Why Is It So Damn Cold In Here?

Apparently dementia affects more than just memory. I have never in my life had my thermostat yo-yo up and down as much as it has in the past few weeks with my mom here.

She processes exactly two temperatures; extreme hot and extreme cold. But she can't just say, "I'm hot" or "I'm cold." That would be too easy and leaves out too many curse words. It's never chilly, cool, nippy, frosty, or brisk and it's never warm, toasty, stuffy or hot. Those words would be far too ordinary and not worthy of MaMere's colorful vocabulary. Shower time is an opportunity for her to describe both extremes at the same time.

There is a whole procedure to shower time. We don't have an air conditioner/heater vent in our bathroom so I put a space heater on full blast and shut the door about 15 minutes before shower time. I run the hot water ahead of time to get a good head of steam going and to heat up the shower seat. I put towels all over the floor so the she doesn't feel the cold tile under her feet. Three towels are available, one for her hair, one to wrap around her shoulders and one to actually dry her off with. PJ's are on the counter ready to be put on.

The minute she walks into the bathroom it begins…"Damn it's freezing in here." As I help her undress she settles into a litany of complaints…

"Jesus Christ, why does it have to be so cold in here?"

"Mom, raise your arms so I can get your shirt off."

"Goddamn it, you're trying to freeze me to death."

"Yes, I am trying to freeze you to death, now you know. Step out of your pants."

"Can't you do something about getting some damn heat in here?"

"The heater is on full blast mom, step into the tub."

"AHHHHHHH, that damn shower seat is cold; I don't know why you want to torture me with these damn showers. Everyone knows I don't sweat, can't I just take a hooker's bath?"

"No you can't, it wouldn't be nearly as fun for me."

"It’s colder than a well digger's ass in here!"

By the time she is dried and dressed the bathroom is like a swamp. The heater is still blowing full blast and the hot shower has made the room a humid mess. I am sweaty and irritable. She won't leave until she has her socks and shoes completely on and she is moving slower than cold molasses.

 "Mom, I have to get out of here, I cannot breathe in this humidity and heat."

"Well of course you can't, it's hotter than the hubs of hell in here, open that damn door."

Sharon