The New Year brings into our lives new experiences and along with those come new people, and inevitably they become the new victims of my mother’s dementia. Oh not in a sinister way, but in the “Hi my name is Marion and watch out how you phrase things to me because I will getcha” way.

Mom has become so literal with her dementia, or perhaps more one dimensional in how she processes the English language. Especially when it comes to answering questions or following instructions. She frequently needs reminding and redirecting to perform a task or answer a question and simple declarative statements work best with her, as she tends to be quite literal in her interpretation.

As a result my life with mom, runs the range of emotions, depending on who is being addressed, from awkward, explanatory, apologetic to mostly humorous. I never know what each new person we encounter is going to bring into our lives, because of their moments with Marion, and the emotion they will create for me.

So set the stage, with the entrance of a new health care provider. Going to the doctor as I have shared before, is difficult for me because mom is always in the room. As she is the patient, we have to talk about her and whatever issues need to be addressed in front of her. But because of her dementia, of course she has no memory of why we are at the doctor and the purpose of the visit. As a result, mom gets easily agitated and confrontational.

Because mom needed to establish a new healthcare provider here in San Diego, I took her to the new office to meet the doctor last week, with a follow up this week with the Nurse Practitioner for a complete physical.

We started with the typical explanation of her history, her dementia and all the questions that accompany such an inquiry.  I try my best to let mom answer for herself as it seems to keep her calmer, but it also gives the health care provider a better opportunity to see the extent of her dementia.

Because mom had a recent urinary tract infection, the Nurse Practitioner (NP) started to ask her questions about her daily routine, which included her bowel movements and the “quality” of said routine movement. When mom asked her “What do you mean the quality of my bowel movement?” The NP looked at me knowingly and rephrased with “Your poop, how is your poop?” Mom answered with “Well it is there.”

I am trying my best to stay out of it, after all mom is the patient, but it is all I can do not to start laughing. The NP was amused but professional when she came back with “Good I am glad! But what does it look like?” Mom answers “Like poop!”

At this point I still remained a bystander even as I could not help but laugh at such a predictable answer, and in all fairness a very good one. Finally the NP gets the  rhythm she is looking for and explains “OK but what is it like? Is it hard like little marbles, is it runny, firm or soft?” There is a pause, or maybe it was just me silently saying in my head “Wait for it…” when mom exclaims indignantly “How would I know! I don’t reach down and touch it!”

…and Scene.