Until recently, the incidents had a humourous twist to them. We knew that they were an indicator of her dementia, and we knew that, for her, they weren't at all humourous. Like the time she phoned because the lights in her home (her home home, not the Home in which she lives now) weren't working - and it turned out she was wearing sunglasses.
About a month ago, she really brightened up. She phones most days, and DH and she (or she and I) have the same conversation. She says how well she is feeling, never felt better, has been eating properly and feels fitter than she has done in years. We talk about the weather, about SIL visits, about DH and when he will next be able to visit, and so on. She asks for puzzle books, for pencils, all of which I send (and she tells me that DH has sent them to her, but that's OK). We talk about whether she's been out for a walk, what she's had to eat, that sort of stuff. I;m happy with the repetition, it makes the conversation easy.
And then, suddenly, a significant shift. This week, she's been unable to find something, and has been very distressed about it. She is adamant that she put the item on the shelf, like she always has done, but its gone, it must have been stolen. DH has spent hours on the phone with her, trying to help. He asked her to check her bathroom, she was adamant she doesn't have a bathroom (she does, its an ensuite in her room at the Home). She cried, upset that he didn't believe her. DH is brilliant. He patiently explained that he does believe her, but to look anyway. He tried to establish whether she'd told one of the carers that she'd lost it, but couldn't get her to say the same thing twice.
On a different day she said that she had put it on the shelf, but in the night a big machine came and cleared away the whole of that shelf an the whole of the wall, it wasn't there any more. We know that this is the Dementia causing it, and we know that she genuinely believes that what she says is true.
Of course, she's remembering a different room, a different place, possibly from 50 years ago, and the frazzled synapses are making her believer the only possible explanation is that the whole wall had been taken away. And the only way that could happen, was by a big machine. And because she hadn't seen it, it must have happened at night.
The saga continued for several days, with more tears of genuine distress. My MIL would be mortified if she was aware of what was happening to her, she would never cry in front of her son.
My SIL goes to see her at least once a week, sometimes twice. When I ask MIL about SIL visits, she sometimes says she's seen her, but often says she hasn't seen her for ages.
The list of confusions is now quite long. The home is a Mathodist run one, and they have services on a Sunday. Each Monday she phones to say that "once a year the whole place comes to a halt while they have some religious ceremony". Of course, the "once a year" is "once a week", and every week she phones to tell us about the once a year happening.
I'm so sad that we are losing the person she was. More than that, I'm so very sorry for the person currently inhabiting her space. I suspect she's finding the orkd very confusing, and a little frightening, and I think that she knows things aren't right with her.
I wish I could reassure her.
