Chicken kebabs, smoky bbq potatoes, mangetout and baby corn with spiced butter

First of all, big news from last night: Suki slept on my bed with me! A single bed is really a bit small for a human and a cat, neither the most slender examples of their type, but it was lovely to feel fur against my legs again. (My last cat always slept on my bed, usually as close to me as she could physically get, so I have missed having a furry bed-warmer for the past couple of years.)

Today started out well enough, until mum asked the question I was really hoping she wouldn’t ask: “is anyone coming here today?”

I don’t like lying to her, so I told her that yes, Lady Tuesday would be coming while I went out for a short while. I told her that she has met Lady Tuesday before, that I would only be gone for about half an hour, and that she would be perfectly safe while I was gone.

Mum greeted the news with surprising equanimity, which I suspected meant it hadn’t really sunk in.

20 minutes or so later, it did.

Mum started complaining that her chest hurt, a reliable indication that anxiety is taking over. She interrogated me repeatedly on where I was going, why, and how long I would be gone. Then the guilt tripping kicked in in full force: mum was suddenly in pain “everywhere”, everything was wrong, and she wanted to die.

I have been struggling with the concept of mum being abusive: she has dementia, which brings reduced cognitive awareness, so can she really be said to be guilty of being manipulative and cruel? If she doesn’t understand she’s being abusive, is it abuse?

Today really brought home to me that in some ways it doesn’t really matter whether mum is aware of the impact of what she’s doing. Someone threatening to end their life any time you leave them for half an hour isn’t a sustainable way of life, regardless of the reason.

And so while mum hid in her bedroom, too ‘ill’ to move, I called the Dementia Outreach Team and told them we were at crisis point. They already knew about me, as the Memory Service administrator had forwarded to them my email that was intended for the person currently away on leave. I didn’t know they had done that, but I’m very grateful they did as it meant I didn’t have to explain everything again, just give an update of what has happened today.

We will be getting a visit from a dementia crisis nurse tomorrow. I don’t expect mum to be happy about that, but for once there’s no downside: either mum is up and willing to talk, in which case she can talk about how she feels, or she will refuse to leave her bed, and the nurse will see what’s happening.

Either way, something will change. It’s going to have to, as I can’t carry on like this any longer.

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After all that fuss, the carer who turned up was Lady Friday, who seemed very bemused that I was expecting someone different. Mum refused to get up for her, either, as long as I was in the house, so I went out for a long-delayed trip to the Post Office to do some DVLA¹ paperwork.

I filled in the form – which can’t be done online, despite it being the 21st century – gave it to the person at the counter, and ‘the computer said no’. The DVLA system gave back a receipt advising me to call them. On arriving home I did so, and got an automated message advising they’re too busy to answer the phones, and to try again another time.

Very helpful, not. Kafka has nothing on the DVLA. 🙄

At least mum was out of bed, and feeling well enough that, when I closed my door to make the phone call, she said – with no hint of humour – that I could do so “but not for too long, OK?” Heaven forbid I have more than a couple of minutes of privacy.

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After Lady Friday’s departure, I had about 15 minutes before I had to start cooking dinner. Mum filled it by apologising over and over for how she treated me today. Obviously at some level she knows she’s being unpleasant to me, even if she doesn’t have the cognitive awareness to do anything about it. I don’t know if that makes things better or not.

For dinner I cooked Smoky BBQ Potatoes and Maple BBQ Chicken Kebabs, both from Tesco’s Firepit range. I thought the kebabs were rather lacking in flavour, and they leaked an unappetising milky liquid when cooked. The potatoes were really good, though: not particularly smoky, but slightly spicy, slightly salty, and slightly sweet.

For the second night in a row, mum cleared her plate.

Then we had carrot cake, also from Tesco (of course – I’m going to have to order from somewhere else soon, for content purposes if nothing else). I put the leftovers straight in the fridge, as there are a couple of flies hanging around, and scraped the cream cheese icing off on the shelf above. 🤦‍♂️

Now mum and I both eating mini Twister lollies that I got for myself but mum just found in the freezer and of course instantly wanted one. At least while she’s eating she’s not complaining or being manipulative. Small mercies. 🤷‍♂️

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1. The Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency, the UK government agency that deals with all things car-related. ↩︎