How's your Dad?

“How’s your Dad?” This is the question asked by just about anyone that I run into that knows my Dad or knows the situation.  I hate that question.  What am I supposed to say to that?  My usual response is “He’s fine.  Good days and bad days.”  That’s a freaking lie.  He’s not fine.  Physically, he may be fairly healthy (in spite of his multiple problems).  He has Dementia.

Dementia.  People don’t understand that word, much less the disease.  They are afraid of it, they don’t know how to talk to a person with Dementia.  I have had so many people tell me, “Well, I just don’t know what to say to him.”  Really?  Well, sometimes I don’t either, but I either talk about whatever happens to be on the TV at the time, talk about what the kids are doing or just sit there with him.  This disease is 24/7.  There are no periods of remission.  There are no days when everything is great. 

Change.  Things change with this horrible disease.  Everything changes.  As spoken by a friend, “There is no normal anymore.  Just the ‘new normal’….meaning things change every day, sometimes by the hour and even minute.  You have to adapt.”  Those words are true, those words are sad, those words are my reality, my Dad’s reality.

I do not write this blog to gain sympathy from anyone.  It is an outlet for myself and if anyone chooses to read it, then I need to be allowed to vent without criticism or judgment. 

Caregiving.  This caregiving thing is hard…..the hardest thing that I’ve ever done and I’ve done some hard things in my life.  Unless you have been or are a caregiver - a caregiver for a dementia patient - it is something you will never understand.  Unless you have been where I am, I don’t need your advice.  I need your support.  I need your help.  Sometimes, I just need a break.  A vacation, without worry, would be really nice.

Memory.  That’s an interesting thing.  It’s amazing to me the things my Dad remembers and the things that he doesn’t.  He can whip out a word search puzzle in no time or answer the Wheel of Fortune puzzles faster than anyone……sometimes.  He can talk about some girl he went to high school with, but he can’t remember that he just ate lunch 10 minutes ago.  He knows me…..I am thankful for that.  He knows my kids because he sees them often.  He knows my brother and his family because they call every week.  The other photographs in his room, they are strangers.  That is sad, but that is their loss.  There may come a day when my Dad doesn’t know who I am although he sees me every day.  That will be a hard day, but for now I am thankful.

“How’s your Dad?”  Well, what I really want to say is, “He has Dementia.  He has a terminal, progressing disease for which there is no cure.”   That answer would probably stop the question and probably cause people to avoid me.  I really don’t care because they already avoid my Dad.