Vascular dementia?

It’s so scary! My mother has always been a person of great spirit: one of life’s survivors. She had a childhood filled with poverty with an alcoholic father who frequently hit my tiny little, pinafore wearing Nan after bouts of drink fuelled paranoia. After Nan managed to get away from my granddad, she and the family fled, leaving all their positions and were forced to live in a series of damp, cockroach and rat infected houses. Nan eventually divorced my granddad, something virtually in heard of those days and survival was difficult in that pre-welfare state era.  In spite of this, my mum and her brothers all grew up to be decent, hardworking people and remained close, always looking after their mother until her death in the 1980`s.

Mum married my dad at an age that was then considered quite mature, 26. He was only 22. A year later, I was born and mum and dad bought a comfortable semi in the suburbs. The young couple seemed destined for a happy, comfortable life, until my dad deferred his National service for a year in order to finish the apprenticeship he was doing in engineering. This proved to be a fatal move, because soon after, when I was only 9 months old, my dad was tragically killed in a freak accident during army manoeuvres. He died after his spleen was badly damaged, something that would be unlikely to fatal in this day and age. A person can live without a spleen. My dad died at the age of 23, only 2 years younger than my own son is now, and my father and son share the same name.So mum was left a widow at the age of 27 with a young baby and a broken heart.  But of course she carried on, worked hard and later met another man who she was to spend thirty odd years with. She had no more children. Unfortunately, this man, T, developed rheumatoid arthritis in his late 20`s and was to die at the age of 59 from complications of a body ravaged by this nasty disease. Wheel chair bound and unable to look after himself at the end, it was a difficult time for my mum and was it was probably a relief when he passed away. I mean this only in the respect that it is difficult to see someone living in chronic pain as their independence and quality of life are slowly eroded.
That was 20 years ago. Now I live next door to my mum with my three children and my mum is now 82.  I’ve been noticing for a considerable time now (probably around eight years or more) that my mum was starting to call nearly everything, the thing or the wotsaname.  I have got her to go to the doctors twice in the past about her memory and both times the doctors have said she was marvellous and didn’t need any intervention. But as I am the person with her on a daily basis, I have known for a long time that something is very wrong. In common with many other people who have memory problems, they do seem to make an effort in front of the doctor and how they appear is not always reflective of how they really are. This was certainly the case with my mum. I feel quite bitter because if the doctors had listened to me and understood that sometimes relatives know best, then perhaps she would be in a much better state than the one she’s in now.
What I find infuriating is that my mum won’t acknowledge that there is something wrong even now. I have spoken to the GP who has said that she must come forward herself, but how can this happen when she is not recognising a problem. Her hearing is also quite poor now, and even though she went and got fitted for a £2,000 hearing aid, she says she doesn’t need it and has only ever tried it once! However, she continuously says `what’s he saying` every time anyone speaks, and has done this for nearly a decade now. Why won’t she wear the hearing aid? Why?
It seems to me that everything is unravelling now and it terrifies me as I have no family to consult with, one of the perils of being an only child.
She is becoming increasingly confused and can be quite incoherent at times, but is mostly lucid. Her short term memory is shot to pieces and she can’t retain new information, constantly asking the same questions. I’m ashamed to say I do get frustrated sometimes, but it is hard to remain unaffected.  Another problem is the agitation and inability to relax. She has lost a lot of weight and is always fiddling with stuff, obsessive and really quite paranoid at times. Remembering to take the medication for her numerous health conditions is starting to prove a bit tricky too, as is changing her pain patches.
But in spite of this, she is still the same mum underneath. She still takes immaculate care of her hair and clothes, wears make-up daily, and does her nails carefully. She still has a good sense of humour if I can get her to relax enough to enjoy a funny anecdote or watch a comedy on the telly. She is still charming when she is up to it and people seem to like her enormously. A tot of alcohol seems to help if I can get to take one, helps to mellow her out a bit. Her house is very clean and modern although her tendency to order countless things on the shopping channels have resulted in a lot of clutter, fortunately contained mainly in a couple of rooms.
I don’t profess to be an expert on dementia type conditions in the elderly but would say that my mum is suffering from some sort of vascular dementia brought on by several mini stokes (of TIA`s ) that she has had in the past. Many years of high blood pressure can’t have helped either.

It is so heartbreaking to see my own mum looking like she is heading towards dementia. Heartbreaking and frightening. I don’t know what the answer is or where to go for help as my GP practice are doing their best to turn a blind eye. I just hope it never gets to the stage where I am unable to cope.  I pray to keep strong enough to deal with whatever hand fate throws at us. 

It’s so scary! My mother has always been a person of great spirit: one of life’s survivors. She had a childhood filled with poverty with an alcoholic father who frequently hit my tiny little, pinafore wearing Nan after bouts of drink fuelled paranoia. After Nan managed to get away from my granddad, she and the family fled, leaving all their positions and were forced to live in a series of damp, cockroach and rat infected houses. Nan eventually divorced my granddad, something virtually in heard of those days and survival was difficult in that pre-welfare state era.  In spite of this, my mum and her brothers all grew up to be decent, hardworking people and remained close, always looking after their mother until her death in the 1980`s.

Mum married my dad at an age that was then considered quite mature, 26. He was only 22. A year later, I was born and mum and dad bought a comfortable semi in the suburbs. The young couple seemed destined for a happy, comfortable life, until my dad deferred his National service for a year in order to finish the apprenticeship he was doing in engineering. This proved to be a fatal move, because soon after, when I was only 9 months old, my dad was tragically killed in a freak accident during army manoeuvres. He died after his spleen was badly damaged, something that would be unlikely to fatal in this day and age. A person can live without a spleen. My dad died at the age of 23, only 2 years younger than my own son is now, and my father and son share the same name.So mum was left a widow at the age of 27 with a young baby and a broken heart.  But of course she carried on, worked hard and later met another man who she was to spend thirty odd years with. She had no more children. Unfortunately, this man, T, developed rheumatoid arthritis in his late 20`s and was to die at the age of 59 from complications of a body ravaged by this nasty disease. Wheel chair bound and unable to look after himself at the end, it was a difficult time for my mum and was it was probably a relief when he passed away. I mean this only in the respect that it is difficult to see someone living in chronic pain as their independence and quality of life are slowly eroded.

That was 20 years ago. Now I live next door to my mum with my three children and my mum is now 82.  I’ve been noticing for a considerable time now (probably around eight years or more) that my mum was starting to call nearly everything, the thing or the wotsaname.  I have got her to go to the doctors twice in the past about her memory and both times the doctors have said she was marvellous and didn’t need any intervention. But as I am the person with her on a daily basis, I have known for a long time that something is very wrong. In common with many other people who have memory problems, they do seem to make an effort in front of the doctor and how they appear is not always reflective of how they really are. This was certainly the case with my mum. I feel quite bitter because if the doctors had listened to me and understood that sometimes relatives know best, then perhaps she would be in a much better state than the one she’s in now.

What I find infuriating is that my mum won’t acknowledge that there is something wrong even now. I have spoken to the GP who has said that she must come forward herself, but how can this happen when she is not recognising a problem. Her hearing is also quite poor now, and even though she went and got fitted for a £2,000 hearing aid, she says she doesn’t need it and has only ever tried it once! However, she continuously says `what’s he saying` every time anyone speaks, and has done this for nearly a decade now. Why won’t she wear the hearing aid? Why?
It seems to me that everything is unravelling now and it terrifies me as I have no family to consult with, one of the perils of being an only child.
She is becoming increasingly confused and can be quite incoherent at times, but is mostly lucid. Her short term memory is shot to pieces and she can’t retain new information, constantly asking the same questions. I’m ashamed to say I do get frustrated sometimes, but it is hard to remain unaffected.  Another problem is the agitation and inability to relax. She has lost a lot of weight and is always fiddling with stuff, obsessive and really quite paranoid at times. Remembering to take the medication for her numerous health conditions is starting to prove a bit tricky too, as is changing her pain patches.
But in spite of this, she is still the same mum underneath. She still takes immaculate care of her hair and clothes, wears make-up daily, and does her nails carefully. She still has a good sense of humour if I can get her to relax enough to enjoy a funny anecdote or watch a comedy on the telly. She is still charming when she is up to it and people seem to like her enormously. A tot of alcohol seems to help if I can get to take one, helps to mellow her out a bit. Her house is very clean and modern although her tendency to order countless things on the shopping channels have resulted in a lot of clutter, fortunately contained mainly in a couple of rooms.
I don’t profess to be an expert on dementia type conditions in the elderly but would say that my mum is suffering from some sort of vascular dementia brought on by several mini stokes (of TIA`s ) that she has had in the past. Many years of high blood pressure can’t have helped either.

It is so heartbreaking to see my own mum looking like she is heading towards dementia. Heartbreaking and frightening. I don’t know what the answer is or where to go for help as my GP practice are doing their best to turn a blind eye. I just hope it never gets to the stage where I am unable to cope.  I pray to keep strong enough to deal with whatever hand fate throws at us.