The dementia snowballs its way down the mountainside of the sufferer's life. That's progression.
What have we been dealing with? Mild dementia, progressing at a very slow rate. Multiplied by the passage of time.
Even with that slow rate burning away, there comes a time when caring becomes more difficult.
We've reached that point, and I've been jumping ahead of that point for so long. Things have pretty much balanced out...
But talking about it here in this blog hasn't been an option. I sit and think that I don't do anything. Then I think back over all the things I did during the day and into the night, and I realise I was running around like a clockwork toy about to explode.
To sit and type up everything that happened...that is happening...well...
Typing all the daily changes isn't a priority.
But I must write about something. I have a lot of help from many different sources. Still, problems arise. And I am in the middle of a problem right now that adds to the woes.
It's unresolved. I'm waiting on people getting back to me. And I guess that's the theme here. I have so many things lined up in the system, waiting for this, for that, for Godot.
Today, one way or the other, I solve that problem. It means receiving an e-mail and taking prompt action. Or perhaps I'll take a telephone call. If these options don't pan out, I'm off to an office to toe the door open and find out what happens next.
There's no point going into detail. My point here is...this is what I deal with all the time. I request help. The request crawls through the system. I receive the help just as it is needed.
Keep plans flexible. Flex ahead of time. Battle progression with progress in other areas.
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