Wait a Moment, it Might be the Police Calling

I know what some of you are thinking – just tell your parents what to do!  We’ve tried nice, firm, collaborative, aggressive … but nothing has worked.  When I get suggestions on what has worked for others, it always seems to be a scenario with only one cognitively challenged parent. I have yet to find someone dealing with two parents who have dementia. We have tried many of the suggested options only to have my parents successfully undo changes.  Maybe I should have considered gang intervention training given they have become their own band of knaves as a result of their cognitive changes.

We are to the point where they have pushed us out and they are trying to manage on their own. My mom will call and tell me what’s going on. Some days I feel like I’m talking to a troubled teen friend who knows she’s making bad choices but feels the need to share her exploits and is a little too proud that she’s getting away with her behavior.

The care manager told me earlier that they are trying to determine the status of the paperwork that was submitted to revoke my mom’s license.  She also told me they will be calling the military police when my parents leave. I don’t hear anything else before I walk into a business meeting with my phone on vibrate.

The phone rings and it’s a number I don’t recognize.  I’m chatting with colleague who reads my blog and I have awkwardly excuse myself with “wait a moment, it might be the police calling for me to come pick up my parents. “

My colleague laughs. I’m glad since that was exactly where my head was on this. I feel like I’m now the parent of two troubled teens – however it’s my parents who are being naughty. Sandwiched.

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