A howling banshee
Screaming in my face at dawn
This day will be long.
Yelling. Shrieking. Door slamming. Hiding. Paranoia. And then sometimes they’re so sweet, you could almost forget. That’s the cruel trick of dementia. Just when you’re lulled into feeling semi-normal, it strikes.
The best part of when my mom gets like this is that she won’t take the pills that make it stop. During the day it’s easy to keep the medication steady, but at night, if you don’t wake up to do an extra dose, this is the morning. It’s enough to make you dread the dawn.
And for a while, I really did. It took several months to find our current medication cocktail. Before that, there were times when the screaming went on for hours. I counted the hours until she fell asleep and dreaded her waking, because I knew it would all start over again.
Thankfully, these days moods are mercurial and pass over us like clouds on a windy day. I’ve also learned how to ride it out and not exacerbate it, even though it’s not exactly pleasant. The wheel keeps turning and I know she’ll get back to herself again. So, now we wait for a window of pleasantness where I can get her to take her “vitamins.”
And people think dementia is just “Oh, grandma, is so sweetly eccentric or forgetful. Isn’t that cute?” If only…
Caregiving is not for the weak and there is no God in the clouds doling it out to only those who can handle it. It is thrust upon you and you learn to do so, because we humans are more resilient and resourceful than even we imagine.