Tuesday this week started a little fraught..and mostly continued that way.
Mum had dressed in a pair of trousers and a jumper…over her PJs, and insisted that was fine and that she was wearing underwear. (She wasn’t). It’s hard to argue with someone so practiced at informing people black is white and white is black, so I went a different route and insisted on showering Mum so we could start again and I could sneak those pesky undies in and the PJs out.
We survived Tesco (appropriately dressed), although Mum has started doing a bit of a cartoon character impersonation by pushing the trolley a small distance and then insisting her feet don’t move anymore. This results in a 45 degree stretch and me having to grab the trolley to push it back until she remembers her feet do move in the forwards direction after all…
On the way back, Dad had given us a card to post. The house number was a mystery but Mum insisted that once we got to the road she would know which house it was. She didn’t. I posted it anyway. Liz and John, one of your neighbours may have your card.
Next we made pasties with a bit of added sulk. By the time we finished I think Mum had forgotten she wasn’t talking to me though and as I put my coat on to go asked me to sort out her knitting…
Apparently the pasties were good though, and while Mum couldn’t finish hers, Dad ate his and what she had left, so that was a positive.
And the biggest positive? The Secret Plan is working! Mum went out with the lady last week and this week to rave reviews! It turns out the secret to the success of The Secret Plan is to not tell Mum about it. At all. Apparently that is a thing with people with dementia: forward planning can be too overwhelming as while most things are forgotten, plans can become a fixation. So with most things now – as Dad said the other day ‘Mum’s the word’ (terrible joke, Dad) 😁
In other news, while we were in Tesco I spotted this and bought it for myself. I’ll let you know how accurate the claim is. Two days in, I am not convinced… 🤓
