Confession time. I have dementia from FTD, Frontotemporal Degeneration. What? You already knew that? I sometimes forget about it. Like this morning, early afternoon rather, when I nearly bit the neighbor's head off.
Around 1 pm, when I finally had a chance to go out for our mail and newspaper, a neighbor was doing the same. It is hot here, hotter than usual even for mid-summer. She said obviously I was moving slow today too, that she was not going to do anything but keep cool today. Oh, and they were going out for dinner so she didn't have to heat up her kitchen. It must have been hotter than I realized because I am sure I felt steam coming out of my ears. She was very lucky that my lack of filter was moving slowly in the heat. Or maybe I am the lucky one since I can still live in the neighborhood. She knows my husband and I both struggle with our dementias but didn't even ask how we were doing. That lack of filter that I was fighting sure brought it home that I have FTD.
I couldn't help but think of the "helpful" advisers who tell us to just ask our neighbors for help. Be specific and tell them what you need and they will be happy to help. I will admit, I did live in a neighborhood like that once. We used to have progressive dinners and throw impromptu cookouts in the summer and soup suppers in the winter. We would go to someone's house uninvited because we knew we would be welcomed with a cold drink or cup of coffee. Not so much in this closed-off neighborhood. Make that not at all. We moved here 15 years ago and I still miss that cul-de-sac neighborhood.
As I walked back to the house, I was laughing to myself the whole way. I wondered if maybe I should have asked that when they go out to get some food for dinner, could they pick some up for us. I would have gladly paid for it. In fact, I probably would have paid for theirs as well. I have asked them for much simpler help from time to time and was given one excuse after another. I don't bother any more so no dinner from the neighbors.
When I was back in the house, I received a phone call from the pharmacy. They are starting us on pill packs. Now, instead of filling pill boxes, we will have a package with all our morning and nighttime drugs in a sealed pouch, all on a roll. They are ready to start my husband's this week. They couldn't start when we first signed up because they had to work around our refill schedule.
I was on the phone with this supremely organized pharmacist for nearly an hour. We had to go over every prescription, including dosages and when they are taken. Then we had to do the same for all the over-the-counter meds and vitamins. I was confused half way through the first drug. I kept reminding her that I have dementia and needed her to be patient and to speak slowly and clearly. By time we were done, I realized I was never going to be her favorite customer. Yep, my FTD is surely busy today.
I decided to tackle some paperwork that I had been putting off. I pay most of my bills online, but some I just can't. I had one that I would need to write a check for, so I went downstairs to get the checkbook. When I got down there I remembered I had one of the daily loads of laundry in the washer and detoured to the laundry room to switch it to the dryer. I was proud that I even remembered to put a load of sheets into the washer. As I was going up the stairs I was reminiscing back to when I only needed to do laundry once a week. I guess that was my husband's Alzheimer's hitting me upside the head that time.
Did you catch it? I forgot what I had gone downstairs for, the checkbook. So, I head back down. On the way, I wondered if I had locked the door when I came in from getting the mail and paper. I usually leave it open in the morning for my helper to come in, but she wasn't coming today. I went out and was quite proud of myself for remembering to lock the door. After I got upstairs again, I still didn't have the checkbook. I was done. I wasn't making any more trips down. Who knows what I would have done next. Fortunately, I looked at the form and it turns out I could do the payment directly online. I still hadn't done it but knew I wouldn't have to remember to go down and get the checkbook. When I realized payment wasn't due until September, I put the form back into my desk drawer to pay it later, there was the checkbook. I had forgotten that I keep it in my desk now instead of downstairs in my husband's. I was really happy that no one had witnessed this mess. Classic FTD story for sure.
I wish I could tell you that the day got better. After all, it had started with clipping my husband's gnarly toenails, so it had to go up from there. Didn't it?
Of course not, since the neighbor wasn't about to bring us dinner, I was going to need to cook for us myself. Except, 6:00, our usual dinner time, came around and I realized that what I planned to prepare needed to cook for a whole hour. FTD actually came in handy for this one. I soothed my carb craving and soothed my hunger by eating a cookie. Then I handed one to my husband and told him he needed to eat it because dinner would be late. He didn't care, he would rather have a cookie and didn't have a clue what time it was anyway. This time, it was his dementia that jumped up to remind me it is still there.
No way that any of us with FTD can forget we have it. It is always right there with us to remind us.
No comments:
Post a Comment