Sometimes you win. It's a good feeling.
When
I left Atria the other day, I stopped by the front desk to make a
reservation for brunch on Mother's Day. For once I was in time to get
a spot and I felt good about that. (The last two holidays I tried to
get a reservation for they were full up and weren't taking any more
reservations.)
Then Sandra, the girl at the desk with whom I
have become friendly, told me that my mother had brought another bag of
clothes that "didn't belong to her" to the front desk a few days before.
Well, of course they belonged to her, so I
spent an hour yesterday going through photos and found the one at the left.
It's her wearing one of the shirts she says don't belong to her (it's from a
Cousins Day in 2011). She had also brought two pairs of pants and I
found a picture of her wearing one of them. I printed both pictures
off.
The last time this happened it resulted in a
very angry argument between us, her insisting she had never seen the clothes
she brought, me telling her that I bought some of them for her, her
insisting she had never worn them. I told her I didn't see what a big
deal it was because even if they weren't hers, all of her clothes
were second hand anyway, purchased at the thrift shop where she worked, so
she is used to wearing second hand clothes. But she was adamant.
She didn't want anybody at Atria seeing her wearing their clothes and
think she had stolen them.
It was classic dementia talking and I got
caught up in it, trying to bring rationalization to it, which was, of
course, impossible. I ended up giving the clothes away, after trying
to sneak them back in a couple of times.
After that I started bringing her laundry
back in a laundry basket, rather than just piling it on the bed for her.
I made a big deal about "here is your laundry and I will pick the basket up
later." Since that time we haven't had any problems.
Until this week.
I figured that the problem was that her last
load of laundry was small and so rather than bring it in a basket (which
makes my back ache when I carry it), I brought it in a bag and maybe that
was what caused the mix up.
Anyway, I was prepared this time. I
took out the sweatshirt and said that she had returned it to the desk, but
really it was her shirt. She spread it out and said "I don't
ever remember wearing this shirt." I whipped out the photo and
showed it to her. She could not deny it. Then I showed her the
photo of the pants. And as she stood there with a blank look on her
face, I suggested that the next time she doesn't recognize her clothes, she
should realize that her mind is playing tricks on her again because nobody
is going to be bringing strange clothes into her house.
I don't know if it worked, but there was no
argument. She took the photos and she kept the clothes, but whether
they will get back out to the front desk or not, I don't know, but I figured
I had handled things much better this time. And from now on I will
never bring her laundry back unless it is in a laundry basket!
I also did some shopping for her at the local
CVS. She needed lipstick and toothpaste, so I bought those and then I
saw some dog beds. We really needed a new one. Sheila has taken
to sleeping in this very tiny dog bed in the family room and I thought one
that was at least a little bigger would be nice for her. All
the dogs have tried it out.
It's still a little small for Sheila, but if
she curls into a ball, she fits.
It caused a great kerfuffle when I first
brought it in, though. Everybody sniffed at it and within seconds,
Sheila and Lizzie were in a bloody battle that I had to break up by dragging
Sheila off of Lizzie. After that, none of them went near the bed, but
eventually Polly got in it and then later Lizzie tried it out and as I write
this, Sheila is sleeping in it. That means there are now three
beds in the family room and, if they want, room for everyone to have a
comfortable bed.
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