Daft little thing, but sometimes the daft little things are heavy.
DM, 90s, frail, early dementia progressing, has had a fright and is spiralling. To keep her steady I am whittering on and on about grandchildren etc. Mostly this is stuff she remembers or can ask about, so she’s stopped spiralling and creating her worries. But, dear God, it’s draining.
For the first time I’m hoping that the dementia makes her forget something: the thing that upset her. But I know my mum. She’s brilliant at remembering the negatives.
oh well. Onwards and upwards (or maybe downwards).