Not because it's the worst thing in the world or because the person is unsafe or because you fear the person or because you are out of ideas for the cause. (Yes, the person might have a UTI or need oxygen and hospice has been called.) But because you feel sad when a person whose brain used to work well now asks things like, "Should I pull the cord for the staff to get the people on the Food Network out of my TV?"
It is a release that we need.
For myself, during those times of sadness and fear for my brother I was so busy trying to keep things together and trying to function and protect that I literally could not cry AT ALL. In fact it would take something "other" to allow me to cry. A movie. A sick cat. Something like that.
I always think of tears as washing us clean. A release. I always try to tell people here that what they describe as GUILT is truly GRIEF. And it is grief so bad they choose not to face it. They would rather blame the person, the place, the thing, and EVEN THEMSELVES.
This is worth mourning. This is worth crying over. There are times that there is nothing in the world so hopeless and helpless in nature than THIS at the end of a life.
I also did what I called "Therapeutic Screaming" in the car. I am sure there were times the people waiting at the red light next to me wondered
He was such a smart and kind man. He's very handsome, even at 97 people at the NH tell me that. Despite being diagnosed with colon cancer three years ago, his body still refuses to give up. I guess cancer does not progress quickly when you are 97.
The worst part was LO feeling as if they are “ being imprisoned for no reason” . LO believing “ there is nothing wrong with me “ . LO believing that they were placed in a facility so we could take their money and home away from them . It’s torture for them and us.
A few times I resorted to placing some of the many cookie jars that my mother collected in a trash bag and taking the bag out to the garage and smashing it with a baseball bat . Very therapeutic.
These days they actually have “ Smash rooms “, where you can pay to smash things .
Now my sister is acting very much like my mother and believes I was the driving force in my nephew placing her . Sis thinks that I “ hate old people and just want to put all old people away for no reason “. However , Sis still remembers that I placed our mother and my father in law due to dementia . She was the first of my siblings to agree with me that my mother had to be placed . The 3 other siblings thought Mom could still be home alone or felt I should have left my own family and moved in with Mom .
My sister with dementia was the only sister I was having contact with . When she realized she was having dementia symptoms she asked me to support her son in placing her when necessary. But she has now progressed to the point where she thinks there is nothing wrong with her. Like my mother she is very embarassed and says she is “ not demented “. She is no longer herself . I have no sibling relationships left .
It's grief. It feels strange to grieve the loss of someone who is still living. But the person we knew and loved is gone, or is changed to be unrecognizable.
My 64 yr old husband has been home for 10 years with dementia after a massive stroke which caused significant brain damage. The man who was once smart, funny, well-respected, hard working, and thoughtful of others is now like a demanding toddler; I need to feed him, change his diapers, and change the TV channel for him. He can't even use the remote. And he yells out and makes demands using the wrong words for what he wants, leaving us both frustrated.
I miss him so much! My sweet loving husband is gone, and this child-like being is in his place.
My dad had dementia and he was thought of as a highly intelligent man by those around him. Then his brain succumbed to making him say things similar to the quote in your post.
Dementia is to the elderly as a devastating illness with hallucinations and panic and fear and confusion (the list goes on) is to the young.
I wish I had some words of advice to give you--perhaps cry as often and as loud and as hard as you want to--in the car, the shower, into your pillow, where ever you wish, so you can get it out. And then go ahead and cry some more, if that's what you want to do. There is no time limit on grief.
He had Lewy Body, I know about the delusions, the hallucinations, inability to comprehend what I was saying and his frustration, which he took out on me or whoever was there. He was officially "sick" less than 2 years, but in looking back over our life, I realize now that he'd been ill much longer, there were odd things he did or said. Now I realize it was the beginning. I prayed for him to have peace at the end and thanks to his excellent care at the nursing facility and hospice, I feel he was peaceful at the end. To this day though I have a hard time crying, I wish I could. Maybe I'm afraid if I started, I'd not be able to stop. Love them no matter what, they are not in control. It frightens me to think of my husband's confusion and fear, I wish I could have helped him in some way. I was there with him every day and I hope he knew that I cared.