The Ice Cream Panacea
Ice Cream and Dementia are closely connected. This is a little-known secret which I am about to share only with you!
This morning’s newspaper had a photograph of the Palais Lichtenstein in Vienna. The article describing it was glorious. It apparently surpasses the more mundane royal residences – such at the Elysee Palace in Paris. Hubby was especially taken by this article. We had been guests of President Mitterrand in the Elysee Palace and certainly found it to be lovely. Hubby read the article to me. He would very much like to visit this Viennese Palace. He asked if it was very far away.
“Yes,” I explained: “It is in Europe. We would have to go there by airplane.” He was discouraged.
“I have never been to Vienna.” Hubby said.
Yes, you have. You and I went there for a few days… many years ago.
“I don’t remember going there.”
Okay, that was no surprise to me. I was prepared to hear the next article from my “newscaster”. No such luck. Hubby started the article about the Viennese Palais once again. The same conversation repeated after he concluded reading.
This happened, not once, but seven times. Whilst I was becoming accustomed to having Hubby ask me “the time” multiple times in a row, this was a far more complex memory loss. He clearly did not remember that he had read the same section before, nor the discussion which followed. But seven times? Each time he read the article with the same enthusiasm as the time before. For me as the active listener, I felt the temples of my forehead begin to pound.
It appears as though he is now unable to retain any new information. At the same time, he is still able to discuss his career from 70 years ago with a moderate amount of accuracy. He does not do as well discussing the business we created together which ceased 25 years ago after operating for 21 years. Somehow, the further back the memory, the more intact it seems to remain.
This evening someone called on Facetime. I showed the screen to Hubby. He denied any connection to the person. But it was a close relative he had known for 40 years. I explained the connection, that this person had been a part of our lives constantly for that amount of time. Hubby accused me of having kept it a secret, and insisted that he must apologize to the person the next time he sees him for not remembering him.
There was nothing I could say that could convince Hubby that I had not purposely kept the connection with this relative a “secret” from him. After explaining how indeed he had enjoyed the relationship, he again accused me of lying and had absorbed absolutely nothing that I had just imparted. The only information that he does retain, is his version of the story, which is a fabrication, but which he feels is the truth. Hence, it is “his truth.” The seriousness of the decline of his memory has become more evident. He speaks of “your brother” or “your sister.” I have neither. I am an only child. I can tell him that, but he will not accept it as fact.
Unfortunately for all involved, I still have not mastered the art of playing along with Hubby’s view (or absence of view) of our 49 years of experiences as a married couple. I actively try to say something evasive or to redirect the conversation, but I am quite unable to create fabrications about our family and our life together. I do not, nor did I ever have a sibling. Exactly how does one lie about something so basic? And if I did, he still wouldn’t remember what I had said. At best it would further confuse him, and far worse is the effect it would have on me. It would totally unhinge me to have to provide a series of lies which I would probably never be able to repeat consistently. (That might not bother Hubby one whit, but it would make me certifiable!) Either way, Hubby would not remember any of it minutes later. At the end of the day, there would then be two of us who would not be able to “connect the dots.” The solution to difficult conversations is “redirection.” I am incredibly incompetent in this department.
After a full day of such repetition, there is really only one recourse, a visit to the freezer section of the refrigerator, to plunge into Magnum’s new ice cream tubs, with hard chocolate chunks everywhere the spoon can reach. There are no calories in ice cream when it is used to compensate for a difficult day. I know this to be true. You can trust me on this!
