Categories: In Print / Features
Dementia Diary – Chapter 56
The Conversation
Who could possibly believe the conversations that transpire with a person who has memory loss? Pretend that you are invisible in the room! Him: I need coffee. Me: Here is your coffee. Him: It is too hot. Put in an ice cube. Me: (plopping in the cube) Here is the coffee with the ice cube. Him: The coffee is too cold. Why do you give me cold coffee? Me: You asked for the ice cube. Him: I can’t drink cold coffee. Me: Sorry about that. Him: I want more coffee! Me: The coffee is finished. Him: Why? Me: Because it was made earlier today and we used it all. Him: I want more. Me: You have had enough coffee. It is not good for your ulcer. Him: I don’t have an ulcer. She: Yes, you do. Too much coffee irritates it. Him: What do you care? You don’t care! (A few minutes later…. It begins again:) Him: I need my B-12! Me: You have B-12 on Thursday and Sunday. It is written on your check list. Him: You did not put it in my ear! Me: B-12 is taken under the tongue. Him: Why are ear drops going under my tongue? Me: No, B-12 is not for the ears. HIM: Why are you lying to me? Me: I never lie to you. (confession: that is not exactly true…but never about his medications…) Him: Did you give me my ear drops? Me: Not today. You have them on Sunday. Today is Friday. Him: You never gave them to me on Sunday. Me: Yes, I did. Him: You are lying to me! Me: (feeling a small discomfort in my chest… left side, could it be heart?) Let’s put your check-list away now. (Hubby’s clipboard with his “schedule” is his most treasured possession. It is intended to create order and a sense of calm for a befuddled mind. Him looks at it every few minutes throughout the day.) Him: No. How will I know if you are doing everything right without it? Me: (Thinking to myself:) You’ve got to be kidding! Substitute Caregiver (C.G.): Let’s play a game. Me: He likes “Word builder” in the newspaper. C.G.: Let’s do the crossword puzzle. Me: No, that is too hard for him. Do the “Word builder” please. (C.G. Gives Hubby a piece of paper and pencil to write down the words.) Me: No, you write down the words as he finds them. Him: I found a five-letter word: “W I L E S.” Me: (speaking to C.G.): Please write down the word. (C.G proceeded to write the word as if it is Chinese, from the top of the page to the bottom.) Me: (Thinking I am going quite mad) Why are you writing the word vertically? C.G.: No answer. Him: I can only find one five-letter word. Me: Try some three letter words. Him: I am not interested in those. I have one! …. W I L E S. C.G: We have that one already. Him: I cannot find any more five-letter words. Me: Try some smaller ones too. Him: Staring at the letters… (No response. He will not consider my suggestion. Is it "will not," or is it "cannot?") (Please read the DD chapter "Can't vs Won't"). Me: (He has always liked this game. The challenge of the five-letter word was always his favorite. Now he reverts back to his previous inclination, and refuses to look for smaller ones. This game is clearly not working anymore.) Him: (for the fifth time) - Do you have “W I L E S”? C.G.: Yes, I have written it… look here on the paper. C.G.: (Now looking at her phone, hoping to escape. She has thrown in the “proverbial towel.” She has the patience of a grasshopper.) When I shared this experience with others in my support group, their responses gave me pause: “At least your husband speaks.” “I wish my husband could still talk to me…” I cannot imagine a Hubby who does not emote every thought that enters his mind. I understand now… that the deafening silence is a greater enemy than the verbosity. I count my small blessings.
