Absolutely berserk
By MP on Thursday 28 September 2006, 21:05 - Journal - Permalink
Six calls in twenty minutes this afternoon alerted me to the fact that mum
and dad were not seeing eye to eye.
The first four calls were from dad, informing me that mum was 'going
absolutely, and I mean absolutely, berserk'. The next call was from Emma, their
neighbour, to say that there was trouble at home. The last call was from Regan,
who had been called by Emma, to say that there was trouble at home...
I kept my cool with dad - he's pretty helpless when mum throws a wobbly. He said: 'Your mum's going bonkers. She keeps saying we're not married, and I don't know, I don't know what to do about it. I'd like you to come over and show her the marriage certificate and really put it into her head...'
I managed not to have to take the call from Emma in person, as I was still on the phone to dad at the time. Her message said: 'Your mum's just come over and she's really giving your dad a hard time. She really needs something to calm her down. I don't know if you want me to call the doctor. I tried to call Greg, but...'
By the time Regan called I was wondering what all this has to do with me. I cannot fix the problem. I don't really need to know about it. Pills - in which Emma seems to have unshakable faith - are not going to help. Dad feels better getting things off his chest, but his relief only lasts for a few minutes. He can't take advice and we've been on this merry-go-round countless times before. I'm just as helpless as he is.
Anyway, I later spoke quite amicably with mum, though she was obviously still very angry with 'him', without being able to articulate why. I know yesterday she took exception to the fact that dad was taking the wheely bins out, and caused such a scene in front of the house that people were crossing the road to avoid her (dad says). What the problem was today, neither mum nor dad could tell me. Perhaps it doesn't need a reason. The literature warns you to expect irrational and unpredictable behaviour - and that's definitely what we've got.
Now that I've finished my draft of the business plan and sent it off to the other interested parties I feel a weight has been lifted and I'm more able to laugh at what happened this afternoon. Unfortunately, I ran out of time to go over there, as I promised, but it seems both mum and dad have forgotten about this. I guess that's the silver lining.
Comments
Even with my mother, whose dementia is definitely of the light and gentle variety, its presence has a silver lining. I shudder, though, Mike, when I think of you trying to get work done in the midst of what you describe, which, I know, happens soooo often for you and your family.
So, so sorry that this is happening for all of you, including your parents.
Mike--I'm dealing with a slightly different family dynamic, but I'm reminded of it when reading your post. Lately my mother has been expressing her desire to "go home." This usually happens in the afternoon, after the homemaker has gone and when my sister is usually around. My sister will invariably call me at work, expecting me to do something to stop it. I've learned that the best way to stop it is not to argue with or try to persuade her--but to change the subject and most often she will forget about wanting to go home. But my sister just won't "get" this--she firmly believes that she can convince my mother that she really is at home, and goes to great argumentative lengths to do this, further agitating her. So I can see that the initial spark is sometimes fanned by someone else's behavior. Now my sister should know better, but your Dad is in a different place. I think it's important to realize how much your own unfinished obligations can aggravate things, too, Mike--I know I'm at that point where there's a serious tension between my mother's needs and my own. Oh, boy--I'm with you in spirit on this one!