Sometimes finding the humor is the best we can do.
This morning I saw a new dementia patient, Mr. Bukubux.
He's an older gentleman, who hasn't quite been himself for a while, but his family couldn't put a finger on what was different... Until recently.
He and his wife are members of Headupthebutt Country Club, and have an annual holiday party for their friends. At these shindigs he's always the bartender, which he enjoys doing and is good at.
At this year's party, however, several guests complained to Mrs. Bukubux about their drinks. He'd forgotten various people's favorites, though that was a minor issue.
More concerning was that he was mixing them incorrectly, combining ingredients at random, depending on which bottles happened to be near him at the time.
One lady ordered a scotch & soda. Mr. Bukubox handed her a coffee mug containing milk and red wine, with a lemon floating in it.
Another man asked for a martini. He was handed apple juice with a Ritz cracker bobbing in it.
I bet that Ritz cracker was STOUT!
ReplyDeleteIts time for this couple to stop paying dues to the HUTB Country Club and look into a Headupthebutt Assistant Living with an alarmed ALZ unit.
ReplyDeleteAnd this was the FIRST thing they could put a finger on it? I assume he has been driving the family Bentley around to the club. Any dents on that sucker?
ReplyDeleteI'm with Terri. Do they even talk? How can they not have noticed until he got that bad?
ReplyDeleteI annoy my husband regularly by reminding him what he forgot. I'm keeping notes.
This story actually made me kinda sad :(
ReplyDeleteIt is sad. But, like I said, sometimes the best we can do is see the humor in the situation.
ReplyDeleteI am with Terri and The Mother, my Grandmother had dementia/Alzheimers and we noticed way before anything like this happened. This is crazy. They're lucky he hasn't killed someone with his driving. Denial is such an interesting beast. Dang. It is so sad though. Horrible disease for the loved ones, not so bad for the person that has it, as every day (sometimes every minute) is a new one!
ReplyDeleteCome on. Who DOESN'T mix milk and red wine?
ReplyDeleteIt's terribly sad, but you're right - finding humour in it is a good thing. I'd like to think my grandpa would have laughed at his own strange behaviours if he'd known what was happening.
PLEASE don't let me get that disease...wait, PLEASE don't let my husband get that disease. He's nicer than I am. You're right, sad but funny. This doctoring business isn't easy, is it?
ReplyDeleteWow...I'm with everyone else...obviously this family doesn't communicate very often or very well...let's hope he hasn't been handling the family finances the way he fixes his drinks...
ReplyDeleteYour blog was recommended to me today and I'm glad it was.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to reading the further exploits of your patients! What a great idea.
I've heard milk and red wine are excellent together ;)
Maven from A Fabulously Good Life
That apple juice martini was clearly a toddler-friendly martini, although I think goldfish crackers would have been classier. Add a shaving of fine aged Cabot cheddar for decoration and it could be the Vermont state non-alcoholic drink. (Okay, I'm kidding about the last part.)
ReplyDeleteWV: carimb. Adj., how I feel about my family after drinking a mug of milk and red wine.
We like to remind each other of my mother-in-law's antics in the last couple of years of her life - and laugh about them. I know that she would have laughed herself (if she didn't have dementia - hmmmmm, uhh, well, you know what I mean!) at some of her antics. I miss her every day. I still remember her insisting that we had to redecorate her hospital room before the minister got there to see her - I moved a chair, and she was happy! And when I took her to get new glasses - she kept trying on different frames, and didn't like any of them. She finally said that NONE of them helped her see better; some of them didn't even have glass in them! I quietly picked a pair of frames and handed them to the optician - she was amazed when they worked a bit later!
ReplyDeleteSometimes, when I meet an absoulutely delightful dementia patient....I think there are many worse things that can befall a person.
ReplyDeleteFolks, the body's gonna break, we can't control how or when (ultimately).....so let's just try to enjoy it!
(I know, easier said than done!)
Sounds like the crap you might make a pledge drink during a hazing ritual.
ReplyDeleteI'm a new reader to your blog and absolutely love it!!! I can always count on snorting with laughter when reading your material. Keep it up and Happy New Year!
ReplyDeleteA lot of times the family ignores these kinds of "red flags" until someone else (not a relative) says "something is really wrong with Grampa!"
ReplyDeleteHappens a lot; even worse is when the folks get admitted for a hip fracture or MI or infection and family (usually children who live far away) insist he was perfectly normal until the day of admission - 22 invasive tests later a neighbor shows up to say this has been his mental status for a year...
Some movie HAS to steal that. The demented bartender.
ReplyDeleteStarring Peter Falk, if he's still alive. I'm too lazy to Google him.
I work in a pharmacy, we have an 80-year old patient that comes in, sweet as can be, with five sons, but not one of them takes care of her. She lives alone, and she's really been slipping lately. She called us four times the other night to see of her RX was ready, three of them within about 20 minutes. I'd love to say something to one of her kids, but they only come in once in a blue moon. Sad stuff.
ReplyDeleteHey, I have one of those martinis in my kitchen sink right now! And another one--chocolate milk with a macaroni noodle. (Time to empty the dishwasher...)
ReplyDeleteYou don't suppose Mr.B's own cocktails made his situation worse, do you?
Crying. Laughing.
ReplyDeleteI just discovered your blog and I love it!
Yup. I'm reading backwards in your blog instead of writing my patient notes, so you know I'm enjoying it (and really don't want to write my notes).
ReplyDeleteThis post struck a particular chord with me, however, since my grandfather was initially diagnosed with Alzheimer's when he forgot how to mix my (charmingly) alcoholic grandmother's drink-of-choice, which he had been mixing for decades.
He was 80, and gave up his psychoanalytic practice after that.