Mental Decline & Dependency/Coping With Aging Loved Ones

Mental Decline & Dependency/Coping With Aging Loved Ones
Just remember, Walter, hitting your sister, or biting her, is Not Done. Regardless of provocation.

I hope that when she actually sees the situation for more than an hour or so, she will realize what you are dealing with and either help you or stop her interfering advice altogether.

Is BIL coming too? From what you have said previously, it seems that he won't be any help. So do your best to stay calm, and if you need to rant and vent, you know that A2K is a great outlet for such; we're always willing to listen.

I could say "Merry Christmas", but I think this year "Survive the Holidays" is more to the point.

Anyway, the best to you and Mrs Walter.

Mental Decline & Dependency/Coping With Aging Loved Ones
Noddy - I'm sending you the same seasonal wishes I just sent to Walter:.

Don't forget, we're here; we're glad to listen; you are in our thoughts.

Walter -- oh, that it wouldn't be so hard.

Are you and Mrs Walter about to enjoy some quiet time while your sister is available to tend to the ladies?

You're joking.

Well.... I wasn't, but if it gives you a good chuckle then I"m glad for it.

Walter--

Why shouldn't you and Mrs. W. make plans for an afternoon of diversion while your sister is available to cope?

Meanwhile, take TomKitten's advice about biting seriously. I just read in the local police notes that a local thug bit a dime-sized chunk out of his girlfriend's ear because she disrespected him.

He put the chunk in the freezer, but it couldn't be reattached.

Of course, while you were in jail, your sister would have to cope.

Hold your dominion.

We'll get over it, I', sure :wink:

Sigh.

For my birthday earlier this month, Mr. Noddy came in with an arrangement of silk flowers.

I very much dislike artificial flowers--and the question has come up in the past--but I said, "Thank you very much" and put them on the kitchen window sill in an honored position.

Several days later Mr. Noddy asked, "Did I really like the flowers?"

I replied that while I appreciated the thought, I didn't like artifical flowers.

He said, "They look real. They will last."

I said that they didn't look real to me and that not-lasting was part of the charm of flowers.

In spite of my low key approach, his feelings were wounded. He snapped that I could learn to like artificial flowers.

I let this pass for several weeks. When I noticed last week he was in a pre-present giving panic, I mentioned that I really coveted an expensive English carpet sweeper.

Mr. Noddy considers household tools suitable presents. I don't, but I'm willing to compromise.

The carpet sweeper arrived last night. I admired the carpet sweeper. In spite of being wobbly-legged from an intestinal bug, I swept with the carpet sweeper.

This morning I woke up and found a large, ugly and expensive arrangement of silk flowers. Even if I adored dusting silk flowers,
this is a ghastly creation.

The flowers and the basket are out of balance. It is an arrangement to fit a square space and not designed to be free standing. Not only is the arrangement at odds with the shape of the container, but the flowers are a jumble. The eye can find no line, no pattern to follow.

The flowers are all in fall colors--oranges, russet and maroon with a few blue flowers thrown in. Along with the left-over harvest assembly there are a goodly handful of fake oak leaves.

There are some lily-type flowers and some aster-type flowers, but these "types" couldn't be confused with real flowers.

The blue ribbon clashes not only with the autumn colors but with the blue flowers which were undoubtedly added because I like blue. Further the ribbon is ugly all on its lonesome.

The unseasonable silk flowers also clash with the Christmas greenery and with the blues of the furniture and rugs.

I can cope with the ugliness--the heart breaker is that Mr. Noddy ignored what I like (a part of what I am) and will want me to feel he is a very clever fellow.

Merry Christmas.

Mental decline


Taking the thought for the deed is hard; it's pretty difficult to be that objective, especially knowing what you have said here in the past about what Mr Noddy used to be. Do you think he may have the phrase "artificial flowers" stuck in his mind, without any accompanying recognition or memory of your dislike for them? Was ignoring your distaste for artificial flowers just a careless/thoughtless choice on Mr Noddy's part or is this, in fact, another aspect of his decline? Either way, of course, it's pretty devastating, and about all you can do is grit your teeth.

BTW - is the container destructible? Could it by chance fall off a shelf and break? Hmmmm?

At least you got the carpet sweeper...

Noddy- Why not look at this another way? It may not be what you like, but Mr. N. cares enough, and is thoughtful enough to give you something that he likes, which is the next best thing. From what you have written, I have concluded that Mr. N. is having problems with mentation. If it were me, I would be "grateful for small favors".

Mental Decline & Dependency/Coping With Aging Loved Ones
I know that each dislikable or upsetting act by a loved one - spouse, parent, whomever - is a separate event, and for me, at least, it was hard not to react accordingly. Each separate time I had to swallow whatever my normal reaction would have been.

Bob was a generous and caring man; he angered very slowly, while I am quick to strike out. Even small things, like not shutting the bathroom door, or double checking a lock, could grate, but remembering that he no longer had mental control of such things helped. At least, it helped me not to be quick to nag or criticize, although the other side of the coin is that it was emotionally devastating to know that he no longer had this control.

To be honest, it took me a long time to recognize this situation for what it was. This wasn't denial, but simply putting two and two together often enough to realize that Bob was slipping into permanent mental decline, and that quick criticism only made things worse. I don't really know how much worse such reaction was for him, as he had become increasingly quiet, even for him, but it certainly made things worse for me, because I always felt so guilty when I expressed it. Eventually, I learned to keep these reactions to myself, and even, in time, not to feel them at all, simply to tell myself "this is how it is" and weep for him, but not for anger.

Tomkitten- It was good that you eventually came to the place where you understood what was going on with your husband, and made allowances for it.

As I have mentioned, I facilitate a group for caregivers. The vast majority of the people who come through the group are women whose husbands are going through Alzheimers' or other types of dementia.

I have found that one of the most difficult things for a spouse to absorb is that the illness is slowly (or not so slowly) chipping away at the mind and personality of the individual. One of the lessons that needs to be learned before the caregiver gets some peace of mind is the realization that they are not living with the same person that they married, and that they need to develop coping skills to deal with the changes.

Happy Ending, Ladies.

When Mr. Noddy got up, I thanked him for the flowers and more importantly for thinking of me.

He told me how clever he'd been to see the marked-down Thanksgiving flowers and have the clerk add the blue flowers and the blue ribbon.

I said, "Thank you."

He repeated the tale of his shopping cleverness.

I said, "Thank you."

Finally, he stopped strutting and preening and said, "You don't like them."

Once again we established that I have a deep-seated horror of artificial flowers. I not only dislike them, I feel that they make a mockery of everything that real flowers mean. I loathe artificial flowers--and Mr. Noddy has been aware of this for 30 years.

He asked meekly whether I would mind if he gave the flowers to someone else. I agreed enthusiastically. I took the blue flowers and the blue bow off the Harvest Arrangement and used them to gussy up the rather skimpy birthday arrangement.

Both arrangements are much improved and he's gone off, happy as a clam, to deliver the first one to a friend who just had bypass surgery.

I am much happier.

As it is I live with as much visual pollution as I can stomach. Mr. Noddy insists that his possessions be spread out "so he can find them". We have a very small house.

I haven't been able to serve a proper dinner for six years because he must have his medicines and business papers spread out on the kitchen table at all times. He doesn't even want the table wiped--I have to do this by stealth.

In the bedroom he has his collection of baseball hats, more medicines and odds and ends of electronic projects spread over his bedside table and bureaus. He uses talcum powder liberally since he cut way back on bathing. Dusting is a nightmare.

The bathroom shelf is devoted to OTC medicine (which is too important to keep in the cabinet), four razors (each with a separate function) and other beard trimming equipment. Dusting here is also a major project.

His recliner in the living room is surrounded with sales fliers from the newspapers--read and unread, six weeks worth--audio-visual project and paperwork and all manner of paperwork for renting DVD's.

He is limited to three square feet of litter in my little study (a 12x5 space). He keeps insisting he needs more room--but he's not getting it.

In addition we have a number of very ugly knickknacks that were gifts from his children and grandchildren. Fortunately after a time of conspicuous display, I can rotate these to cupboards, out of sight.

I could not swallow any more visual pollution.

He explained that he knew I "had a thing about artificial flowers" but he had been sure that once I had seen a greater assortment of silk flowers that I would change my mind. Silk flowers looked so real and were so practical.

Yes, he had managed to forget all four conversations about the carpet sweeper. True, genuine forgetting.

The flowers were purchased in Masterful Mode. He knows I dislike artificial flowers. He knows I dislike artificial silk flowers. He'd just decided that since they were long-lasting and practical that I could learn to like them.

His intention was not to wound or to offend--but he wasn't offering unalloyed delight, either--and he knew this.

Mr. Noddy has never been a particularly talented gift-giver. I've learned to be grateful for any number of things that I don't like--I do appreciate the thought--unless the thought is that I can be educated out of a deep seated prejudice.

At any rate, there is a happy ending. I know both the destined recipients will be thrilled with the recycled arrangements. Mr. Noddy has shifted roles from Masterful Husband to Thoughtful Guest Bearing Good Gifts.

...and Happy Holidays to all.

I'm happy with you that it seems to be have got a happy ending (today), Noddy!

-----


We had a rather fine 1st Christmas Day, too: mother was on sedation today, sleeping all the time when we visited her. (Well, she looked up for a couple of seconds and then went on sleeping.)
And my sister's children and their spouses are visitng them today: no phone call from (until now) to us.

Mental Decline


Forget about the mockery, just view the silk flowers as a totally different animal, not flowers at all. Perhaps that will help.

Anyway, it sounds alike up with pretty much of a win-win situation, at least for now. I'm glad for you both.

Tomkitten--

Humor is my way of coping--and I must cope.

Mr. Noddy came in from his first flower delivery all delighted. He gave the reworked Blue Arrangement to the wife of his friend who has just had complicated bypass surgery. She burst into tears, she was so happy.

He feels like a very clever fellow--and I'm delighted that he's happy and that the flowers have found a kind and loving home and made another woman very happy.

After using the bathroom (Mr. Noddy no longer likes to use other people's bathrooms, but this is another, unrelated story) he set off with the Harvest Assortment. I know that his hostess adores all sorts of flowers and especially silk flowers because they look real and they are so practical.

She will be delighted. Mr. Noddy's ego will be boosted.

Happy endings.

Mr. Noddy is home from his gadding. His second Flower Recipient had 18 people--mostly her husband's family-- gathering for a family dinner. None of them brought holiday food, let alone flowers.

The woman was delighted.

Happy endings.


By the by here. I read over my posts to see whether I was really terribly unreasonable and saw I forgot to mention that I am--and have been for fifty years--a practicing Wiccan.

Giving me silk flowers is a bit like giving a Jewish woman a lovely little durable, realistic gold cross. Tacky.

I'm delighted that Mr. Noddy's largesse has found good homes--and that neither home is mine.

Mental Decline & Dependency/Coping With Aging Loved Ones


That explains the distaste you have for silk flowers, which did come across as rather surprisingly strong. Given your beliefs, however, it's a perfectly reasonable reaction to their artificiality. I'm glad you cleared that up.

TomKitten--

I assume that since you people know me so well, you'd know that I'm a Wiccan. My error--I do like to think of myself as the Center of the Universe.

How did your not-holiday on a holiday go?

I love happy endings.