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
Dorothy's Dementia 