I don't really have anyone to listen to me who I know personally -not over the internet- so I'm typing this up in the knowledge that you guys will offer that. This is difficult to put into context, so please bear with me. Yesterday, Saturday 6th February 2016, my Granddad passed away at approximately 6:30 am. He suffered for years under the merciless wrath of lewie body dementia. I'm not sure when he was diagnosed, but it was a long time ago. I remember seeing him stand up as if making to clear away his cup and plate, but instead he picked up his cup and poured his tea over his plate. It was heartbreaking to see him so unsure and confused as to what does what. He used to be strong, not tall, but very strong. He'd make us dens and tell us stories about King Kong, the where are we men, big ears, tommy tickle toes, twelve noses, why the robin had a red breast and many many more. He had loved football, and even has an autograph from Tom Finney and always used to show us some old leather (antique) football boots. I remember my Grandma telling me that they met outside of a sweetshop, he had offered to walk her home. They forged their life out of nothing, and he worked in the army to fight against terrorists (they were named something different back then). He earned many meddles, which he keeps in a clever little hiding place. When he had aged out of the army, he went on to work on roads (It's vague, but that's all I know). He retired quite late, still working part time in my early memories of him. (I think). It was around October last year when he started to eat less than usual, and in November my Grandma got a soup maker to make it easier for him to eat (and for her to care for him). They got their beautiful garden cut down as they could no longer spend as much time maintaining it, it's still pretty though. My Grandma said that he stood up, walked over to the window to look at the Garden and said "It's nice, I like it." The next day he wasn't even able to get out of bed. He was awake, but unable to get out. My Grandma and Dad noticed something on his heels, so the nurse was called out. She bandaged them lightly, and called for a doctor to look at them. Unfortunately, he insisted that my Grandad had to go into hospital. My Grandma was reluctant, but of course she couldn't do much about it. When he was in hospital, they wouldn't let my Grandad eat or drink for the fear of him not knowing how to swallow. It took a while for them to bring in someone who would examine if he could swallow. He could, and was put onto a thin diet (Texture C, apparently). Over the 3 weeks he spent there, hid fluid/food intake became worse and worse and had to go onto a glucose drip at least twice. Again, my heart shattered. He was deemed medically fit to leave the hospital as the symptoms he was suffering from were part of his dementia. He was put into a care home, a care home with a bad rating and with carers that thought his pain was him trying to talk. I'm not sure when exactly, but he forgot how to swallow. The care home said that they couldn't provide a drip, which I found and still find frustrating. He spent two months without a proper meal of fluid intake and two weeks with no food and water. He was unable to talk or open his eyes. Though a few days ago, he had one eye half open but was still unable to communicate. He died- most likely- of dehydration yesterday morning. He seemed peaceful beforehand, but the rest of the time he suffered greatly. My mum woke me up early to tell me, and when my dad returned from the care home he just said "He's gone (my name)." I hugged him. Today we (the family close to my Grandad) went to Church so that we could pray for him. I feel numb and nothing feels real anymore. Yesterday I was crying but today I just feel so empty. Thanks to whoever read all this, you truly have patience.
I know how it feels to lose someone you love. It takes time to process it. The one who died on me was still young, your grandfather had a story to tell. You are left to tell that story, while you still can remember it. The story of your grandfather belongs to national history as well. It is the lives of normal people who matter, the lives we should be studying at school, 'cause those lives can teach us way more than the life of a king or a popstar. You've got a treasure on your memories, don't let it die, share it with the world. I can't tell you how long it will take you to recover from this pain. Nobody can. If it helps, knock me a PM, I've been there and I know the first months are very confusing and consuming. It's time to be together, to cry together and embrace each other. At least Death brings out the best of us, at least while it is still called Death on our minds, for some the name changes after a while, but that shouldn't be no concern of yours now, just keep the knowledge in mind, it might come handy sometime, at least so you can forgive them. You are not on your own, just send me a pm, I've been there, I've seen it, and if you need a hand to hold yours, I'll feel honored to be that hand. Out of curiosity, and I hope you don't take this badly, but are we talking republicans here?
Honestly, I have no idea. My father just said that they were called something different. I've forgotten where he fought, but I know it was somewhere in the mountains. Which mountains, I don't know. Don't worry, I'm not taking your words in the wrong way. He was quite young, in his 70's, but as you probably know age doesn't matter at a time like this. He's gone and that's not going to change. Unfortunately so, (*hug*)
Sorry to hear about this... do you have brothers and sisters or are you the only one? Dementia is awfully cruel but, as someone said to me once, it is hardest on the family around the sufferer. The sufferer is not always fully aware of what is wrong with them or what is going on
Yes, there are many sharing my grief. This type of dementia included parkinsons, and other health problems that he well and truly suffered from. He definitely became frustrated with himself when trying to string together sentences and when he couldn't remember things as clearly. His dementia causes him to believe that he and my Grandmother had once split up, but got back together. This would have been a difficult to deal with. He must have also been lonely, my Grandma once said that during the night he said "(Grandma's name)" She listened and he continued, "I'm looking for you (Grandma's name)". She was right next to him, but he couldn't recognise her. Yes it was and is hard on us, but no one can determine who it was truly hardest on.
