He sits there motionless……intrigued by the wall. I greet him with a warm smile, sit down and make myself comfortable. I have always been curious about what goes on inside that jumbled up mind of his. It's cruel isn't it? He was always a passionate man, a man who would never give up. He often overworked himself, untiring to provide for his family. He would take pride in his work and family. Now he's just a frail man who just sit's in his chair and absentmindedly watches life play out before him. No control no power. I feel helpless, there is absolutely nothing that I can do to change him back to the man he once was or to help ease the difficulty those closest to him endure.
He will start conversing with us, but they will be things he will say that I don't understand. He often speaks in his native tongue, it sounds like gibberish to me……I don’t understand him. We all sadden at the fact that this disease can actually be so unsympathetic to people, people that are innocent and underserving.
The bus pulls up, it takes him away. Respite. Relief. For everybody. But only just for the day.....
Time has been reversed – it’s like he is an infant. I feel more responsible and mature than him. I am only 11 and he is 66.
When he goes to this caring facility he isn't treated like an adult - he is treated like the infant he once was. Sadly and unfairly, his brain is 6 years old but he has the body of an elderly man. Does he still feel excitement by colouring in or playing a board game or does he feel foolish playing in this childish world.
I ponder the fact, does he enjoy going there or does he dislike it? Does he even remember it at all? It's almost as if he is a child again, he can't care for himself. He cannot even shower himself.
The problem is, there is not enough awareness going on to tell people about mental illnesses. Maybe even if you detect it early you'll be in with a bit of luck. I wonder if there is any sort of cure or breakthrough, because nothing prepares you for the anguish the loved ones and the patient must go through.
The millions of people that are diagnosed with the illness every year are not aware of how cruel it really is. Without a medical breakthrough for dementia, these people will be helpless and suffer.
I wonder who he is anymore and I fear the day he won't even remember who I am. Sadly this is the story of my grandfather, he is only 66 years old and suffers with dementia. This is what matters to me......
He will start conversing with us, but they will be things he will say that I don't understand. He often speaks in his native tongue, it sounds like gibberish to me……I don’t understand him. We all sadden at the fact that this disease can actually be so unsympathetic to people, people that are innocent and underserving.
The bus pulls up, it takes him away. Respite. Relief. For everybody. But only just for the day.....
Time has been reversed – it’s like he is an infant. I feel more responsible and mature than him. I am only 11 and he is 66.
When he goes to this caring facility he isn't treated like an adult - he is treated like the infant he once was. Sadly and unfairly, his brain is 6 years old but he has the body of an elderly man. Does he still feel excitement by colouring in or playing a board game or does he feel foolish playing in this childish world.
I ponder the fact, does he enjoy going there or does he dislike it? Does he even remember it at all? It's almost as if he is a child again, he can't care for himself. He cannot even shower himself.
The problem is, there is not enough awareness going on to tell people about mental illnesses. Maybe even if you detect it early you'll be in with a bit of luck. I wonder if there is any sort of cure or breakthrough, because nothing prepares you for the anguish the loved ones and the patient must go through.
The millions of people that are diagnosed with the illness every year are not aware of how cruel it really is. Without a medical breakthrough for dementia, these people will be helpless and suffer.
I wonder who he is anymore and I fear the day he won't even remember who I am. Sadly this is the story of my grandfather, he is only 66 years old and suffers with dementia. This is what matters to me......
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