Dementia: The Bed’s Too Big Without You

I think it safe to say I’ve put up a pretty good performance in bed the last couple of nights.  Just past my 70th birthday I’ve been rather pleased with how things have gone.  I seem to have worked out how to get things off to a good start: the first moves are important as we all know and I seem to have grasped the sort of thing that needs to follow.

Having spent several days establishing a place where men are not allowed, I now seemed to have found a route into Maureen’s bedroom.  Last night followed the ritual of the previous night: no questions asked I just carried on as we have done for years.   Once in bed I kept my distance and went with our normal ritual of ‘night, night sleep tight’.  If my memory serves me right I think I managed to get a perfunctory peck on the lips -have to take things steady at my age.  We were both extremely tired and dropped off as soon as our heads touched the pillow.  In the early hours of the morning I knew I was in the right place.

Maureen was out of bed looking out of the window, she said something along the lines of she didn’t know where she was and needed to know she was in her bedroom with Paul. Then it was: ‘tell me that’s where I am and I will be ok’. How fortunate that I was lying in bed and able to make the right noises to help minimise her confusion.  You can guess where I’ll be aiming to sleep from now on but like all of these occasions it will be  a question of ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’.  Now where have I heard that before?

Postscript:  As I post this Maureen has gone off on walkabouts without telling me.  She nipped out when I thought she was in the back garden.  It’s time to put my ‘money where my mouth is’ and leave her to roam alone for a while.  If I go and find her straight away it will only confirm she is not safe to be out on her own and always needs a chaperone.  My plan is to bump into if her is she is not back within the hour.

Great news she’s just come back after walking around the block.  Who cares she’s in her slippers because there’s a smile on he face as she says she’s ‘not walking enough’.  I knew locking her in wasn’t the way forward!



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