Ugh, that's so hard, Steph. And I hate to say this, but it may just get worse until he's beyond knowing what's going on at all.
My SiL's mother has dementia and has been in assisted living for probably 10 years now, and SiL said that this is the worst time frame, dementia-wise, because he still remembers and knows enough to be agitated, but *doesn't* remember things like why he has to be in assisted living. SiL said that it's easier once he forgets more, which is sad, but I can also see that.
Is he in the apartment kind of assisted living? I.e., would he just be alone if you all weren't constantly visiting? He may be better off in a situation with more staff interaction, so they can be the ones to tell him what's up a thousand times a day.
It's not standalone housing; he's in a studio apartment-type room, but the facility where he is includes regular nurse/aide checks throughout the day and overnight, because he needs meds delivered and his new catheter has to be emptied every 4-6 hours (it's not difficult and he could do it himself if he remembered that he had it and why it's there and, more importantly, remembered how to empty it). And the staff members who organize the various activities throughout the day (every day there are at least 4 different things, generally more) will also come around to the rooms and try to rustle the residents up to go play cards or do seated yoga or listen to the musician, etc).
So he definitely has ongoing staff interaction throughout the day. Plus all his meals are in the dining room (which is VERY close to his room, and the [slow] stampede of residents who turn up in the hallway around 3:30 is HILARIOUS [the first seating is at 4:00, and they are READY for dinner), so he sits with other residents for that.
But in the end, his family is what he knows best, and it's the one thing he just keeps reverting to. Which I understand, but it's hard.
Pants Watch 2017 Update: For real, I still have NO IDEA if his new pants have been delivered yet. This is like waiting for that giraffe to give birth. WHEN WILL THE PANTS BE DELIVERED???
I just got a UPS notification of a package delivery scheduled at my house for tomorrow, and I can't think of anything I've ordered. So maybe it is Jack's pants?
My SiL's mother has dementia and has been in assisted living for probably 10 years now, and SiL said that this is the worst time frame, dementia-wise, because he still remembers and knows enough to be agitated, but *doesn't* remember things like why he has to be in assisted living. SiL said that it's easier once he forgets more, which is sad, but I can also see that.
Yeah, exactly that. I was just saying to my mother how this time with my father is so relaxing -- he's not upset, there's nothing to be done, etc. On the flip side, I think a lot of families just find it sad and depressing.
But in the end, his family is what he knows best, and it's the one thing he just keeps reverting to. Which I understand, but it's hard.
Yeah, super hard.
It is still early days. I know my grandmother goes back and forth between liking where she is and being angry at my uncle (and then there's the fighting with another woman over her "boyfriend," but that's another story!!!), but it took a while for her to get settled in at all.
I just got a UPS notification of a package delivery scheduled at my house for tomorrow, and I can't think of anything I've ordered. So maybe it is Jack's pants?
Sweet. Lemme know, and I'll come pick them up.
Amazing, Brenda! It is a weirdly small world.
(and then there's the fighting with another woman over her "boyfriend," but that's another story!!!)
Jack still has all his teeth and a full head of hair, and gorgeous blue eyes, and when he stops grumbling, he's quite a gregarious charmer. What I'm saying is, demographically speaking, he could have his pick of the ladies. But he needs to stop grumbling, put on some new pants, and go play pinochle.
For those contemplating my meatloaf recipe, I forgot a major part, one packet of onion soup mix. I kept looking at the recipe I put in and thought, "Wait, that's horribly bland, what did I leave out?"
There's a show on PBS tonight that looks fun, called Wild West. The blurb:
Comedy about a droll lesbian couple who own a shop in an eccentric Cornwall village, where witchcraft and wife-swapping are commonplace.
Catherine Tate's in it.
The cheesey meatloaf sounds great, and I may try making it, once I find a good no-carb substitute for breadcrumbs.
(On the one hand, I resent that I'm on this faddish eating plan, because I kinda hate all of the food bloggers who post the recipes I'm using. On the other hand, I have to admit that the stupid ketogenic diet is making a HUGE difference to my pain levels.)
Jack still has all his teeth and a full head of hair, and gorgeous blue eyes, and when he stops grumbling, he's quite a gregarious charmer. What I'm saying is, demographically speaking, he could have his pick of the ladies
After my Mom died, Dad started going to swing dancing nights, and was surprised at this thing happening to him. I had to explain to him that no, really, he was handsome and ridiculously charming.
