How much does he know?
A few days ago, Barry was watching TV and looking really sad. He had been up a lot the night before, trying to shower and shave at 2:00 a.m. I asked him if he was tired. He said no, but he just felt that something was wrong and didn’t know what it was. He said, “I just don’t feel right.” I immediately asked, “You mean your dementia — is that what you feel is wrong?” He has never felt that there was anything wrong with him all this time, so I thought maybe now I could get a glimpse into his feelings. I asked again, “Barry, is it your dementia that is bothering you?” He said, “F you,” and returned his attention to the TV.
Shortly after this episode, he stopped making his sandwich for lunch or macaroni and cheese for dinner. He can’t do it anymore. I think for a brief moment he was aware he has dementia. However, that realization was quickly lost, along with the simple skill of making food for himself. Now if I don’t organize and layout his food for the day, he doesn’t eat anything except jellybeans — which is just another odd food addiction he has.
I guess it’s a good thing that he isn’t aware of the dementia because he will never know how much he has lost. I can carry that for the two of us.