Today is Mothers’ Day and my brother John’s birthday.  As readers of this Blog will know mum has mixed dementia; John has Alzheimer’s.  This post argues that with dementia in the room it may be sensible to let such days pass without special celebrations.  Maureen’s reaction to a Mothers’ Day Card yesterday supports this assertion.

Maureen and I have never placed great stock on celebrating Special Days.  For some years we have recycled cards and bought each other token presents.  When we used to go to Portugal for Christmas we always said that we had paid for each other’s holidays.  I have often said to Maureen that her ongoing presence is my present.  However, we respect that everyone has a right to celebrate events in their own special way.

When dementia is a feature in lives then a different perspective needs to be taken on matters.  I have sent cards to my mum and brother.  Neither of them would know it was a Special Day unless they were reminded: John doesn’t know his own wife any longer, mum knows us if we prompt her.  I would suggest that every day is a special day for someone with dementia: reminding them that they have forgotten a Special Day may be unwise.

The arrival of a Mothers’ Day card here yesterday caused Maureen distress, rather than pleasure.  She couldn’t read it, and was unsure who it was from.  She then said ‘I can’t remember what he looks like any longer’. The card has now been stuffed in her handbag inside a calendar from last year.

In my view it is better to let such days pass without any form of acknowledgement or celebration.  I will visit my mum and brother (pictured above) next weekend.  It will be unkind to spend more than half an hour with my mum.  With luck she will manage to stay awake.  Hopefully she will let me hold her hand.  It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t know who I am as long as she feels safe and loved.

My visit to see John may be even shorter.  He will look at me and smile.  I have no idea if he knows who I am.  Again I will hold his hand and show my appreciation of the kindness he has shown me throughout my life.  If some of his ‘lovely ladies’ that look after him are around his interest in me is likely to be minimal.

Every day is Special whenever I’m able to visit Coventry and see my family.  I realise how lucky I am that they have been such great support to me in the last 70 years.  If National Express are on time, and local buses are on schedule, I might even get to see my sisters, daughter and her family: that would make it a really Special Day.  

We are extremely grateful for the support we receive from the National Health Service.  I posted praise for the good service we receive from our Medical Centre yesterday.

Yesterday morning, Maureen’s examination went well.  She was so relieved that things are fine.

I had my scan on my left shoulder in the afternoon.  I have a tear in my rotator cuff that may need surgery.  We are both very grateful that we are to be able to call on the NHS whenever we have concerns about our health.

Maureen was a revelation in her preparation to see her G P.  She showered and was ready in good time for her appointment.  We have all been concerned with her reluctance to shower and wash her hair in the last few weeks.  I’ve heard carers try to cajole her in that direction on many occasions without success.  Yesterday she did it of her own volition with minimal assistance.

She was a different woman yesterday morning: up and on the go at a time when she would normally be reluctant to get out of bed.  Having a purpose for the morning clearly made a difference and provides real food for thought.

Once again I’m posting to praise the superb service we always get from Clee Medical Centre. Maureen asked me to get her an appointment this morning.  I phoned shortly after 8 am and fathomed my way through a new automated service.  Dr Ravinder Munjal her G P phoned me back within half an hour to arrange a consultation at 11 am.

I don’t know how they do it but Clee Medical Centre are able to offer exceptional availability of Medical Practitioners at a time when it is difficult to recruit staff in North East Lincolnshire.  We continually count our blessings for the support we receive from all staff at our Medical Centre. 

I have been concerned lately about how much Maureen has been sleeping: last night her short doze on the sofa came to my rescue.  Around 9 ‘o’clock ‘I Iost it’, and a rather heated exchange took place. I had been dozing myself whilst watching T V, and awoke as Maureen came into the room.  Several misunderstandings took place in our interaction, and I ended up telling Maureen to go away in my best Anglo Saxon.  A short while afterwards I tried to dig myself out of a big hole, and Maureen suggested I might like to sleep in the car.

It is possible that I had waited my moment to tell Maureen to ‘go away’, as she had used the same parting shot as I left for London a couple of weeks ago.  If revenge is sweet I was certainly not experiencing a warm feeling at all:  in fact quite the opposite for needlessly upsetting the apple cart. If Tim, one of my nephews had been with us last night I know what he would have said: ‘language Uncle Paul’.  He wouldn’t have liked me talking like that to one of his ‘Favourite Ladies’.

I let Maureen doze for half an hour after my expletive and then played Prince Charming.  Sleeping Beauty woke up with no apparent memory of my misdemeanour.  It’s one of the few occasions when I’ve been grateful for the consequences of dementia on Maureen’s memory.

I’ll try to stick to plain English from now on!

I’ve got it now the solution to all my struggles of being a Care Partner for Maureen.  All I have to do is go next door sit on the stairs, pour out all my troubles to Kate and ‘Hey Presto’ things change.  A couple of hours after I unburdened myself to my neighbour Mrs Dementia had scarpered and Maureen was back home.

Towards the end of the afternoon I mentioned that I needed to go to the Post Office.  Before I could say ‘Jack Robinson’ Maureen had her boots and fleece jacket on.  Just for once we both had gloves on and braved the cool air without too much discomfort.  On our return we added further distance to our walk to see the Holiday Camp coming to life as the season is about to begin.

As we prepared our tea I fired up the record player and we sang along to Johnny Nash. We continued singing along with the odd move on the kitchen floor as we tidied up after our meal.  Just before kick-off Maureen decided that it was time for bed.  She returned downstairs at half time and I mentioned that we were already 1-0 down.  I accompanied her upstairs and helped her into bed in time to hear the second-half .

Things didn’t get any better in the second half as are keeper spilled the ball and we ended up losing 2-0.  I’m wondering if ‘Mogga’ needs time on the stairs to sort the Sky Blues out.

One other result of sitting on the stairs’ that is quite amazing.  When I returned to bed after a loo visit Maureen calmly said ‘who’s that’?  No loud scream or upset at all.  So it appears my time in the naughty corner paid off perhaps I’ll have a chat about football on Saturday morning.  If I don’t do something soon it will be another season in Division One for Coventry City.

The words of the ‘Beast of Bolsover’ came to mind this morning when my neighbour said I could sit on the stairs and talk to her.  I needed some wise counsel and as as Kate used to be a head teacher I duly took my place.  I’d better set the record straight here: she was standing in the hall blow drying her hair at the time, prior to a lunch date.

Kate has a sharp mind on many issues and understands dementia from supporting her mum.  I needed to talk to someone about ‘Sleeping Beauty’s’ reluctance to move herself from the sofa.  We chatted as Kate put the finishing touches to her appearance.  She is always prepared to share her experiences after years of supporting her mother.

We concluded that this cold and damp spell was the problem, rather than Maureen.  As I said to Kate as I was leaving; only those who have a lunch date or a doctor’s appointment would venture out in this weather.

I can’t recall being put in the naughty corner when I was in Primary School.  Despite being retired for a while now Kate still knows where to put pupils when they are attention seeking: Dennis Skinner would have approved I’m sure!

I suppose it had to happen ‘Elvis’ came back to the Ricoh almost a year after he was sacked and claimed all three points.  Someone needs to tell him that he spoiled my day.

I made up my mind yesterday to put into practice something I’d read in the week.  Several research projects have suggested that gardening has a positive effect for those who have dementia.  My only problem yesterday was that I knew it would be too cold for Maureen to join me outside, or for me to stay  in the garden for very long.  So throughout the morning I popped outside for ten minutes at a time.  Maureen stayed in the warm, supervising my efforts from the patio doors in the dining room.

As I pottered she watched my efforts as I improved the prospect from our dining room. After several bursts of activity I introduced some colour, and order into what had become a tired scene.

We took our mid-morning break and I sat back with some satisfaction looking at how four additional polyanthus, along with some tidying up, had added a splash of colour to what had become a very tired scene.

After a warming lunch I sat back to my usual Saturday afternoon.  The Sky Blues were unchanged from their last match a 6-0 victory over Bury, and I anticipated another high scoring win against Fleetwood.  Elvis spoiled all that as his team ran out 2-1 winners.  I know it is rather silly but my mood always dips when we lose.  It could have been worse as my bet would have already been down had the bookies accepted my wager that not only would we win the league but we would be unbeaten for the rest of the season.  Thankfully my quid at 20-1 is still on.  I think the odds would have been even better after the way they played yesterday!

By the way for the uninitiated ‘Elvis’ is Steven Pressley the dastardly manager of Fleetwood Town. Just as Coventry City missed an opportunity to stay in touch with the leaders of the division I also failed to make the best of things.  Rather than slipping into despair about the fortunes of my team I could have turned it into an opportunity.   Elvis could have been artist of the night and Maureen would have waxed lyrical.  My disappointment with the footie meant that I failed to carry out my duties as the resident  D J.  Instead ‘we took an early bath’, as they say in the game, and were in bed by 9 pm.

I wonder if Maureen would have sang along to this one with some gusto?