Dementia and diet

Since the initial success of my mother’s new regime, I have been investigating natural approaches to dealing with dementia.

Although she has physically improved, she is childlike and mischievous, which is likely to cause more problems, although I am glad her condition generally is much improved.

So, this weekend I have been studying approaches to dementia, to see if there is anything I can tweak to improve her mental state.

Obviously, over the sundowning years, I had cause to use valerian a couple of times, although over the last ten years medical thinking has come around to my way of seeing it and you are now given miniscule doses of diazapam rather than chemical coshing, at least with responsible doctors. Up until now, there was little I could do about her diet, which was not great as she had always been able to eat pretty much what she wanted, unlike me.  If I ate like my mother, I would be even more ill than I usually am.

Anyway, as I have outlined, she is on a super-comprehensive vitamin, mineral, antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, antacid, alkaline diet at the moment, so when I saw that medium chain fatty acids could potentially reverse her dementia, I was immediately interested and sought out exogenous keto products to see if I could check this out, with a view to her taking on a diet more in line with mine.

After much searching, I finally found a product that can put her in ketosis instantly, and which does not cost a fortune.  There is a small hazard of the product being a bit acidic, but I think if it reverses her memory problem it is worth trying once. I was a low carber long before I tried raw and explored other health options so it is not difficult to come up with a plan.

Then I had a look at the counter arguments, which basically consist of her diet already being optimal.  Taking her heart and arterial problems into account, she could not be on a better diet than she is currently.  Are medium chain fatty acids and ketosis worth the risk?

It really depends on how long you want to live and how much you want to remember.  If you want a shorter life, in which you remember more, then go for the low carb option.  It is still possible to do this as a vegan or plant based eater.  If you have heart or artery problems however, it is probably advisable to hedge your bets and go for high antioxidants and perhaps a teaspoon of MCT oil rather than the two tablespoons of coconut oil advised by those who have experimented with diet as a method of helping loved ones with dementia.

I will try the exogenous product and see if I see some improvement over a three hour period.  If so, then she will be living on nuts, seeds, berries and vegetables, which I have done and which is perfectly reasonable. The tricky part will be maintaining her weight on a ketogenic diet, especially once the exercise programme is in full swing.  If it doesn’t work, then it is a very simple case of giving her a nice fruity drink.

Basically, the important thing to learn here is that you mustn’t jump on every bandwagon without checking the counter arguments.  Low carbing for my mother is not the best option for her heart.

So – long life or sharp brain?  Which is best in this case?

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Proof of your raw diet and superfood habit

This week, I had an NHS nurse becoming irate because Supermix and the raw diet has healed my mother’s stage 4 pressure sore.  It seems to be working on one problem at a time, and this week it decided to heal my mother’s foot before it did anything else.

The first thing it did was work on my my mother’s skin, which was like a teabag when she came out of hospital, thin and full of holes. My friend, who is a retired nurse, topically treated it with a common emollient in addition to her diet.  As a result she is still under all the rules for fragile skin, despite having healed serious bruising from the canula in hospital and having been given sufficient nutrition to ensure that her skin is now back to a glossy and healthy normal.

It then worked on her torso, and she is now moving spontaneously again for the first time in months.  She was always very contemptuous of my raw diet, so it is particularly ironic that it is now the only food she can tolerate, and that it is making such a difference.

Towards the end of week two of supermix and a raw diet, she talked about her brother in the past tense for the first time in nine years.  Whilst we are not seeing huge progress mentally quite yet, she is now capable of pulling herself from lying down to a seated position and completing any exercises I give her.

So, now, with the help of my friend, we are restoring her contact with her legs. Supermix, has, however decided to target her feet and lower legs first, so we still have one wasted thigh to restore to its proper size.

We mentioned the sore to this nurse, who told us to leave it alone as it could not be debrided outside hospital and must be left for months.  Two days after talking about it, the necrotic tissue vanished by itself.  She is literally self-repairing from the inside out, and the NHS, according to this nurse, do not like or believe it.

To the credit of our doctor, I received a phone call this week almost as if she were talking to a colleague.  She had received my mother’s blood test results, taken because I had taken her off three unnecessary and harmful medications and replaced them with Supermix.  She did not need disgusting replacement food because supermix is better.  Once on that, she did not require a laxative or a surgical grade antacid which was causing pain and confusion.

The row started because I refused to allow painkillers for her problem legs, which were wasting due to neglect in hospital. (contracture)  I have now isolated the wastage to the right leg via massage, and we are performing massage and stretching to restore her communication with her legs.

All of this is time consuming and requires knowledge that apparently the NHS does not rate.  I am supposed to be a bad carer, because I did not listen to people who wanted to over-medicate and basically sedate my mother to death.

When the blood test results came in, I told the irate nurse.  I wasn’t triumphant about it at all.  My mother is undergoing full spectrum antioxidant therapy with supported mineral and vitamin enhancements thanks to wholefood solutions as a result of Supermix, and there is no point in trying to explain this to someone who is trained to administer commercial medicine.  My mother’s results are apparently spectacular enough to shock the doctor.

So, evidently all these people who cry ‘Wolfe’ about science, and how health promoters are just trying to sell product, are likely to lose their relatives to conventional medicine and its many failings.

Shit happens.

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A crippling workload

Hurrah, the posts from 2016 were unexpectedly being stored on Goodreads, and so I am replenishing the new site with the old posts.  If you are interested, you can now scroll back for a year so far, but as there are so many posts, I don’t think I can do them all in one night.

As regular readers will know, the furniture collection has been very expensive to produce, which has caused major hold ups.  I am seeking a contract or two to finish off the first few pieces, so that I can get on with Lucifer Ogilvie.

In addition, complications regarding my mother have meant that I am unable to do as much work as I have in the past, it is now turning into a huge legal conundrum which I am strangely unphased by.  So far, I have had to sit in a room full of people who have either already lied, or are in the process of lying because I am such a horrible person for taking care of my mother and avoiding people.

What is most irritating about this, is that people who don’t actually know what has been said or done are now jumping on the opposing bandwagon on the assumption that I have somehow forced a career driven carer to lie about my mother, and a pair of vile nurses to assume that because I am very polite, I am also a pushover.  Imagine their surprise when I chased them from the house shrieking thank you, thank you!

Anyway, for the raw foodies watching this saga, my mother now has proper arms again, and I am working on reinflating her legs after the concentration camp style nutrition in hospital.  She is not hugely conversational at the moment, but as you all know, detox involves a lot of sleeping.  I am restretching her muscles at the moment as she was suffering from contracture.

According to the vile nurses and her doctor, this means crushing her legs even more and drugging her so that you don’t hear her scream in pain as her muscles waste.  Instead her legs are gently being stretched with a fierce rub of menthol to restore her muscles in much the same way her arms have responded.  At 90, she has in three weeks recovered her ability to sit up by herself, so I look forward to seeing how these legs turn out when they are done.

The NHS seem to be genuinely offended by her recovery, which is most upsetting. Not quite as upsetting as her absent children’s wish to kill her in a care home.  Yes, looking after her is blisteringly hard work.  No, I do not begrudge it, although I certainly should given the family dynamic she set up in advance of her dotage.

Anyway, I am thinking I should get on with the shoe collection to pay for more resin, and I need to work on the computer games.

 

Toodle pip,

 

Ina

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Helping is better than being helped

My mother is now bed bound because someone who has never even met her decided that her perfectly adequate chair was unsuitable for her.  Now someone else who has never met her is supposed to come around to the house to determine whether the chair is suitable, until then she is trapped in her bed.

This is because the consultant, who has never met me, decided that my mother was too heavy for me to carry and decided to force me to accept help from teams of carers, who are not willing to take the health and safety risk of putting her in a chair on the days that she is well enough.  On top of this, she is to spend all day in a position which makes it easier for them to change her when they come in, which hurts her back.

Today I caught one of them asking if she would not prefer to be eating rolls and sausage than her raw diet.  She can do this if she wants, but if she does she will have to be put back on the surgical grade antacid and the laxative, she will be in further pain which warrants a painkiller, and she will be confused because the medication does that.  When I explained this to my mother, she decided she would rather continue on her raw diet.

When a hostile nurse explained to me that every decision was now to go through social work, I declined any further input.  Why are we having ten people involved, when my mother has previously done very well with only one person, I asked? She immediately became very frightened and did not answer.

The bottom line is, because I have had help forced on me, my mother’s quality of life has actually declined and we are at constant risk of input from morons who don’t actually care about her well being any more than they care about mine.  I object to this, and I object to 14 hours of my day revolving around sitting waiting for people I do not want to see.

This was only one of the bits of interference that annoyed me this week.  The other one was from my friend, who again tried to joke about bringing cake to my house when I was miserable about Wolfe and struggling.  He apparently doesn’t know about boundaries, so I have had to explain this, in a variety of ways, ever since.

Why it would not be perfectly simple to do what a person asks in their home I do not know, but apparently he is a bit thick in this respect.

So this time I got really annoyed.

Am I the only person that can see that having to physically eject someone from my home for bringing and offering cake repeatedly when I ask him not to is a bit ridiculous? He even suggested that my objection somehow deprived my mother, and said he would do what he liked in my home.  I am not sure why this is a difficult issue for him.  If I don’t want your cake in my home, you don’t bring cake, surely?

It is not the actions of a friend to try to sabotage your life.  When people do things like this, they are actively trying to damage you.  I have explained this to him time and time again.  He refuses to understand, and apparently refused to recognise that I ought to be able to set the rules in my home.

I am constantly under attack, the last thing I need is more bullshit from someone pretending to visit me in order to damage my health via my mother.

Anyway, at the time I cried.  He thought this was hilarious, and it is unlikely that he is ever going to explain why he thinks damaging me is a good idea, since he has tried it so often.  Being alone sucks.

 

 

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