of skin tight velvet trousers to the rail: hardly the funeral attite for an 84 year old.

On our return journey from nearby Louth we called in for a Carvery.  The food was dreadful, and we would have complained if we had not been in company.  If Dennis had been with us he would have gone through the roof as he had been a chef of high renown.

Shortly after we arrived home Maureen took to the sofa, and when she  awoke just before 9 pm I served a late tea.  We sat listening to records following our snack, and Maureen sang away to her hearts content.  She even took to the ‘dance floor’ a couple of times, and complemented me on my ability to lead.  Two hours later it took me a while to persuade her that it was time to turn in, and she moved upstairs with some reluctance.  Once in the bedroom her mode changed: she became distant and frightened.  I took to the spare room to ease her concern.

I awoke a couple of hours later to the sound of her muttering in the next room.  After a visit to the bathroom I slipped into her bed;  announcing my arrival with my trademarked affected cough.  We chatted for a while as she sought information about the records I had played earlier on.  When I told her I had bought a particular favourite in Louth the previous afternoon she commented that she didn’t know I’d been with her and Clarice. My presence had been blocked out as she concentrated on supporting her Aunty.  All of this is: ‘very interesting’, as my dear old dad would say.

I need to keep my tentative conclusions, from yesterday, firmly in mind at all times.  Timing is critical with dementia: I waited until the right moment to tell Maureen that her uncle has passed.  It would have been a crime to deny Maureen the opportunity of supporting her Aunty.  The day also showed the dynamic nature of dementia: you never know what you are going to get after Maureen has slept. Whenever she comes round after rest I need to try to fathom her reality or I could easily be in trouble.  The one thing I can always be sure of though is ‘music is magic with dementia’: providing you hit the right note (tune).  I will post more on theme tomorrow when I review my Good Music page.

As I posted yesterday Maureen feels that her family don’t know where she is, and that is why she never hears from them.  She doesn’t remember that any of them have ever been here.  In the last few days we have missed phone calls from family members.  It’s possible that our answer phone is not working.  When I have mentioned to Maureen that her relatives have called she is reluctant to return their calls.  She says she will phone them the later but never does.

It is important to try to bring to an end this breakdown in communication, so that Maureen understands her family still care about her.  There seems a fairly simple way forward. It’s clear that using the phone is not easy when you have had stroke, and dementia has followed.   I can fully understand why Maureen dreads incoming calls, and is reluctant to make calls: the telephone highlights her poor memory.  When callers ask her questions she has to confabulate because she can’t remember how she has been spending her time.

I think there is a way for Maureen to reconnect with her family by using guidelines from the Alzheimer’s Society.  They stress the importance of keeping phone calls: short; language simple; only giving positive information; and not asking any questions.

I am going to ask my sister to make a call in the next few days to mention that she is popping up to see us on Saturday.  Jill understands dementia well from her involvement with her mum, and brother.  We have often discussed the importance of a dementia friendly approach to phone calls.  If all goes well I will share our little experiment with the wider family.  I’ll keep you posted on how it goes……

Jill: I’ll call you later to suggest a good time to phone.  It may well not be today as we’re off to a difficult start as no clothes fit or belong to her!