Okaasan back on course.
That's the strange thing about dementia: there can be a lot of strange thoughts going inside which often pop up in strange conversations or actions, but at this early/mid stage of dementia all generally looks ok on the outside.
Okaasan isn't running around in her knickers howling at the moon or anything. Yet.
To meet her, she is a nicely dressed old lady, trotting out every day to take a walk, going downtown on the subway to shop, dropping into coffee shops and stores to look, chatting to strangers waiting for the train.
Behind this: a lady who isn't really sure what month or day it is. Whether she had lunch or not. Not sure at all where money or keys are. Sitting at home surrounded by plastic bags of rotting food, dirty underwear, bits of paper, unfinished-long-ago things to do, unable really to cook or clean or plan her week ahead. Her conversations are sometimes ok, sometimes a bit random - clutching to the last word or idea she heard and not connecting conversation points.
But yesterday was good. Yujiro and I came rushing home late, to throw dinner together just before 7 pm. But Okaasan wasn't bothered: she'd been downtown and enjoyed watching the Ozawa/Kan roadshow as the candidates in next week's ruling party smackdown match came to Odori Park and spoke to thousands of people...who can't vote for them anyway because it's a politicians and party members only vote as befits a democracy on the British model.
So Okaasan had a good day out in the park with the politicians, she thought maybe she'd eaten lunch and wasn't so hungry really. No talk of hula dance.