Nevertheless Dementia, We Persist

Lynne and I have good days and bad days. On good days she had her nail’s done and joined in a bell choir. One visit she finished her dinner and staff gave her an extra plate. She ate most of the chicken and mashed potatoes and avoided both broccolis. She used her fork or used her fingers without spilling. “This is so good.”
“Do want a piece of banana cream pie?”
She shook her head, “No, it’s …”
I corrected myself. “It’s lemon meringue pie.”
She nodded, “Yes.”

Suddenly she shook her head, “That’s (name). She’s a piece of work.” She was listening to dining room voices. She’s upset with residents and staff several times and needed to be restrained. They will slightly increase Resperidone to calm her.
I told her the ultra scan after my vascular surgery looked good. She was pleased.
“I told her the story of the dangerous vascular surgeon’s offices on the 14th and 11th floors. I walked down from 14th to 11th floor and got locked out in the stairways. I had to exit into the garage.” She looked concerned.
Staff said they were locked because of Covid, so I suggested they warn your patients.” “My vascular patients don’t use the stairs. You’re an exception.”
By the time I left the office had full-page signs in a plastic holder. I complained, “Wait, you didn’t give me any credit at the bottom of the sign.” They laughed. Lynne laughed.
I told Lynne I walked uphill for three blocks to the bus stop with my right hip muscles and glutes tightening up so hard I had to sit to recover. The doctor explained the soreness was expected after my surgery. “Keep walking and blood may find a way to get there in 6 to 12 months. If not, you’ll have to live with it.”
Lynne was concerned. I said, “That’s OK. If I have to, I’ll buy a scooter.” She laughed.

Her oldest twin had a boil on his buttocks that made him cry out from the bathroom. I said, “It’s ok now, they were able to drain it.”
Lynne nodded, “Oh, good.”
I added, “He was afraid they’d have to lance it.”
Lynne scrunched up her face, “Ow.”
She said, “We should go home now.”
A caregiver unlocked the door for us. I said, “Oh look, here’s your Mother’s Day card from your boys. Let me read what they wrote.” She stood still. I read one note, “Well, you did well on that one.” She laughed. “Let’s check the next one. Well, you did real well on that one too.” Let’s see how well you did on this one.” She listened with a big smile.
“Well, you did well on that one too. Three out of three.” She laughed.
“How does it feel to be a mother of three boys who love you so much?”
She glowed. “It’s time to go,” she said. We walked back into the dining room and said she wanted to go home. I told a caregiver Lynne wanted to go to her room. She shook her head, “She goes in and comes right back out.”
She walked with me to the elevator. “I love you so much,” she said. We hugged. She grabbed my hand tighter and tighter as she walked away. “Lynne, let go, I have to leave.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She let go and slowly walked toward the dining room.
Like everybody, we have good days and bad days.