Tag: FAMILY

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Nineteen – It’s Only Going To Get Worse

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

I’m sorry for the rather depressing title of this post but there is no point pretending life is all sunshine and rainbows when it really isn’t. I went to my parents’ house on Sunday and noticed that the wastepaper basket in their bathroom was overflowing with, what looked like clean cotton wool balls, hundreds of them. There were unopened bags of cotton wool balls on every surface, maybe twenty of them. I had arrived at 11am and Dad told me that Mum was getting dressed. I vacuumed everywhere and put some washing on the line, there is always washing. Aftern an hour had passed I went upstairs to check on Mum. She was in the bathroom dabbing her face with two cotton wool balls which she dropped into the wastepaper basket. Then she took out two more balls and dabbed at the same place on her face. I didn’t want to startle her but I couldn’t make her hear me. I watched her doing this about five times then I felt guilty for spying on her so I tapped her on the shoulder. As usual, she seemed irritated by my visit and immediately asked me if I was going home. I tried to gently coax her downstairs but she shrugged me off and kept dabbing at her face with more and more cotton wool. Dad came upstairs and led her away to eat breakfast even though it was now lunchtime.

Today I picked up some medication for them. When I pulled up on their driveway I noticed a woman watching me. She came over and said, and I quote, “I knew your mum from church. I have been meaning to pop in and say hello for years but I’m always too busy I’m afraid” I have written before about how the vicar has never once bothered to call in on my parents despite Mum being a regular churchgoer before dementia and here we have another useless churchy person. Sorry, no offence meant but honestly, how was I meant to respond? I mumbled “have a good Christmas” and knocked on Mum and Dad’s door. Mum looked unbelievably frail, as usual dressed in clothes more suitable for August than December. She won’t wear a thick cardigan or jumper so the heating has to be on full blast all day.

My oven is broken and it is unlikely that it will be replaced in time for Christmas now, it is an unusual size and British Gas are going to source one for me. I am already dreading cooking Christmas lunch at my parents’ house with Mum telling me to go home every two minutes and demanding to know what I am doing. Even though I am fifty six years old, being shouted at by my mother still upsets me, I can’t explain it. Mum has shrunk to a tiny figure but she can be very intimidating and will stare angrily at me without blinking or looking away. I have actually lost sleep over it which is ridiculous. It will be eleven years on Boxing Day since I first noticed Mum asking the same question over and over again. I am feeling pretty trepidatious about what is around the corner. How much worse can things get?

Thank you for reading

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Eighteen – Hospitals and Home Visits

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

It’s been some months since I wrote a Demetria Diaries posts, we are still muddling along. My dad has employed a carer from an agency to come in twice a week for my mum. Unfortunately Mum won’t really allow her to do much but Hannah, as the lady is called, does wash her legs and sometimes Mums hair.

Things have deteriorated considerably in the past couple of months. Dad had a corneal graft some years ago and his yearly check up at Kings Hospital in London was approaching. We arranged hospital transport and agreed that, as happens every year, I would sit with Mum while he went to the appointment. When I arrived at my parents house my Dad looked so ill and frail that I couldn’t let him go into London without me so my lovely daughter literally ran round to their house to stay with Mum while I went in the ambulance. Dad has had some stomach trouble lately but a CT scan and blood tests haven’t found a cause for this. The clinicians decided Dad is too frail for a colonoscopy. On this particular day he looked pale and exhausted.

Kings is a huge hospital to navigate and we were kept waiting for hours. The eye clinic receptionist seemed annoyed that we were keeping the return hospital transport waiting and kept asking irritably when we would be finished – as though we had any control over the situation. You would think that the reception staff would take one look at Dad and wonder if it was really reasonable to keep an elderly patient, who had travelled a long way, waiting for hours after their appointment time. I could see Dad was becoming quite anxious about not being able to get home so I was pleased I had gone along with him. I told him we could pay for a taxi if need be. Eventually the consultant saw Dad, said all was well with his eyes and we made our way to the hospital transport hub. We were told nothing was available as it was so now after 6pm but that they would organise a taxi, at no cost to us. While we were waiting a couple from our village came over to say hello, what a coincidence. I didn’t know them but they recognised Dad and asked how he and Mum are getting on. I was hoping they would offer us a lift home but they, like me, didn’t fancy driving in London and had taken the train. Dad was too tired to walk to the station and take a long train journey, it is SO many stops. Eventually our transport, a shiny black Jaguar SUV, arrived and after a slow drive through City traffic we got home. My daughter said my mum had been a bit of a handful but she managed admirably.

Since then Mum has spent most days asleep in her armchair waking only to eat and, if she gets there in time, use the loo. She is always cold, the central heating is permanently on and she is wrapped in a fleece blanket. Mum does not welcome visitors and continually tells anyone other than Dad to go home.

My parents’ lovely next door neighbour died in his care home after a bout of pneumonia, he was ninety four and had advanced Alzheimer’s disease. Dad was very upset by this, Mum oblivious. This mild mannered, gentle man had to go into care after becoming aggressive towards his wife, what a cruel ending for him.

Mum has a nasty eye infection at the moment complete with an enormous stye. Her third infection is as many months, the GP has visited her at home a few times now. She continually says she wants to see her father who died in 1974. She is unsure of who I am. The speed of her decline is accelerating. Despite this, she gets up every day and gets dressed in smart trousers and her usual little T shirt and cotton cardigan. I have seen first hand the enormous physical and mental effort that this takes but my parents are not the sort of people who have ever sat around in their night clothes They just get on with things without complaining. They eat breakfast at a table my dad has laid with a cloth, table mats and cups and saucers. Dad says he sometimes feels he is running a hotel for one. I really admire them both. I think my Mum is still with us because of the devotion and care my Dad has showed her.

Thank you for reading

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

Things That Get On My Nerves – Possibly One in a Series !!😠

On By samanthaIn FAMILYLeave a comment

Maybe it is just me but, as I have got older I feel I am becoming a little less easy-going. This week a lot of people and situations have got on my nerves so I shall have a vent here.

Firstly, I sold two items on my local Facebook Marketplace page. A huge soft toy and a new Pandora Charm. Within minutes of my listings being approved I received messages from two women saying they’d like the items. I arranged times with them to collect and waited in. And waited, and waited and waited. Neither of them turned up or replied to my messages. This has happened to me so many times. Why waste other people time like this? Don’t they feel in the least bit guilty? A couple of years ago I was giving away a hamster cage and the same woman didn’t turn up three times. My husband was cross with me for letting her mess me around and still have the item. Another time I was giving away an enormous framed picture. After saying she’d like it a woman said she couldn’t collect and could I drop it off? Like an idiot I set off in search of her house, which literally didn’t exist. She told me she lived at number 110 but there was no such number in the street. I pulled over from outside 109, messaged her and she replied with ten laughing emojis , she had given me the wrong street name. Hilarious! So then she told me it was a block of flats on a corner, which corner was a mystery, there were two corners and two blocks of flats. Exasperated, I parked and asked her to walk to my car. She told me she couldn’t as she had two sleeping children (I later discovered after snooping on her profile they were about fifteen years old) so I lugged this heavy picture to her flat. She opened the door in her pyjamas, it was four o’clock in the afternoon. What a mug I am. I got home and blocked her .

Today I took a pile of freshly washed and ironed clothes to a charity shop on my local high street. I have a rule that, if I am going into town I whizz around my house having a quick declutter before leaving home. I got to the counter and the man behind the till was reading a magazine. I asked where to leave my donation and he just said “nope”. He didn’t even glance up. I asked what he meant and he grunted “we’re full”. Charming. Fortunately the next shop was grateful for my freshly laundered items.

Then there’s the person who, in an almost empty car park, parked so close to me that I had to scramble over the passenger seat to get into my vehicle, what’s that about? Walking along our street my daughter stepped into the road to make room for an elderly woman to pass. Instead of thanking her the elderly woman gave my daughter a filthy look. Years ago my oldest son would accompany me to drop my daughter off at nursery and every morning he would open a door for the same woman and her pushchair. She never once smiled at him or said thank you. After this happened a dozen times I told him to let her struggle with the door herself. Maybe not the best example but she deserved it.

All these little annoyances add up don’t they? I need to remember that using Facebook Marketplace is never a good idea and that some people have no manners. Deep breaths!

Thank you for reading

Samantha

Cover photo by Nik on Unsplash

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Seventeen, The Care Agency

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

Dad and I looked at the list of care agencies given to us by the visitor from Social Services. Most of them were located more than fifteen miles away. There is a local agency but I did not want to use them because I have seen one of their carers in the local park screaming abuse at somebody. Dad rang Age UK and they recommended some other agencies and we booked an initial meeting with one of these.

Two women arrived from the agency, one manager and a young woman who seemed to be learning the ropes. They arrived at 12pm and Mum would always be up by then but, on this particular day she had gone back to bed after breakfast saying that she felt unwell. Never in my life before have I known Mum to be in bed at midday. Anyway the older manager was very much into cross selling her company’s services. I explained that Dad is not going to pay almost forty pounds an hour for cleaning and she was visibly disappointed. I explained that we were considering booking a couple of initial sessions where the carer would come in and bathe Mum and wash her hair. The manager started pushing for every day. I was glad I had attended because I can see how elderly people can be pressured into agreeing to more of the care agency’s time than they can really afford.

I explained that Mum would usually be up at this time but she was feeling unwell. The manager asked to see her and, again I reiterated that Mum was asleep. “Just let me see her” she said. I took the manager and her colleague upstairs and into Mum and Dad’s bedroom. Mum was lying on her back, fast asleep looking white as a sheet The manager called Mum’s name in a booming voice, scaring her. Mum became very distressed. If I was woken by two strangers in my bedroom I would be terrified, anyone would. I went over and reassured Mum who was overjoyed to see me for once. Then the manager said it is neglectful to leave Mum in bed all day. For the third time I explained that Mum is NEVER in bed all day , I began to feel really annoyed and judged. The manager then said that their carer would wash Mum but wouldn’t be prepared to manoeuvre her into the bath. I said would write to the contact at Social Service and see if we could have a bath chair. This was supposed to have been supplied before. Everything is such hard work.

Despite my misgivings, Dad seemed keen on booking them in so we arranged for two visits the following week. The manager said she had a particularly kind, patient carer in mind. I was working on the day she visited but rang Dad once I had finished, he sound exhausted and exasperated, predictably Mum had refused to be washed. The carer made Mum a cup of tea and left, Dad said she seemed very nice and patient. Later that evening Dad rang me and said mum was crying. I popped round and Mum said her back hurt, I gave her some pain killers and tried to straighten up the cushions on her chair but she wouldn’t let me. She told me to go home and leave her alone. Dad asked me to help with a problem on his computer, we were out of the room five minutes and Mum must have shouted out, demanding dinner, at least fifteen times.

I woke at 4am this morning worrying. Mum is clearly not cleaning herself and she will not allow anyone else to help. What on Earth are we going to do? She could have a bottom covered in sores but we wouldn’t know. What if we need to call an ambulance or doctor out, they will think we have not been looking after her. The same carer is coming again in a couple of days and we will try again but I am not optimistic. I think we are going to have to consider a care home if this refusal continues.

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Sixteen Care Assessment

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

Since my last Dementia Diaries post in March things have worsened considerably. My aunt had her 90th birthday party in a village hall some twenty miles away, and for the first time, I realised that Mum was too far into her Alzheimers to attend. My parents have never driven and my husband and I always take them along to any family occasion, they have never once been left out of anything. It was my aunt who suggested that it wouldn’t be a good idea to bring mum “she’ll want to go home as soon as you arrive” she said. That was very true but it was also the fact of Mum’s urinary incontinence. If the M25 is at a standstill we would be in the car for an hour both ways and the village hall toilets wouldn’t be a vey private place for dealing with any accidents. My aunt had a wonderful time, she was chatting to her one hundred and eighty guests and got up to dance. Mum, on the other hand, can barely get out of her armchair. It really does seem like a lottery as to what sort of old age, if any, you get to experience. My parents have really lived a very healthy life but, for Mum, it doesn’t seem to have paid off. I suppose living to eighty nine is a privilege in itself.

Mum has started to become more and more resentful of my visits and her constantly telling me to “go home” has now changed into “bugger off”, something she would never have said pre-Alzheimers. Dad and I have been trying to persuade her to let me help her bath or shower but she refuses. The last time we gingerly raised the topic it resulted in an hour of nonsensical arguing and Mum pretending to cry. It is as if we are somehow abusing her rather than trying to help. It makes me feel terrible to see her so confused and distressed. Dad can’t help her, if Mum slips she will take him down with her, they are both now so frail. Dad wants to arrange for their mobile hairdresser to visit along with the podiatrist and I said we can’t expect these people to tend to Mum when she is not clean. We are both worried about her developing sores or an infection. It is so difficult because what do you do when someone point blank refuses to bath or shower?

I filled in a request for a Care Assessment on the Kent Council website and it took about six weeks for the visit to happen. A lady called Sarah arrived at my parents house. It wasn’t quite what I had expected. Dad and I explained the issues, although it is very obvious from the moment you walk in the front door. Sarah said that my parents are not entitled to any free care (my dad does now receive enhanced attendance allowance which a local charity helped him apply for) but that the council can recommend some care agencies. Sarah and I went upstairs and she said that some of the carers will do cleaning as well, she commented on the strong smell of urine in the bedroom. Dad opens the windows and Mum closes them. I vacuum my parents house, clean the kitchen floor and put the laundry mountain away twice every week but I hadn’t cleaned their bathroom as I haven’t been allowed. To be honest I was a little embarrassed when I saw how grubby it was. Two days later I was back over there with a bottle of Cif and some bleach. Asking the carer to clean seems quite an expensive way of doing things as the carers charge about £15 more per hour than a regular cleaner. Also, Dad has turned into a bit of a hoarder and I am not sure how much cleaning someone could actually do around the boxes of stuff everywhere.

Throughout the entire conversation Mum kept calling out “what’s happening?” and “what are you talking about?” so we kept explaining to make sure she felt we were speaking to her rather than about her. Sarah asked Mum if she would consent to someone helping her shower and Mum said yes. This is because she had no idea what Sarah was saying. Sarah then said that it would all be alright as Mum has agreed. In reality I know that, when the carer arrives, mum will go into full refusal mode. Mum then started telling Sarah to “bugger off” and “sod off”. Sarah just laughed, she is obviously used to this sort of behaviour. Before leaving Sarah gave us a directory of carers but many of them are out of our area. We have booked a visit in tomorrow simply to discuss Mum’s needs. Dad got the name of the care agency from Age Concern.

When I was upstairs with Sarah she said “your mum is at the end now”. I must have looked quite shocked at her bluntness because she then said “of her Alzheimers”. The clarification, didn’t really make any difference, it all amounts to the same thing. Poor mum, such an energetic, capable and kind person reduced to this. You would not wish Alzheimers disease on your worst enemy.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

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The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Fifteen No Progress

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

It is March and Mum’s cognitive health has deteriorated noticeably since Christmas. Dad has lost a lot of weight and is limping, he has always had problematic feet, probably because he wore ill-fitting shoes as a child. The podiatrist comes and visits him at home, it is an expensive service, almost one hundred pounds a time. The NHS do not appear to offer home visits for podiatry. Dad doesn’t have any time to himself at all. I keep offering to come and sit with Mum so that he can perhaps go to an art class or simply walk up to the village and have a quiet coffee but he won’t go anywhere without Mum. He still buys her flowers every single week.

Apart from a hospital appointment which I took them to, I don’t think my parents have left the house in three months. Mum was always someone who had to be out doing something every day. Now she just sits in her arm chair calling Dad’s name if he is out of her sight for more than a few seconds. Apparently it is common for dementia sufferers to experience anxiety if their main carer is out of sight. The washing machine is permanently on, Mum now generates more washing than my family of five. She isn’t bathing or washing her hair and it is obvious that she needs assistance with her personal hygiene. I ask on our local Facebook group for recommendations of carers and a couple of people privately message me, one someone who was another mother at my son’s school. She tells me she can hardly believe Mum’s dementia situation is dragging on so long. Her own father died of Alzheimer’s disease some years ago and he had a wonderful carer, she shares the details. I tell Dad I think it is time we insist on having a carer visit at least a couple of times a week. I can see he is reluctant. I reassure him that I have a name of a woman who comes highly recommended. Dad decides to ignore this and simply does a Google search and books a visit from a company I have never heard of. Dad says they must be alright, they have a website! I am slightly irritated by this.

My husband tells me that Tower Hamlets Council coordinate all his mother’s care and that he doesn’t understand why I am not going down that route. They have providers they use and they invoice my mother-in-law monthly. He said that, once my parents are on Social Services radar, they will be obligated to help and that he has been stunned by the amount of assistance and attention that his own mother receives. I decide to apply for a care assessment to see what the council say about providing or arranging some care for my parents. Dad and I fill in the form online and wait to hear. We cancel the visit from the mystery care company.

The assessment is supposedly arranged for 11am on a Monday morning. I feel it is crucial that I attend and book the time off work. Whoever is supposed to be coming doesn’t turn up. It would be most unlike Dad to make a mistake about an appointment but I am not convinced that whoever he was expecting was actually coming about the assessment. After being on hold for half an hour, Dad gets through to the correct department and they tell him that there is nothing in their diary and we won’t be hearing anything about the assessment for some weeks. The person we speaks to thinks it may have been one of the charities that the council liaises with that were due to visit but they aren’t sure. Dad only has the first name of the expected visitor and no direct contact details for them but he is certain they are from one of the council older-people departments. While all of this is going on Mum is becoming more and more agitated. She suddenly blurts out “I don’t want to go into an old people’s home”. I am stunned. Dad and I have never discussed this, even privately but Mum has probably heard the phrase “Social Services” and, even in her confused state, realised that something is afoot. We had explained to her earlier about the purpose of the visit and, as was to be expected, she had denied the need for any help. Dad and I try to reassure Mum that was aren’t making arrangements to put her in a care home but she tells me she doesn’t care about me and that she wants me to go home. I have to get back to work anyway so leave feeling sad, guilty and annoyed at a wasted morning.

So, we are no further on. My husband says that his mum’s health has improved no end since she has had her carers. They come in four times a day, every day. Meanwhile, Dad and I struggle on with no help which is just how my parents seem to want things.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Fourteen Things Seem Hopeless

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

It’s a beautiful sunny Sunday in early March and I really should be in the garden doing some tidying up but my morning visit to my parents has drained me of energy . Mum is becoming more and more obstinate, she says no to anything that could help her. She does not have the capacity to reason anymore so there is no discussion, it’s her way or the highway. If Dad or I try to insist then there will be a tantrum. Even at eighty-nine, Mum can be quite intimidating. It has got to the point where I walk up their garden path with a sense of trepidation and anxiety.

This morning it was apparent that Mum was in desperate need of a hairwash. I always do it over the kitchen sink, it takes ten minutes, if that. Mum’s forehead, and behind her ears are covered in orange, waxy scales. Mum says no way is she having her hair washed and that I should mind my own business and go home. Dad tries to reason with her but she refuses to move out of the chair. Eventually I manage to persuade her over to the sink and very gently clean her scalp and face but afterwards she sits pretending to cry which makes me feel terrible. She pretends to cry on every visit now, it’s an unwelcome new development. She tells my lovely dad is is a horrible husband and that I should go home and not come back. In my last Dementia Diaries post I was optimistic about Dad accepting some professional help but here we are, still muddling along by ourselves. I have filled out a Social Services form online requesting an assessment but have heard nothing back.

The Occupational Therapist has delivered a shiny new walking frame to my parents’ house. It must have cost hundreds of pounds. It has brakes and a little shopping basket attached. It can also be used as a seat. Mum just spends her days sitting in the armchair now but, in the past, has always enjoyed getting out. She should be able to manage a very short walk and it will do her good to get the blood circulating, particularly in her perpetually swollen legs. I suggest that we go out for a little walk around their pretty cul-de-sac. Again I am met with refusal “I am not using that” she says. End of conversation. I try to press the matter but she pretends to go to sleep. I see her peering out of one eye to see if I’m still there, if it weren’t so infuriating it would almost be sit-com worthy. So it will be another day where my Dad won’t see anyone. The walking frame is now in their utility room, tea towels draped over it, what a waste of resources.

This week I was upset to read about the tragic deaths of actor Gene Hackman and his wife, Betsy Arakawa. Betsy, aged sixty five, was carer to Hackman who was ninety five and had advanced Alzheimer’s disease. Betsy had died from an infection associated with rodents and Hackman died of natural causes a week later. As is always the case now, the internet was immediately awash with conspiracy theories about the “mysterious” deaths. There was actually nothing mysterious as all, just desperately sad. It would seem that Hackman possibly did not comprehend that his wife was dead and was alone in their house for a week afterwards until he passed away himself. Even if he had understood he probably did not have the cognitive ability to summon help. I am surprised this scenario doesn’t play out more often, or perhaps it does but we only hear about it when it affects famous people. If my dad died my mum wouldn’t be able to use the phone and she would probably forget what had happened within a couple of minutes. She would not be able to prepare even the simplest meal for herself. I check in with my parents every day and, if they don’t answer the phone, I drive to their house. Fortunately they live very close to me. My dad has an emergency alert pendant, he has had one heart attack. God forbid he has another then I hope he could press the button and get help. My mum certainly couldn’t dial 999 now.

There was a lot of judgement about Gene Hackman and Betsy Arakawa’s deaths. Where were their three adult children, why didn’t they have a housekeeper, caregivers etc. The fact is some people become very reclusive when they grow older and refuse to accept any help from outsiders, even family. They don’t want to admit the full extent of what is going on, they tell themselves they can cope. In the Hackman family’s case, they probably didn’t expect a sixty five year old woman to suddenly pass away. Not every family is close but somebody needs to take responsibility for checking in every day.

So, an unsuccessful and upsetting visit to my parents house. I am hoping that social services will respond to my request for an assessment and that they will insist on someone coming in regularly to wash Mum. Someone who is used to dealing with refusal , tears and tantrums. On my walk home I bump into their lovely, sprightly neighbour whose husband went into a care home with Alzheimer’s a year or so ago. He is very happy there apparently and his ninety year old wife looks so much better for having passed the burden onto the professionals. She told me she wasn’t getting more than three hours sleep a night before and that she had lost two stone which she is now slowly regaining. I hope my dad will consider care for my mum if she gets any worse because we can’t struggle on like this.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

My Daughter’s 21st Birthday – We visit The London Dungeon

On By samanthaIn GOING OUTLeave a comment

My daughter had been debating what to do for her 21st birthday. We had already been to see the Mean Girls Musical a couple of weeks beforehand. She had been planning on going back to university but many of her friends were on work placement or studying for their exams. In the end she decided to stay at home and celebrate with her friends after their exams were finished. She still didn’t seem very enthusiastic about doing anything in particular, we debated going to Madame Tussauds or The Natural History Museum but on the end decided on The London Dungeon. I booked tickets on the day which were £35 each. We had been a couple of times before, about a decade ago so we knew what to expect.

We travelled to Waterloo East and then it is a five minute walk to the dungeon which overlooks the river, you can’t really miss it. The nearest Tube is Waterloo. There weren’t many visitors to The Dungeon at 11am on a Wednesday morning, there seemed to be more staff than guests but we were greeted enthusiastically by staff wearing various medieval costumes, a silent monk was particularly creepy. There are plenty of photo opportunities in the entrance but after that point you have to turn your phone off. The staff do corner you to take some “official” photos, pictures of you in the stocks or about to have your head lopped off with an axe and you can view and purchase these photos before leaving. The Dungeons are manned by actors, all very young, who take visitors on a tour of some of the horrors of London. It had changed somewhat since my last visit and I was disappointed to see the boat ride had been removed, that was my favourite part. A room dedicated to the witch trials had been added and this was probably the most frightening spectacle. I had previously taken my children and some friends for their tenth birthdays but I think the witch performance would be too scary for many ten year olds.

The first character we met was a court jester who dramatically told us a little bit about what to expect and then we were taken into a pitch back lift called The Descent and the tour began. We found ourselves in a courtroom where a batty judge sat in session. One of the other visitors was placed in the dock and some silly charges ready out, it was all very funny. A long list of crimes punishable by death in 1622 was displayed on the wall, pickpocketing and animal theft included. We are then led to a medieval torture chamber, again a guest or two are singled out to participate but it is all very light-hearted.

The actress playing Mrs Lovett in the Sweeney Todd section was absolutely superb and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. She stood behind a counter ladened with dubious looking meat pies. Guests are then escorted into a room full of barbers chairs and asked to sit down. It is enough to make your scalp crawl. There is a strong comedic element to some of the exhibits, particularly the courtroom and the pie shop. Others are strictly horror inducing such as the section on Jack the Ripper and the Witches. Be prepared to find yourself in pitch black rooms at various points during the tour, not knowing who or what is going to appear right in front of you. There are also a lot of strobe lighting effects.

The London Dungeons are genuinley quite educational in places, especially the plague section and guests stop here, sit down and are treated to an autopsy of a plague victim. Prepare to be splattered by the totally incompetent physician!

There is a confusing mirror maze and then the guests find themselves in a Whitechapel set where we meet a lady of the night, terrified that she will be The Ripper’s next victim, we then going into a pub for another genuinely terrifying spectacle. Now I come to think about it, I do remember many squeals in this part when I visited a decade ago with a gaggle of ten year old girls. Maybe not the obvious choice of venue but they did all have a fantastic time.

After making the rounds of all the exhibits the dungeons predictably ends in a small gift shop where you can buy the usual stuff, key rings, pencils and T shirts etc. There is also a bar before the exit where you can rest before heading back out into 2025.

I think The London Dungeon is brilliant fun and a great way to spend a couple of hours in London. It’s probably suitable for most children of twelve and older. The London Eye is right outside and you can buy a multi-ticket including the Dungeon, The London Eye and Madame Tussauds and make a real day of it.

Thank you for reading

Samantha

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Thirteen Finally Accepting Help

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

Mum’s health seems to plateau for six months or so and then, suddenly, something that she has been managing becomes impossible for her. About six months ago she stopped being able to get into the bath. My parents shower is over the bath so that is impossible too. I didn’t know that this was an issue, my dad didn’t volunteer the information but it became very apparent that Mum was not as clean as she should be. A few years ago the Occupational Therapist visited and installed handrails all over the house, including the bathroom but, even so, Mum can’t now climb over the side of the bath. Like many elderly people, she suffers from urinary incontinence and, although the washing machine is always on, Mum herself isn’t washing the parts of her body that really need cleaning. Incontinence pants such as Tena Lady are very expensive, they aren’t available on the NHS but the district nurse did bring some pads round. They are so cheap looking that they don’t even come with an adhesive strip and I don’t think Mum has the dexterity to use them correctly. We ordered some incontinence pants from Amazon but I’m not convinced Mum will use them, in fact I am sure she won’t.

I don’t come from a very open family and definitely would not feel comfortable giving Mum an intimate wash and neither would Dad. I bought some Water Wipes for her to use but the pack remains, unopened, in the bathroom and they wouldn’t be a long term solution anyway. I have been trying to persuade Dad to engage a carer but he just wouldn’t agree. He has a gardener come a few times a year and Mum constantly tells her to go home and she also constantly tells me when I visit “go home, your husband will be wondering where you are”. I know that Dad is worried about her being difficult with having a stranger come into the house and helping her but we are out of options. I tell Dad that if I were in Mum’s position I would want my family to ensure I was kept clean and we are letting her down by not doing so just because we are afraid of a tantrum. Finally he rings Social Services, we had been waiting for a referral from the psychiatrist who diagnosed Alzheimer’s but that never materialised, and they pay my parents a visit.

Annoyingly I couldn’t be there when Social Services arrived because I was working but they assessed my parents needs and put them in touch with Crossroads., a charity that supports unpaid carers. The very next day a woman from Crossroads visited my parents and spoke to them about any benefits they are entitled to such as Carers Allowance and filled out the form for a council tax exemption. Two days after that Dad had to go for an Xray as he hurt his shoulder . I was unable to get time off from work at such short notice. Dad arranged hospital transport and a volunteer from Crossroads offers to sit with Mum. Dad’s appointment was at 3pm but he still hadn’t been seen at 4.45pm and the carer rang him to say she had to leave. Fortunately I had finished work and didn’t have to collect my son as I usually do at that time so I rushed around to their house. Then Dad rang to say that hospital transport had forgotten him! The nurse told him he should have booked a morning appointment if he wanted to use that service. Poor Dad it had all been arranged that morning, the transport coordinator was well aware of his appointment time, not the most confidence inspiring start to accepting other people’s help. In the end he called a taxi. An expensive solution.

When I arrived at my parent’s house Mum told me to leave before I had even taken my coat off. I asked the volunteer how things had gone but she understandably rushed off without saying much. I made Mum a cup of tea and Dad was home about an hour later. So we learned that we have to book a carer/volunteer for much longer than is necessary in the case of hospital appointments and that hospital transport can’t be relied on.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

Christmas Gift Ideas for Family and Friends

On By samanthaIn SHOPPINGLeave a comment

I went to the dentist a couple of weeks ago, it was the 26th October and she asked “are you all ready for Christmas?” Huh? Christmas, we hadn’t even had Halloween. This year has flown by and I suppose I need to get organised. It will only be the five of us and my parents for Christmas lunch but I also have my elderly aunt and my parents over sometime in early December.

So gifts, I want to get on with buying them and wrapping them up as they arrive so I am not wrestling with the Sellotape for hours on end. I would like to say the presents I choose are all sourced from local businesses and, before I went back to work, that would be the case but now I have no time to go to the shops so they are mostly bought online. For my elderly relatives I now stick to Marks and Spencer vouchers and they can spend them on nice food if they wish. Here are my picks for other gifts for 2024:

Girls older teens/early twenties

Earrings, not very expensive because they lose them but no so cheap they will turn their ears green. I have chosen these nine carat gold studs from QVC, I bought them when they were on special offer, they are currently £75 which is a little expensive for a stocking filler. They will look nice with my daughter’s suits when she is on her new work placement.

Travel Jewellery Box from Oliver Bonas, because I always have to buy something when I go in to this shop, they sell so many pretty things. These boxes are reduced at the time of writing. They come in lots of pretty designs and are a useful, inexpensive gift for just about anyone.

Joggers from ASOS My daughter plays a lot of sport and all young people seem to live in joggers. Last year I bought her a fleece lined pair but I don’t think they were a hit. These are a little sleeker. I noticed while shopping for these that most of the styles now have wide legs but they’d trip my daughter up if she were wearing them for lacrosse practice.

Teenage Boys

Cash, that’s what they really appreciate but I will also buy some clothes for my younger son. Again, joggers, boys seem to prefer grey. Wide hems seem to be the trend for boys too but I have stuck to the traditional, cuffed style

Crew neck sweatshirt from Uniqlo. My younger son already has one of these in navy and the quality is great. He doesn’t tend to wear hoodies, he likes something a little smarter.

Suitcase, one of my sons is travelling to Australia next year and will need a new case. I was not terribly impressed with my recent purchase from Samsonite so am thinking of ordering this one by brand Americal Tourister from Amazon, Not a brand I am familiar with but this product has almost 1500 excellent reviews and is reasonably priced at £90.

Anti-theft laptop backpack, my older two children take very inexpensive flights where they cram clothes for a week into a backpack because it costs around £100 for them to upgrade to a small suitcase. I purchased two of these from Amazon in grey and in black, they have proved to be a winner so I will buy another for my younger son. My older son takes his into the office as does my daughter when she is on work placement. She said all the girls use similar, no one uses a traditional handbag for work anymore.

I always seem to be buying water bottles and then the lids get lost and they are useless. I am sure there are ten lids under my son’s bed but I daren’t look for fear of what else is lurking there. I will probably buy one or two of these from Chilly’s

Other sure-fire winners are those nylon, fluffy socks, slipper boots, plaid pyjama bottoms in brushed cotton, lip balm sets, body sprays and some of their favorite sweets.

Friends

I have about half a dozen friends that I buy gifts for, usually spending around £30 on average. Most of us complain about the amount of clutter in our homes and I am keen not to add to anyone’s burden of “stuff”.

For my friend who works from home I am going to buy this burgundy Parker Pen. I think it is a useful and elegant gift.

For my friend who takes her dog on lots of chilly walks I am going to buy her this cosy sweatshirt from Marks and Spencer which she can return if she doesn’t like it.

For my friend with whom I just exchange a tiny little gift, I am going to buy her this cute teddy keyring from Harrods. A very little bit of luxury.

So, an expensive and busy time of year, especially for women in my experience. Start writing your cards now, assuming people are still sending Christmas cards given the recent rise in the cost of stamps. My aunt writes her during August. Last year I sat writing ours for so long that my legs went to sleep and , when I tried to stand up, I fell flat on my face, not the best start to the festive season!

Happy Shopping!

Thank you for reading

Samantha