When my soul wandered away

When my soul wandered away

This is a very serious area which I have decided to write after a lot of thought. The basic purpose is to touch a taboo subject and bring it to the fore, rather than sweep it under the carpet.

A healthy human being means one who is physically and mentally sound. As our parents grow old and reach 90 years and above we take a lot of care on the physical aspects of their health. However, we remain unprepared to tackle the mental issues associated with old age. This results in a lot of suffering for our seniors. We ignore mental health aspects as a taboo subject.

My father is 95 years old. He lost his constant companion after 54 years of marriage. I am sharing certain experiences so that other people passing through a similar stage can plan and take proper care of their seniors.

My father was suffering from forgetfulness. Doctors told us that it is normal at this age and they prescribed vitamins and other dietary supplements.

Dementia is not simple forgetfulness or a whitewash of memories. Memories do come in waves and then fade away. He will remember one line of a poem and forget the other lines. The old memory remains intact and the correlation with the old and the new gets disorganized.

For a man like my father – when his memories play hide and seek with him, he goes through a period of frustration and feels helpless. This feeling of helplessness results in him losing his temper and throwing a tantrum. So the sweetest and most accommodating of old man goes through phases of anger and bitterness.

The family Doctors told us to consult psychologists for his fits of anger. Here we faced resistance from my mother (When she was alive) who for emotional reasons could not face the fact that her most respected and loveable companion needs psychiatric treatment. She acted as a buffer between him and us and controlled the situation to the best of her ability. It was not too tough because mostly he is a matured and loveable old man.

Right from the time she was hospitalized, he started crumbling and became an emotional wreck.

However, with my mother’s moral blessings I could tackle him and cool him down but barely. I mostly take him out for long drives and counsel him. I try to take him to pleasant places.

The problem is that every nook and corner of our house reminds him of my mother and he suffers from an agony of emotions. When I take him out, he feels happy initially, but after some time, he wants to go back to his sweet home. He comes back home and again misses my mother.

Taking care of him, I went through the most nerve wrecking emotional stress that I could imagine. On one hand, I remember the strong and happy man that he was once upon a time. A flood of emotions assails me and I remember the many happy and pleasant moments of our life as a small family. At times, even I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

One day he had a massive fit of temper since early morning. He refused all food and water and declared his intention to die that day. He used a term named “Echa Mrityu” – embrace death willingly.

All of us tried our level best – cajoling him to take some food and water but he was adamant. As time passed we started panicking. I know the outcome of such a situation is – he will collapse and we will have to hospitalize him and start using a sedative. Hospitalizing him will create another problem because he loathes being made captive in a bed.

It was then that I rang up one psychiatrist who is a distant relative. The psychiatrist was out of town but recognizing me he gave me a patient hearing and made some queries about his condition. After that, he prescribed some medicines. He told me not to worry since the medicines will not have a sedative effect.

We somehow succeeded in making him take one single pill. About one and a half hour of taking the medicine he cooled down slightly. We took him out for a long drive and after some time we could make him take some meager food and drink.

A few days afterward the psychiatrist came to our home and had a very pleasant interaction with my father. He prescribed some medicines which we are giving him now.

Although his sadness and grief are still there but the reactions are controlled. He still gets panic attacks and fits of anger but these are mostly controllable.

Surfing the net I have learned that Japanese are most prone to dementia or forgetfulness. But they recognize it as a problem. The Japanese had taken many initiatives to take care of the patient with dementia. In fact in Japan people go to dementia clinics after 50 years of age, like we go for master health checkups.

Every day I shed a few tears in the memory of my mother and request God to keep my father happy. He still becomes angry at times but maybe due to the medicines the reactions are slightly muted.

The purpose of writing this piece is to tell all, that we should never hesitate in taking professional help for mental health problems. They are as acute and as serious as physical problems.

Today my father was again grieving for my mother but he was not angry. He sang an old song in her memory which brought tears to my eyes. The song goes something like this:

At the end of my day

In the realm of sleep

My soul wandered away.

For the one whose call came

They left for distant shores

Craving for their company

I remain
Shedding futile Tears

(The original song sang by my father is in Bengali. This is a rough translation)