April18
I haven’t done much photography lately, as most of my spare time has been dedicated to a mixture of supporting my dad through his state of dementia, a little bit of school, a new job, and healing from a long term relationship separation.
My Saturdays now consist of grocery shopping and then cooking 7+ days worth of dinners for my father, as he doesn’t remember to eat unless the meals are staring at him in the fridge or the freezer. He’s also not eating balanced meals anymore, with the exception of extreme amounts of fruits, and a milk+natural sweetner+protein powder+instant congee concoction every morning. Also included in my Saturdays is the continued efforts to clean and tidy up his apartment, and finding all pertinent paper works, as he has managed to disorganize and mix up the last 3 – 7 years worth of once organized files and binders of statements. It seems that he’s likely had dementia as early as 3 years ago, but has been hiding it well, since he’s always been a bit of an eccentric.
Since he’s developed dementia, more and more he is reverting back to childhood peferences, of food, memories and habits. He’s been refusing some foods he has always loved in the past, such as spaghetti bolognese and stirfries or Chinese buns even. Yesterday was the first day I did meals on this scale, and it seemed paid off. First I had to distract him with DVD of Chinese TV series, so he wouldn’t notice that I brought groceries and was cooking for him; he denies he needs help you see. Then I could cook in peace.
After I stocked his fridge with the meals, he went to get his afternoon fill of fruits, I saw him open the fridge and stare in for a few seconds, closed it, took a step away, then come back and ask me what dishes were in there. He asked for beef, and I said there is braised beef on rice, so he picked it out himself and then warmed up the food in the microwave and had himself a satisfying meal in front of the TV. At least I can now be assured he will eat for the week. Phew.
This time period has been hard to accept and adjust to, mostly on my part since he doesn’t recognize his mental decline. Discussions are done to determine when he will likely need to go into a nursing home, and what I’ll need to do with his finances and such. I was so not ready for this so soon in life, for my father and myself. It was also interesting to find out how his family chose to deal with it, mostly all alarmists that can complain and bring attention, but don’t get involved in a real way. People sometimes disappoint me, esp. if they are family. Oh well. C’est la vie I suppose.
