Bright Spots

Mum asks constantly, "Where are the cats?"

You can give her a straight answer - as long as it is always that the cats are in (she gets really anxious if she thinks they are out), but a moment later, the question comes again:

"Where are the cats?"

"I've just told you, Ma - the cats are in."

"Oh. I didn't hear you."

"That's o.k. Anyway, all the pussy cats are in, and they are snug and warm and they have all been well fed."

"Ah, that's good.  They're good pussy cats."

"Yes, indeed they are. So you don't need to worry about them!"

A minute or two later, the catechism begins again:

"Where are the cats?"

The questions and answers can bat back and forth like a game of badminton, until you decide to toss the question back:

"Now, Ma, what did I just tell you?"

There's a pause for a moment. Then, "Oh, you said the cats are in!"

"That's right! So now you can relax, and know they are all happy and well fed and warm."

"Oh, that's good!"  And sometimes, for half an hour or so, it is.

We know and accept the short term memory loss and, if it's frustrating for us, it must be more frustrating and frightening for Mum, although she doesn't seem particularly upset when she keeps asking us about the cats, and is pretty contented by the constant reassurance.

However, there is one treat that she remains completely lucid about.

Mum loves going for Tea at the Ritz.