Day #13 > THURSDAY 5th NOVEMBER
I hear Mum shout out in the night. I listen attentively but after Bob speaks it all goes quiet again. Bad dream? Is the lack of anti-depressants kicking in after two days without them?
All’s ok when I come down – phew, no bruises! – but I cannot find Mum’s neck collar & am forced to ask Bob. He has no idea. He goes to the toilet for 20 mins as his bowels are bad. Five mins after Bob’s out of the lav I eventually find the collar in Mum’s walk-in wardrobe, so I take it to Bob & tell him needs to step up; Mum simply cannot go out without a collar & walk the dog, as she has a history of feeling dizzy & falling & this is what care is really about – plus of course I’m fully aware that he only enforces the collar when Mum visits the doc, which is shockingly deceitful & neglectful.
We verbally spar. He tells me I’m here too & I should know where the collar is. True enough in some respects, but I don’t sleep with her & he is, after all, her primary carer & will be here when I’m gone so he should get into the habit of knowing where it is. He says he shouldn’t. Oh, interesting. I raise it up a notch, & call him out on Mum climbing up on a stool again this morning, & he says he cannot keep check on her all the time. I say that’s not the point, as he should be responsible & aware enough to remove the stool, so the risk of injury is removed. He stares blankly.
I up the anté again & tell him as her husband he is responsible for her as Mum has been diagnosed with dementia & Capgras Delusion, but I will gladly take up the baton if he is incapable, but it won’t go well for him if that happens. I ask Mum is she thinks Bob is caring for her? She says no. I ask her if she thinks he can care for herself? She says no. Bob then questions that & tries to turn it around to him enforcing wearing the collar – ‘No.’ I say, ‘No Bob, entire care – not just what you pick & choose.’ Mum says she doesn’t want a he-said she-said argument & wants to walk Abel. So we do.
Bob is a narcissist. Textbook. Grandiose in the house & Covert when with other people. I know I’ll never get through to him, as he believes he is always right & I am always wrong. Mmm. How do I approach this to ensure that Mum doesn’t get hurt in the process & Bob doesn’t end up buried under a tree in the woods?
I put Mum’s collar on & tell Bob he has every chance to put this right, as my issue isn’t with him personally, but with Mum’s safety. I let him know that we’re all set to go walking & is Mum good to go – has she got everything she needs Bob?
If I try to give him control he may step up . . .
He replies with asking if I have Abel’s lead? Yes I have that in my pocket, but is Mum good-to-go Bob? I open the door & step outside. He says nothing & when Mum puts a foot outside I stop her, look back at Bob & say ‘STICK BOB, STICK?!’ Mum didn’t have her walking stick. Sigh.
I hand Mum her walking stick that she always takes & tell Bob he needs to up his game as he’s not fit to take care of Mum in his current state. He says ‘close the door’ as he turns & walks away . . .
I choose not to put him on his back. Somehow. I’m truly not sure why. It would make life a lot simpler wouldn’t it? Would it? Oh, I’m simply not allowed & ultimately I’d be held guilty of something or other. It’s got to be Mum’s choice if she accepts Bob, not mine. My choice is irrelevant. Unfortunately.
We walk Abel & both chat about Bob. She doesn’t think he’ll change, even if sober. I remind her that I can help & she is not on her own now, as she has the opportunity to live with me in England – which I’d adore – or live with Bob in sheltered accommodation or live on her own – in fact whatever she wants. She thanks me & we discuss Bob’s upbringing, & it turns out he had hard father & also his eldest sister Josie used to shout at him & call him a serpent too, so it’s not new news . . .
We return to the house & I type up today’s news so far, plus firefight work messages. We’re due to go grocery shopping later & Bob & I are both in the den when I notice Mum outside moving garden tables & heading to move a reclining chair next! I’m aware that previously calling him out as failing simply does not register with him, so I try another tack; I say out loud: ‘I have a problem here Bob!’ – I say it very very gently & repeat: ‘I have a problem here Bob, because I can see Mum outside moving tables & will soon be moving a big chair & you haven’t noticed. She has been told to lift nothing heavier than a kettle, but we’re both sitting in the den here & I have noticed but you haven’t. What should we do?’
Does he think Mum should be shifting furniture? He agrees that she shouldn’t, but he ‘can’t watch her all the time’ & what should he do he asks – should he go & tell her to stop or should he move the furniture himself?
That’s quite an admission – in my book that’s an admission of not having a clue of what to do, along with illustrating how little care he actually gives Mum.
I say truthfully that he really should know the answer to that, but ultimately as Mum shouldn’t be lifting things she should be told to stop to protect her from further injury, then think of the logistics of moving the garden furniture afterwards – but as I am here I can do it if he can’t. He says he can. He looks at me. He continues to look at me. Chocolate teapot. I sigh, jump up at Bob’s lack of action & run to the door & tell Mum to ‘STOP!’ I give her the Time Out T-sign & once I reach her I gently remind her about her neck & that she’s on doctor’s orders light duties but it’s only till her neck is healed, then she can do whatever she wants. I say Bob & I have a duty to take care of her & if we see her in danger we’ll tell her so, as we appreciate it’s hard to not do what you’re used to.She agrees, thanks me for caring & we continue to chat whilst I move the furniture into the sun & all is good. She goes off to get a book to read in the sunny fresh garden air. Good call! Bob remains in the den . . .
The rest of the day actually goes quite well! I go out on my own around 2.30pm, to visit shops for some jeans & socks – ooh, livin’ the dream! – & have Dave’s Cave man chat – which runs 3.00-4.20pm – so I’m out quite a while, but all is good when I return. Really nothing of note to report in the evening – apart from Mum thinks we may be moving soon but that is not new & I’m strongly starting to suspect is a result of the anti-depressant (A) twisting her mind.
I sleep well. They keep my occupied these Deweys, but through all the confrontation & issues I truly do see progress with Mum today – & think she could/should be fine, but Bob? Well, that rabbit in headlights is another kettle of fish . . .
