Shopping

One of the sad things in life is how no-one sees you as you were - only as you are now.  Once my husband who wore lovely clothes and always,always looked nice.   We were a 'golden' couple.

Nowadays I pay 'buddies' to keep him company when I go horse-riding or to the gym.  We tried the memory club but one thing he could remember was that he didn't like that!

 Today I took him shopping for our holiday (his sister's coming too).  First I have to sort out things that might suit.  Get him to a changing room.  Get him out of the clothes he's wearing and help him into the ones I want him to try.  It all takes ages.  I have to find a men's changing room where I can join him or he never emerges - just stands paralysed by indecision surrounded by clothes that are either half on or half off.    I have discovered our local H&M have a disabled changing room so we have plenty of room  to fumble around in.   If something isn't right I can't leave him to go and find another  size or he may follow me out half dressed.  Anyway, partial success! We bought some trousers and t-shirts that looked OK.    Back home we found the pack of pants from TK Max only had two pairs inside - someone had whipped the third pair.  I should have looked more carefully but you stop worrying about these things when your partner has dementia.  It's just a matter of getting on with things as best you can.

Tomorrow I'll tackle the packing

Dog Days

Today was windy and rainy.  Just the two of us at home.   In a sunny interval we took the two dogs for a short walk.   Bruce can't seem to manage long walks nowadays.   As usual our whippet nosed off into someone's garden.  'I wish she wouldn't do that', I said.
 
'When I went for a walk with Helen (a friend), she was off into people's gardens all the time'.

'I can't believe it. Why?' he seemed interested.

 'Well she's just nosey I suppose'.

  'What a hard nosed bitch'.

  'She's just a daft dog'.

So the conversation rambled on til I realised.  He thought it was my friend  disappearing into people's gardens.   Oh the joys of dementia.  And at least we'd talked which is often hard these days.