Fibbing

I cannot in certainty blame FTD, but I have become a champion procrastinator. While not a good trait to have, it helps me avoid things that FTD will make extremely difficult. It is my ostrich. If I bury my head in the sand, it won't be there when I pull it out. Ah, if it only was so!

This tendency came into play, big time, this past week. I needed to take down and put away all the Christmas decorations. I would look at them in the morning and think "I should do this today." Then the next morning, "I should do this today." It was easier to ignore them if I just closed my mind to them. Finally, I spent the past two days taking them down and storing them away. 

Storing things away should not be such a difficult chore, except that I always pack things away so that they are ready to be moved... just in case my husband ever agreed. This is about the fifth year I have done that. Some dreams never die and, to me, that is a good thing. I have often said, "Yes, I know I live in a fantasy world. Just leave me be, I am happy there."

If I want to keep the dream alive that he will agree with me and move to be close to our daughter, I will keep on dreaming it.

I am often asked for advice from caregivers about how to tell their loved one difficult things or how to keep them from asking the same things over and over again. My first question is usually, "Do you really have to tell them?" Often times, it helps to think about what will calm them best. Little fibs are often the way to go. Do they need to know that you had to sell their house and they can never move back there? 

My cousin gave me an awesome example of this. They were needing to put my uncle, who had dementia, into a nursing home. He knew they had been talking for months about getting new windows for their house. When it was time to make the move, she told my uncle that they were finally going to do it and because it would take so long, they all needed to stay someplace else for a while. It worked. After explaining the same thing at every visit, he eventually accepted it and by then had become accustomed to living in the nursing home.

We are raised to believe that we should always tell the truth. Of course that is still the ideal, but FTD and other dementias make it difficult for someone to understand the truth. Going into long explanations or trying to convince them of something they don't understand is often not going to work. Telling a little fib to turn it into something they will be comfortable with, to me, seems like the kinder thing to do.

The cousin I mentioned was a well known and successful psychologist. If she recognized that fibbing to her dad was the best option, that validated it to me. The caregiver may still have to answer the same question multiple times, but at least it is a short answer that is believable and brings comfort to them instead of repeatedly upsetting them with the whole truth. 

I am probably stretching things to equate fooling myself to a caregiver fooling someone. I am fully aware of the truth and just pretending. But if sitting on the sofa with a warm cup of coffee and staring out the window, visualizing it as the white sands I remember from New Mexico brings me a half hour of comfort, what harm could there possibly be? If it makes it easier for me to pack away Christmas by thinking I am packing it up in case we move soon, why not? 

Losing my cat was one of the most difficult things that has happened to me since the onset of FTD. I have not discussed this with more than a couple people because I am embarrassed and angry at myself. My cat was the most affectionate pet ever. When I was going through treatment for lymphoma, he never left my side. If I was in the bathroom hugging the toilet, he was right there with me. If I was lying in bed, so was he. It hurts enormously that I caused him to die a few years into my FTD. I did not notice that he was losing weight. I did not notice that he was not eating. I would just throw out the old food and put in new. During a visit, my daughter mentioned that he was so skinny. She has huge cats, so I thought she was simply comparing him to hers and laughed. By time I did realize that something was wrong, it was too late for the vet to help him. My cat saw me through cancer, but FTD made it so that I did not recognize the signs that he had it.

I tell this sad tale to show that it does not hurt anything for my to put a pillow up against my back so that the weight of it makes it feel like he is there sleeping with me? I will never have another pet. I will not take the risk of not being able to care properly for another one. So, if I sleep a little easier with that weight against my back, then that is what I should do.

To the caregivers, please, if a fib will make your loved one more comfortable than the truth will, don't hesitate to do it. It is probably the wisest and kindest thing you can do. Don't let anyone make you feel guilty for not always telling the truth. You are not giving them false hope, you are probably just soothing their soul in the same way my warm cup of coffee and my imagination do for me now.