Hmmmm. Well, my name is Rachel, and I am 25. I live with my brother, and analyse data for a living: yes, I am something of a geek. I have been low of late, and have decided it is high time I start some kind of blog as I am sure that I am not the only one in this boat.
My granny has dementia. I don't know the cause. She doesn't think there's anything wrong, and won't go to the doctor. Up until recently we were really very close, which I understand is something quite unusual - especially for "my generation". I'm in a funny old situation as I'm neither her primary caregiver (my grandad), nor the secondary caregiver (my mum), but still get very involved and probably take on far more emotional responsibility than I should.
Last night I was privy to a rather incredible display of vicious resentment and confusion from my granny, what I understand is called "the catastrophic reaction" in the literature. Convinced that my mum is her hated (late) sister, she let rip about what were obviously some long-held (although vague) resentments, rising from an incident the previous day when she and my granddad had arrived 10 minutes early to my mum's for tea to find an empty house – "We'd been waiting for two hours… I was colder than I'd ever been". She then began ranting about the one remaining carer who comes on a Monday being bossy and making her go out when she didn't want to. I think my mum finally lost her patience and chaos ensued.
I never thought I would have been in the situation where I was trying to calm down an argument between my granny and my mum, having my granny crying on my shoulder after my mum had (albeit briefly) stormed out. The problem is, dementia won't be reasoned with. Every time I tried my usual tactic of changing the subject, she started it all again. The facts were gone, but the feeling remained. My mum, mustering what I can only describe as incredible mettle, apologised profusely for the argument, and took full responsibility for the misunderstanding: "...I'm really sorry. Can we be friends again?". What came from my granny next was what shocked me: "No. I won't. You said some really hurtful things and I'm very upset now. You're always like this - bossy - you always have been."
After that I made my excuses and called my uncle and auntie to please phone my grandparents, in an attempt to calm things down. I don't know if it did. I told my mum we had to go – I just couldn't take any more.
Dementia is so cruel, and in its advanced phases I fear it has a way of baring the very worst parts of a person's personality. I never wanted to see the grandparents I idolised like this, but life happens – I just need to understand it better. I'm hoping this blog will help me explore the subject a bit more...
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