Arguing with Miss Cathy about washing her hair was about as
useful as ‘tits on a bull’.
After weeks and days, and years and months of trying to
convince her to do something different about caring for her ‘do’ I’d exhausted
all reason and patience; if I weren’t already bald I’d have pulled my hair out.
My frustration was only topped by my disappointment in
myself for arguing with her about the subject in the first place.
I (thought) I’d learned from my caregivers support group
that you should never argue with someone with dementia, you’d never win so what’s
the point.
Oh well, those fights are all ‘hair down the drain’ so there’s
no sense dwelling on the past.
I realized that what I needed to do was 'something
different’.
After all, Einstein said, "the definition of insanity
is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result” and all
my haranguing Miss Cathy about washing her hair definitely qualified as
‘insane’…100% justified, but still….
I knew I had to try a different tack and it came to me when
I realized that she hadn’t been to the hair salon in quite some time.
In the past I let her make all the arrangements to ‘get her do did’ but we see how well that’s not working
so it was time for me to add ‘grooming secretary’ to the ever-expanding list of
things I do for her because she can no longer do for herself.
I called the salon to make an appointment and it was then
that I realized the solution to my problem.
When the appointed day arrived I drove Miss Cathy (as usual)
but instead of just opening the car door and leaving her to her own devises I went
inside with her; 1) to handle the business transaction because she’s now at a
point where money confuses her so I don’t want her to be taken advantage of and
b) to speak with her stylist for a moment.
When the hairdresser came to the reception stand I
introduced myself and before handing off Miss Cathy to her care I asked how
often ‘one’ should wash their hair after having a chemical curl?
Her reply was “whenever you want but at least every two
weeks” (which surprised me that one could go that long without shampooing but
that’s besides the point).
The point was that I knew Miss Cathy has great respect for
‘professionals’ and now she’s heard from a hair-care professional about what
was acceptable hair care (and not from me-her son, a ‘lay-person’).
And the stylist just so happened to be African-American (so
mom can keep the race card in her deck and save it for some other argument).
I thanked the hairdresser for the information, and didn’t
say a word to Miss Cathy except to tell her what time I’d be back to pick her
up.
Two weeks to the morning after she’d been to the salon I announced
that it was ‘wash day’, she acknowledged that she heard me but with about as
much enthusiasm as if I’d said it was ‘enema day’.
When it got to be afternoon and time was fast approaching
for her to beach herself in bed I had a ‘light bulb’ moment and instead of reminding
her of what she ‘didn’t want to do’ I offered to wash her hair for her…and she
accepted!
So, now I have shampoo days on the calendar along with all
her other appointments and reminders.
Now, if I could only get the rest of her body immersed in
water more often than her hair…oh well, there in lies the rub, “a dub-dub”.
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