Many of you will have heard this story before, but I’m going to tell it anyway.
There is an old Cherokee story that I heard many years ago and that has stuck with me ever since. It goes something like this:
One evening, an elderly Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.
He said, “My son, the battle is between two ‘wolves’ inside us all. One is evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.”
The grandson though about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf wins?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one that you feed.”
The more I think about dementia, the more I feel that this story applies. Whilst we all have the good wolf and the bad wolf inside us, dementia takes away your ability to feed the good wolf and causes you to lose control of your bad wolf.
When I worked in an aged care facility a couple of years ago, there was a floor devoted to dementia patients. They had to be separate from other patients because many of them were aggressive. Sometimes it was verbal aggression, but for those who had suffered dementia the longest, it was always physical aggression. They had lucid moments too though. There was a gentleman in one room who had tried to urinate on me and hit me when we came to shower him in the morning. When I brought him his breakfast in the common room about twenty minutes later, he held my hand and told me I was a beautiful and kind young woman. They have no control over their anger, or over their emotions and behaviour in general.
Yesterday, my mum and I spent most of the day with my grandma. We listened to her stories and complaints of what had happened that week, we diffused her meltdowns over my uncle not doing enough for her (he actually does more than he used to) by going to do her grocery shopping for her and getting keys cut. On the key thing for a second - she got really panicky earlier in the week and had all the locks on the doors into her house changed. When she asked the locksmith for thirteen keys and he said he could only give her six, she lost her temper at him. This is not the grandma I know, She is no longer rational. So yesterday we went out and had those other seven keys cut for her. I thought it would be nice to get her something different for lunch and we got her a bento box from a Japanese place that she’d eaten at before and loved. When we got back to her house, I set her up for lunch, and she told me she didn’t want it.
“Okay, that’s fine grandma, what do you feel like?”
“Come on, if you could eat anything at all right now, what would it be?”
“*silence* *more silence* Lamb chops.”
So, I made lamb chops with vegetables - steamed, not roasted because that suggestion caused a bag of peas to be thrown across the kitchen. My mum took the dog for a walk. Honestly, that was the longest walk that dog has ever been on. By the time they got back, grandma was about halfway through her meal and I was barely keeping my shit together. It was getting dark and that made me nervous because our drive home is no longer well lit and it triggers my eye spasms. Mum decided that this moment (at 6:30pm) was her window to bring up the possibility of grandma moving. To be honest, I knew that she would be resistant. We all knew that. But I never could have imagined that my grandma would be so hurtful in her reaction.
Mum had said, “I’ve been worrying about you. I was wondering if it might be a good idea for you to move up with us? There are-”
That’s as far as she got. My grandma cut her off and started talking about how she would be going out of this house in a box and if she moved closer to us then she would probably die. This is not new. We’ve heard this. My mum picked grandma’s plate up and took it to the kitchen to save any of us from having food thrown in our faces (has happened before). At this point my grandma said, “You’re not suggesting this to help me, you’re thinking about your needs and not about mine. You’re not worried about me, you just want to make it easier for you!”
I heard a dish drop in the sink and I knew that this had hurt mum deeply. I looked at my grandma, a stranger to me now, and I told her that wasn’t true. I told her that mum worries about her all the time, that she wouldn’t be suggesting the move if she didn’t care. I wanted to shout at her to take it back, but I couldn’t. Her bad wolf is taking over. Mum came in with tears down her face and she looked at my grandma. She couldn’t even speak properly, it came out like a whimper. “How could you say that?” It broke me. Grandma said some other stuff but mum and I just sat there and eventually mum said “Fine, I won’t bring it up, I won’t ask you to move ever again.” A few minutes later, we left.
My mum, who is so strong for me every single day, cried the entire way home. I talked to her about this Good Wolf/Bad Wolf story and how I felt it related to dementia. I told her that while grandma might have meant what she said, she’s only seeing it that way because her Bad Wolf is in charge. We talked about some seriously personal stuff. I told her that if grandma wanted to be mad or upset at anyone for us being further away, then she could direct that anger at me. I urged mum not to believe what her own mother had said - she is not putting her needs above those of others. We are in this situation because my dear mama put MY needs above hers. Living here means that she has to travel further to work, to see grandma, to visit her friends. She is no longer in the place she grew up in. She moved out of her comfort zone and is putting herself under immense stress because of her love for me. I cried at this point too. Not because I am feeling self-pity or guilt, but because I was angry.
I was so angry that this monster called dementia has taken my sweet, kind grandmother away from us and left us with the echo of her that hurls hurtful words across the room like they are nothing. I am still angry. I cannot be angry at her because she has no control, but I am still angry. Of course I do feel a little guilty for being the cause of all this, but it is not an all-consuming guilt and I can live with that. I am feeling less angry and guilty than I was last night, even with no sleep.
I am working on feeding my Good Wolf today. My puppy is sleeping on my lap and when she wakes, I’ll bathe her. Not fun for her, but productive and being with water makes me feel good. I donated to some organisations that are important to me earlier today and that made me feel good, even if the donations were small. I also registered mum and myself for our importer’s warehouse sale that we used to love going to. I told her that I wasn’t well enough to go this year and while she didn’t say it, she looked very disappointed. She didn’t want to go alone so she told me it was okay. I feel that I can push through the day to give her some joy, even though I know I will hurt later. I was raised by a woman who consistently puts the needs of others before her own and now wonders, “Who will put me first?”
