Dementia causes Grandma to believe that someone is coming in to her home on a daily basis and stealing her stuff. She has some wild tales about people in the neighborhood that are far from the truth, but in her mind they are very real.
For instance, when we got home on Thursday, I knew she was extremely tired. She told me about this woman in the neighborhood that came in her home and stole her gold bowl with the pitcher. I asked her how she got it back. She said she went to every house on the street and asked them if they had her stuff. She said they wanted the gold stuff in her house. The lady brought it back one night and then ran out the door. I have read many stories on the Internet of loved ones sharing the same type of story. Paranoia and delusions are pretty common with Dementia patients.
Friday, the day after we got the new teeth, Daddy calls me on the phone laughing as hard as he can. I answer, "You better not be calling me at 7:30 a.m. to tell me that Grandma has lost her teeth." And he laughed harder. So, in my britches (pajamas), I got up and went to help Grandma find her teeth. After we had spent so much money the day before and I had spent so much time to take care of her, I was determined to find those teeth.
She was pretty livid when I arrived at her house. She told me that she couldn't find them anywhere. According to her, the guy that took her first set of teeth returned and tried to take her teeth right out of her mouth. She had to hide them in order to prevent him from getting them. So, I searched and searched everywhere. I looked in every window, drawer, cabinet, and shelf. I laid in her bedroom floor and literally gave up on finding them. I rolled my head around to see under her bed and there they were in a glass hidden behind the leg of the bed. I picked up the mattress to see if the old ones were tucked under the mattress and her glasses that we had been looking for fell out the side.
I took them to her, and then she went into her stories about that man that wants her teeth so badly. I just nodded and asked her if she had eaten yet. She continued with her stories, and I made some eggs and fixed her a coke.
|My Grandma and Grandpa|
Now, I have realized that she has good memories in the morning until she remembers Grandpa. She sometimes knows who I am talking about. She remembers her sisters vividly, but if they were standing in front of her, she would have no idea who they were. On this day, she wanted to see Grandpa's obituary. I got it for her, and then she wanted me to tell her the story of how he died and where she was when all this happened. I usually struggle with this conversation, but I get stronger each time I tell her what happened. It is getting to the point that I just say he died. I realize that eventually he won't even be a memory to her.
|The last picture I took of my Grandpa|