Dorothy’s Dementia

Cheryl, I need your help! I do not know why I am here- or even where I’m at.  I do not need to be here -YOU need to come this weekend and get me and take me home. If you need to take me to the doctor to see if I can live by myself, you can do that.  Why should I pay for an apartment when I have a house that I bought and paid for. How would you like it if Jessica did this to you?  I never had a big involvement with anyone.  I never bothered my neighbors.   Who would tell Paul I was inappropriate?   If you want to move into my house and let me move into your house, I’d be happy to do that. I think it’s more of a Paul problem then a me problem- that I have.  Paul is not responsible for me.  I can’t figure out why Paul didn’t come to me and ask me what I was doing all he said to me was that I was being inappropriate.  Then he brought me up here and I don’t’ understand.  There is another issue that I don’t want to talk about, and I don’t know who did it or how and why it happened.  The two little boys broke into my house as I was stringing green beans and they poured something in my mouth, and it must have been a sedative of some kind. After I got here the girls were wondering if I was going to wake up. I was on a gurney in the hall way and they were glad to see me awake.  Then they put me in this room.  I’ve tried to quit thinking about it. I don’t’ know why no one asked me anything about what happened– of course the girls here told me that I didn’t wake up for 5 days they had me downstairs in the hallway- you know those carts I think they call them gurneys.  That’s what they had me on.  And they told me I’d been there for 5 days.  I don’t’ know if that’s the truth or not.  It’s a waste of my money and it annoys me- but you know I can’t seem to communicate with Paul anymore – he doesn’t even come and see me.  I remember one time he came and took me for a car ride.

I tell her there is a book on her desk – a journal that tells when everyone comes to see her, they sign in.

She finds it- and she doesn’t’ believe what she sees and reads.

I don’t like being here I have a house that I should have a right to be in it. I’m not going whine about it.  

No one comes to see me here- I’m all by myself- I don’t’ know no one here.  I don’t know why I’m here I don’t know that there’s anything wrong with me I don’t take any medicine – I’m paying to be here  and my house is empty.  I have no control I have no say and I have to accept that.  Because I have no power to do anything about it.  So, what’s your opinion?

Well, I think you’re in the best place you can be in at this point and time.  Your safe, and around people, Paul and I don’t have to worry about you when we are working. 

People here only eat and go back to their apartment.  I thought they would have exercise in the morning- but I went down there every day for a week and there was nothing- so I quit going.  So, you know I accepted it.  

I would like to go back to my house but I’m not going to beg or plead. I truly thought that I was a better mother to my children -but apparently, I wasn’t.

That doesn’t have anything to do with it mom.   You are sick- you have dementia. 

NO CHERYL- there is nothing wrong with me. 

I remember to go eat, go down to meals, I walk every day- and I can do that at my house.

Bye

Sigh!

Peace & Love,

Cheryl Doreen

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