Yeah, I know I'm necromancing....but it saves having to go over all the background again.
9 months along, and my mother's dementia has progressed quite a bit. She still recognises me as someone she knows when I visit, but usually as her cousin. One rather nasty time, it was as someone she fancied as a boyfriend. She's lost all memory of the rest of the family, and seems to be now living in her 20s: talks often about what she does with her parents (dead some 50 years now), and refers to herself by her maiden name (2 marriages and about 60 years ago now).
The other day, we were looking at a bird flying in the garden. Stuck for conversation, and wanting to get her brain started, I said "what do you think it would be like if we could fly? Do you think we would fly to the shops, or do you think we'd be too lazy and still go by car?"
Her response was "oh, I used to be able to fly you know. I don't any more though". Not a joke, or a legpull, this was completely serious.
So that is the extent to which she is gone. Her mobility has also plummetted, and she now shuffles along where only a year ago she would be strolling along with no worries. Unfortunately, the home she is in has told me that because she needs more one-to-one constant care, I need to look for somewhere else. She needs someone with an eye on her all the time, because little things can set her off and she will shout and kick, and it is upsetting the other residents. They simpyl don't have the levels of staff available to have someone there to distract her before it goes off. They're very nice about it - no rush - but I've got to go through all the searching for homes again.
I said before I could see why people stop visiting, and to be honest I don't think I'm far off that point now. Last week I stood across the road for several minutes before I could force myself into crossing and going in. I know that in an hour I am going to see her again (I go every Tuesday in my lunchbreak) and am dreading it. To the extent that I am thinking about homes further away rather than nearer so that I have an "excuse" not to visit as often.
She isn't my mother any more. She still looks the same, but the person inside is someone I have no knowledge of or connection with - sometimes disturbingly so.
Being totally honest, I' just waiting - and in fact hoping - that she will soon die. Selfishly, yes, for me, to take this dark cloud away, but also for her. She spend so much of her time now in a world that she doesn't understand and can't connect with - she basically is unable to read anymore, and can't grasp the words to hold a conversation, even if she had a common frame of reference to work with. Often she is sad, or scared, or bewildered, more so now than she is happy.
That's all. Thanks again for letting me vent.