Shouting. Again.

I promised myself that this blog would be honest.
Even if I'm not doing good things.
And i'm not.

Shouted at Okaasan and Dear Son again yesterday.
Full on, in your face shouting with anger and frustration.
Worst thing to do with someone who has dementia. Worst thing to do in Japan, a land of repressed emotions and unspoken communication.

We - well he mainly - tried to get Okaasan to get up, get dressed and come for a short walk to the outside of the house. To give her leg muscles some kind of exercise.
Long struggle with that, mentally and physically. She didn't even want to stand up in her room.
But after 30 mins she had made it to the entrance hall and put on her shoes. She had the new walking stick he'd bought for her.
She got down the step from the front door onto the porch mat.

Then couldn't get down the next 3 steps into the garden.
Couldn't. Wouldn't.
With help, or without it.
Pain, pain, pain.

Returned to the entrance hall chair.

I lost it at that point.
She was going on and on about how 20 years ago it had got better on its own, or some kind of treatment in Saitama had helped it, and it all got better....how she knows her body better than anyone etc etc etc
And I really do mean etc etc etc

And I shouted.
Got the kitchen calender and waved it at her. FIVE Bloody weeks of this and it hasn't got any better. It's got worse. 6 weeks ago you could walk in department stores downtown, two weeks ago you could get to the local McDonald's. Now you can't get out of the house. Next week you can't get to the toilet? Or the kitchen table?

Wasn't a good moment as a human being. Shouting with fury at an old lady, while her son tried to calm me down.

He got her back into the kitchen and got her to walk a few times around the kitchen for the muscle exercise. She was in great pain.

But.
Maybe breakthrough.
OKaasan says that 20 years ago she went to some kind of treatment place near her home in the Tokyo suburbs for a leg problem...and it helped.
I don't know what kind of treatment. Not mainstream medicine. Some kind of massage place?
The important thing is that she believes it helped.

Dear Son got her to agree that if he can find a similar place in Sapporo, maybe it's a good idea to go again.

That IS a breakthrough. That somebody outside this family can maybe help.
I don't care what the treatment is: it can be an old man who waves Japanese fans over the afflicted area and chants, or someone who does things with fireflies - as long as Okaasan thinks that SHE needs someone's help.
It is a step forward.

I've spent two months this year having acupuncture, and I know for many people that is way out beyond the fringe of common sense. So I am open to the possibility of alternative treatments.

Whatever might work. Let's try it, for F*** sake.

HOW he will get her out of the house and into the car to go to treatment...I don't know.

I hope that the treatment guy takes one look at OKaasan's condition, throws the fans away and calls her an ambulance to take her to a mainstream hospital - but of course, that won't happen. Whoever will try fireflies for a bit...and it might work, or not.
I've told Dear Son that in October, after 2 months I am calling in a home doctor. 

And now. I need to take my blood pressure away all of this. The ocean. The forest. Somewhere better than this house.