Living with dementia

I won't give it a capital D. I hate it.
Yesterday my mother wasn't sure who I was. She kept calling me one of my sisters' names and I would correct her. Then she got upset. This is a new thing.
She talked to the mistaken sister about it. She said she was confused because, "Penny's a kid, but there was this adult who looked like her. I thought maybe it was you."

This sucks so much.

I don't care if she gets my name wrong. It hurts to see her struggle so much with this stuff. "Who are these people?" "Where did I put that thing?"

In about a month she'll be living in a new place where they can monitor her better. I know it will be very hard for her at first but I think if she relaxes and keeps the anxiety at bay she'll have the opportunity to blossom and be healthy. But for now I see how the anxiety and stress turn her into someone who doesn't know what's going on.

Did I mention I hate this?