Thank you.
As do I, but thank you.
This, I can well imagine.
In any case, some of the replies prompt a further response from me in the form of further advice:
1: Medical Stuff:
While a state funded public health care system is brilliant (and I am a huge fan of the NHS), one of the problems that we found - or, we experienced, - especially in the early days after my mother's diagnosis, was to find out what you were entitled to, and how to apply for it and access it. We were flying blind.
Sometimes, if public finances are somewhat straitened, it can then take a considerable length of time before you will be able to avail of those services.
My recommendation would be to make an appointment with your GP to talk about this; bring a pen and a note book, and write this stuff down. Bring a (trusted) friend, if necessary for support and to prompt you to ask stuff in case you forget.
Ask the GP what services exist - that you are entitled to access - in your local area for people with dementia, which are publicly funded, which are privately funded, and how the GP can support you in obtaining these services.
You won't know what is available until you ask (and then, find out): For us, "plugging ourselves into the system" (and that took a surprising amount of time) presented one of the greatest challenges when and while we were planning for our mother's care.
Supports exist, but you will not be able to access them until you apply (formally) for them, and you will not be able to apply for them, if you don't know about them.
Now, once we managed to obtain access to the system, the actual state supports that were provided were incredible, invaluable, and wonderful.
2: Food, etc:
We had the issue with dehydration, and refusing drinks, as well.
Initially, in the early days, (and this is almost hilarious to read in hindsight), my brothers and I were exchanging healthy organic recipes, trying to come up with meals that were both tasty and healthy.
Now, my mother had always had a very good appetite, and had always liked her food.
Two things changed after her diagnosis:
One, she became far more picky, and choosy and adamant re her food demands, and - like a child - began to refuse to eat her vegetables - instead exhibiting a marked preference for certain, specific foods.
This came about - I suspect - because, secondly, she developed a very sweet tooth, and showed a marked preference for sweet things.
A late development of a sweet tooth is one of the red flags (or diagnostic tools) for dementia: My mother, as it happened, had always throughout her life (and I am the same, now) - and this was also the case for the pair of us even as children - far preferred sour stuff - rhubarb, cooking apples, gooseberries - she adored gooseberries - and so on, to anything sweet; personally, I love lemons, and the entire citrus family.
However, the sudden onset of the sort of palate whereby one wants - for example - ice cream, apple tart, almond croissants, cakes, - (especially in a person who used to disdain that sort of food prior to her diagnosis) - in my mother's case, her sweet tooth kicked in around six months after her diagnosis - along with the sort of stubborn character that a strong willed child may express - means that the diet of the person you are caring for will change radically.
Many people with dementia lose their appetite.
We decided - after a while - that it was stupid (on our part) to fight this battle; stratospheric blood pressure and cardiac problems took second place to caring for someone with dementia.
In other words, (and the GP confirmed this), the key thing was to get her to want to eat, (rather than trying to persuade her to eat a healthy and nourishing diet), and that meant giving her what she wanted to eat.
Thus, her diet comprised cakes, almond croissants, (sometimes, almond and chocolate croissants - all bought in the French bakery), apple tart, rice pudding with tinned fruit, sausages (she loved sausages), chicken wings (she loved chicken wings), chips, (what our Transatlantic Cousins describe French fries), or roasted potatoes (yes, she loved roast potatoes), and so on; we gave her what she wanted to eat, rather than what we thought she should be eating.
Now, that battle - that lesson - took a while to learn (well, we lost that battle), as we simply decided that it was more important that she eat something - anything, as long as she wanted to eat it - rather than insisting that she eat a diet that was healthy. The carer was exceptionally good (and patient - I wasn't that patient) at persuading my mother to eat a few mouthfuls of something a little healthy.
But, that - the healthy stuff - also had to be sweet in taste; thus, carrots and parsnips pureed - with lots of butter, or sweetcorn - worked, whereas healthy greens were disdained and rejected.
3: Liquids:
Dehydration was an issue for us, as well.
My mother, - who had always been exceptionally well hydrated, unlike many of her generation - she was one of the first people I knew who regularly drank plenty of liquids, including water, during the day - developed a dislike of water, as her dementia became more marked, and her sweet tooth became more pronounced - and her tea had to be sweetened in order to persuade her to drink it.
This we addressed by seeking out and sourcing out sweet fruit juices (for example, I managed to find some Italian peach juice, in an excellent Italian deli - standard orange and apple juice were too acidic for her, and she didn't care for them), as well as the sort of tasty "health drinks" (consumed from a small carton, with a straw, or poured into a glass) that you find (these came with a prescription, but ask the GP or the pharmacist for advice) in a pharmacy.
Those health drinks supply some nutritional needs for people who have lost their appetite on account of ill-health, and - if memory serves - they came in chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla flavours.
In any case, I recall that my mother liked only the vanilla, and threw a wobbly whenever it wasn't available, refusing to accept any (lesser) substitutes.
However, we found those health drinks - they came in a collection of cartons, either six pack, or a twelve pack, perhaps a 24 pack - to be excellent; off-hand, unfortunately, I cannot recall the brand name.
4: Do (Play, watch, Listen to) Whatever She Likes:
Harry Potter is an excellent idea.
As
@Apple fanboy has already mentioned, for my mother, it was ABBA; we had their greatest hits playing on a more or less continual loop - she loved it, couldn't hear it often enough (which is why she heard it all day, and, had forgotten that she had just heard it), and would proceed to try to conduct the music, or (when she was more mobile), dance to it, or, have "Mr Monkey" dance to it.
Actually, I must admit that I am profoundly grateful to ABBA, for, simply pressing "play" on the CD player and starting the CD (Dancing Queen was the first track, Waterloo the last) would serve to put her in a good mood, and they gave my mother many happy hours during the time she suffered from the condition of dementia.
Once again, the very best of luck and remember to try to be kind to yourself and forgive yourself when you fall short of the demands and standards you try to hold yourself to.
