The Bologna Blog

Dementia

I have been in the medical profession for quite a while now. That simple phrase grants me a little perspective, I believe. I am reminded often that life is fragile. I try to live my life in a way that reflects that fact, full of love, happiness, and kindness. The one item that I fear the most is being struck with dementia in any form. Que sera, sera whatever will be will be. The future is not ours to see. I have spent an inordinate amount of time praying that if dementia strikes I am allowed to be the cute little old lady that hides her cookies. I hope to be the lady that tells her caregivers that she loves them or the one that plays tricks on the other residents. I refuse to be the cranky old gal who swings at nurses as they walk by or screaming curse words that would make a sailor blush. I worry about being the patient that has to have everything exactly as they want in a precise manner and precise time. I tell myself that if you were a nice person before. maybe just maybe, you will remain that way even if you lost track of time and place. But who knows? It breaks my heart when families forget to visit. Cranky or not, mom is still a mom. She wrapped you in warm blankets and made you hot chocolate on snowy days. Dad is still the man who taught you to drive and watched your plays. They may not remember but we should.