More words from The Bitch

So the last 48 hours have brought more bitchiness from your truly, according to the Fount of All Wisdom, my mother.

After her little volcano-like temper of Monday, on Tuesday, I took her out shopping.  We sat quietly at a cafe, and I tried to explain to her what was happening to her brain, and what it means to have dementia.  She seemed to grasp the concept well, and could see my point when I explained that what had been happening was that when she was "unplugged" (which is actually very similar to my amnesias), she puts things away carefully, in some place which her brain at that time deems to be safe.  Then when she's back with us and plugged in again, none of us can find anything other than her scotch bottle (which always lives in the fridge).

So she realised and readily agreed with me, when I suggested that it might be a good idea for me to hold on to her wallet, her bank cards, important cards, and her cheque books, so that they didn't get hidden somewhere safe when she was unplugged.  I made a point of promising her that I would never spend her money, nor would I ever withhold any money from her if she needed or wanted it for any reason.

Yesterday morning (Wednesday), things were chugging along as normal, when she demanded to know who had "stolen" her wallet.  Ray tried to reason with her, and she physically lashed out and pounded him on the chest and stomach - which he said later actually hurt quite a lot.  His internal organs are affected by leukaemia, so I daresay she banged on his liver and spleen, neither of which would not have enjoyed the experience.  She screamed blue murder at him, at which point I intervened.

She started to have a go at me, when I held her shoulders and ordered her to calm down, while I endeavoured to remind her of the previous day's discussions.  She said she never would have agreed to any such arrangement.  So I went into my room, shut the door, and proceeded to get out all of her things, and then went back outside with them.

I sat and counted her money with her - down to the last 5 cents in her coin purse - before she believed me, that no-one had spent any of her money, no-one had stolen anything, that it was simply being held with my wallet and cards for safe-keeping.

Her temper tantrum came and went like a breeze, and she returned to her normal self.  In order to try and create some new weather in the household quickly, I suggested that she might like to come to South Bank with me while I got my hair cut.  She pounced on that idea and said that sounded like fun.

So off we set, with said wallet, cheque book and purse, in my handbag, for a day at my crazy hairdressers.  Three hours later she had sat patiently while they did my hair, and put in a colour - which she offered to pay for - and it wasn't cheap!  Then we went in search of something to eat, and got the bus home.

Again, after two scotches she wanted to know where her money was, and I reminded her of its safekeeping with my things.  She was so drunk, she just went to sleep anyway.  No apology for poor battered Ray :(

Today produced more of the same, but at least this time she didn't lay into Ray.  She just complained to me all day about how unpleasant it was to live at home now.  I countered that by saying that she could always go into a retirement village or a nursing home, which remark brought instant silence.

Heaven only knows what tomorrow will bring... Lord, give me strength!