Thursday, July 2, 2015
The Dementia Fog
For those who always ask "how does he articulate what he wants to say so well"...
The last two days have been those days we all dread. For whatever reason I haven't been able to focus on anything.
We often refer to days like these as being in a fog of sorts. I never understood that analogy, because I can see fine.
Putting together my thoughts is what the problem is. I had to increase the one medication I take for obvious reasons.
This evening has been better. But there is still this uncertainty about everything. I have to listen to everything that is said, even then I really don't get what is being talked about.
I think for me I am mentally drained at times like this. My brain is saying, "Okay, we've been working on things long enough now, I am going to shut down a day or two and get some rest."
The problem with that, life goes on. While I am on sabbatical of sorts life goes on. Nothing changes because I can't figure out what is going on.
When the phone rings on days like this, it's like a knife going through me. I don't answer it of course. But just the ringing is enough to set me on edge.
I can actually get upset with the noise of the dogs toenails on the hardwood floors. It sounds like someone running their nails down a chalk board.
I take mediation to ease this, then I am so tired I can't stay awake. I have literally slept the last two days away. Most of them anyways. Which is better than being up, awake and not knowing what is going on.
If your loved one seems to be sleeping too much to you, their not. It doesn't hurt a thing to sleep. Chances are they will sleep at night also, but even they don't, they can't fight the feeling of being sleepy.
Least I can't. And the meds I take that is what they are designed to do. It's anxiety medication. Which I take twice a day, everyday, but days like this I have to increase the dose.
I lost two days here. And I can tell I am about to lose three. My hope is it stops at three. I have gone through as high as two weeks like this. Which in itself is draining.
Tomorrow will be better. I know it won't. But it doesn't hurt to say it, perhaps it will. The feeling of fear creeps in. Such a strange thing, being afraid. I used to be fearless. Now, anything and everything for whatever reason feels like a threat to me.
Senseless, but to a patient, it's real. It's real as rain...