it’s no wonder that there is so much fear and anxiety around dementia, but as surprising as it might sound, its course with my mother was not entirely dire. she did experience a range of distressing symptoms over a period of six years from her diagnosis, but there were times of joy, surprise, and happiness. i hope for bruce willis and his family that their experience will be like ours in that respect. as agonizing as it was to gradually lose mom to this insidious disease, it was crucial to notice and acknowledge the positives, to live in the moment, enjoy the good times, and to create new memories.
a sense of humour was essential. often, if i did not laugh at a situation, i would have cried instead. for example, one-time i said to her, “mom, you forgot to take the yellow pill,” and point to the medication on the tablecloth. “what is it for?” she asked. “it’s for your memory,” i replied. “i don’t think it’s working,” she said. we both laughed knowing only too well she was correct.
she remained mom: kind, gentle, grateful, and delightful
the doctor referred to my mother’s dementia as atypical frontotemporal. while her faculties gradually declined, she never showed the extreme behaviour and personality changes that the doctor warned me about. yes, there was a period where she had paranoia and delusions, where she imagined there were strangers hiding in her closet or coming and going in her suite. she went through a phase of hiding things, forgetting that she had hidden them and then accusing others of stealing. she also wandered at night, on and off, for several months, momentarily confused and lost, but in hindsight, it never got as bad as i feared. she never became aggressive, angry, unpleasant, or lost her inhibitions. through the many losses, she remained mom: kind, gentle, grateful, and delightful. her brain cells kept on shrinking, but her essence prevailed.
5 minute read
