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.
But he needs to stop grumbling, put on some new pants, and go play pinochle.
I'm pretty sure his old pants would work fine as well!
The cheesey meatloaf sounds great, and I may try making it, once I find a good no-carb substitute for breadcrumbs.
Meatloaf without carbs is just denser, but still tasty!
But he needs to stop grumbling, put on some new pants, and go play pinochle.
I'm pretty sure his old pants would work fine as well!
This is a good thing, because I'm wondering if the "new pants" are a myth.
Man, I feel so welcome and inclined to go back to the Asian buffet where the cashier was too engrossed in his phone call during Monday lunch rush to bother with customers and angrily hissed at the host to come ring me up, sparking an argument in what I think was Vietnamese.
