The Adventures of Dementia!

Arg. My grandmother is hilarious. You see, I am one for finding humor in every situation. I am also one for laugh instead of cry. Because with all the stuff my family has to deal with everyday, that's the only option. You see, my grandmother is demented. In the legit sense. I do not mean in the "let's get fancy with our misuse of adjectives". She has dementia. Which means she's both great fun and a pain in our ass.

Just like this.

Especially to my wonderfully patient father, who does not see it that way at all. I think it's interesting how dementia works. I mean, my grandmother knows she's lost it. But she does not seem to connect that with her theories about life. I mean, she understands she has this horrible disease that makes her imagine things. But she still goes ahead with whatever she says. It makes for some fun conversations. Some of them are even true. Some of them are not. For example, most recently, she has decided that she has a sugar daddy. She lives in assisted living, and gets her hair done weekly by the person who runs a salon in the Home. Recently, she told my father that a handsome young man came by her room and offered to do something for her. He led her down the hall and had someone do her hair for her, and he paid for it. Every time she sees him in the hall now, she tells him thank you.

I really hope that this is what she thinks he looks like.

Now, if you know someone with dementia, you have to use clues and reality to understand this story, or any story they tell. So with this story, her sugar daddy (or her handsome  young man friend who loves her), is the man who runs the Home (I hate using that word, but I'm not going to tell you were she's staying), and he led her down the hall to her hair appointment. The stylist was paid, but this was money for her expenses, and was not out of the man's personal account. I suppose whatever makes her feel good. This is much better than when she finds scissors and cuts her own hair. Sigh. We have taken something like fifteen pairs of scissors out of her room. I don't know why she has so many. A few times we've missed them, and with tragic results. I'm not sure why she wants to look like a baby bird.

It's just...no.

There are just too many wonderful stories to tell you that I can't just end the Adventures here. There will be more. And a disclaimer: I adore my grandmother, these are my experiences with her. Dementia is an awful disease, it can also be hilarious. But none of this is mean spirited. 

 Diseases: both funny and sad. But not mean spirited!