Confused and Content: Living With Dementia

Normal. All I could think of at first was that she looked normal. I guess I expected someone much older with white hair and a noticeably confused look in their eye, but she was just another perfectly groomed, middle-aged woman with a never-ending smile on her face. It didn’t take but a few words to know that while she may not appear out of the ordinary, her brain definitely does.

“How are you,” she asked for the third time within 10 minutes of conversation. It was evident that she genuinely wanted to know, even though I had already told her twice. Andrea Griffis, while full of life and compassion, could not manage to tell me what day it was or where she lived. She, unfortunately, is diagnosed with dementia.

“My brain isn’t working today,” Griffis said, knowing for a moment that something was not right. Sadly, what she did not understand was that it wasn’t just that day. It is every day for her. Regardless of the confusion, her smile was still there, her laugh was still loud, and her eyes were still bright. She is lighthearted, sweet, and funny, earning her a visitor per day.

One might expect someone with dementia to seem upset and weary from the mental battles they are constantly facing, but Griffis was the complete opposite. She had something about her in the way she talked and the way she looked. I could tell she was happy, maybe even content. While she was occasionally frustrated with not knowing the answer to a question, she quickly brushed it off with a fun comment or a joke. She even said her proudest accomplishment was getting up in the morning. I thought that comment was terribly sad at first, interpreting it as her being proud of such an easy task. But from talking to her, even in a brief amount of time, it was clear that it was genuinely a playful comment meant to celebrate the small victories in life.

I didn’t gain much information of substance from Griffis, but I could still tell what was important to her. Between her repetition of phrases and the glimmer in her eye when repeating them, some things had stuck in her memory more than others.

It was clear that family is important to her. When asked about her favorite memory in life, she chose the moment her first son was born. She later revealed that she had three sons in total. Her father was very influential in her life as well. She spoke very highly of him, saying he was “an excellent man,” and expressing that she “can’t say enough good things about [him].” Griffis even took her time to inquire about how many people were in my family, though she couldn’t quite finish her thought. She did not forget, however, to mention multiple times that she had five brothers; they must have had some impact on her growing up, but I could not seem to figure out what it was. Maybe most important to her, though, was her husband Stoney.

Stoney is kind, warm, and outgoing, just like his wife. I had the pleasure of interviewing him as well, in order to get more insight on whether his wife was answering according to how she would have before her diagnosis. It was very intriguing to see which things she had forgotten, which things stuck with her accurately, and which things were totally off.

Andrea Griffis was diagnosed with early onset dementia about six years ago. With dementia being a condition that runs in her family, they knew it would only be a matter of time before she needed to live in an assisted living facility that had a floor made for the care of residents with dementia. Stoney says he knew there would be a time when he could not care for her safely, and when the wandering and rampant delusions started getting more intense, he knew it was time. Most importantly, he made sure to tell her he was not leaving her. And he has kept up with that promise, visiting her almost every day.

When Griffis was diagnosed, she understood what was going on. That quickly faded, however, as Stoney recounts times of her saying, “I don’t belong here. All the people here are strange and weird. They're really sick. I’m not sick.” when having a bad day. It is almost indescribable, the experience of one trying to prepare themselves to go into a memory care floor every day, not knowing what to expect. Will it be a bad day for her, or a good day? He can’t really know.

“She doesn’t realize where she is mentally,” said Stoney with a sudden lack of energy. That continues to be really hard for him to see, even though he can acknowledge it and still love her for who she is now. It would be hard for anyone, but regardless of the change, he always had a smile on his face when adding how she is still loving, caring, and wonderful to this day. He says he can even still see the same glimmer in her eye now. I see it, too.

The overarching reality of it all is that, despite the disease, she still seemed to be her. And by that, I mean she seemed to know who she was; she seemed to still have a sense of self. Griffis may not have known who the president is or where she went to college, but I could tell her passion for kindness was still there. This sense of self was consistent up until the end of the interview. Even when I asked what her biggest regret in life was, in a confident tone she replied, “I don’t have too many regrets... I really go after everyone in a polite way.” And she does.