When the dementia medicine pushed my mother to the edge

By Gagan Bakshi

I gave the dementia medicine for the first time in the night around 8 pm. She woke up around 11 pm. I could hear her calling out for me. There was fear in her voice. When I rushed into her room, I saw her standing next to the bed holding the walker for support.

Her eyes had a crazed look, and she was trembling. I had not seen her like this before. “There are several roads. It’s a maze. I can’t find the road to my house. I am lost. Help me.” There was an edge to her voice that shook me.

My first thought was that I should not have increased the dementia dosage as advised by the doctor. I had met the neurologist the day before to apprise him of my mother’s progress after he had started a new line of medicines a month back.

The medicines seemed to be helping my mother. She had become a little more manageable. Her outbursts and excited chatter had come down. The neurologist considered this a positive sign.

“The medicine is working. Let’s increase the night dose by another 5 mg,” he said. My uncertainty must have reflected on my face. So, to reassure me, he explained, “There’s no harm. Patients can go up to 20 mg.”

He also contemplated increasing the sleeping dose. She was already being given 5 mg. I expressed my concern regarding her physical health.   She had clearly become weak and sluggish after starting the sleeping drug.

The neurologist listened to me calmly and decided to keep her sleeping dosage at the same level.

“What happens if there is a reaction,” I asked him. He was clear. I could stop the extra tablet that he had prescribed to curb dementia.

So, I increased her dementia dosage

The same evening, I increased my mother’s dementia dosage. However, I was not ready for the extreme reaction. My mother’s overworked mind was visualising things that were clearly driving her crazy. The extra dose instead of battling dementia had pushed her to the edge.

“Can I sit in the living room,” she beseeched me with her eyes darting fearfully around the room. It was as if she was seeing things that I could not see. Yes, of course. I told her. She went and sat on the sofa for a while.

Then, she decided to go back to her room where the room heater was running and it was warmer. However, she insisted that I stay.

I patted her gently to help her go back to sleep. But she did not want to close her eyes. “I don’t want those visions to return. There are people out there who want to harm me. If I don’t listen to them, they will drown me,” the anxiety in her voice was palpable.

“Please don’t go away,” she pleaded holding my hand firmly. “Sleep here,” she insisted.

The free side of the bed had some odds and ends lying on them. I removed them, got a blanket and lay down next to her.

It took quite some time for her to calm down. Finally, I could make out from her slightly relaxed breathing that she was falling asleep. But, in between, she would check if I was still there.

I decided to sleep in the room in case if she had another vision.

Then, I took a decision. I will not allow any extra chemicals to disturb my mother’s mind. I don’t know if I am right. But I have very few choices.

On one side, she needs the dementia medicine if she is to get cured. On the other side, there is no clarity among doctors how far the dementia medicine can go in curing her.

There is still a blind side to the treatment that worries me. For the neurologist, my mother is only a patient. He can experiment with drugs. But for my mother it is her mind. Every change in medicine can do irreparable damage.

Any suggestions in this regard are very welcome. Please leave them in the comment box below.

Read also:

I missed my mother’s first symptoms of dementia, you should not

My first patient had dementia and she made me miserable