#tw: dementia

[theboredasexual]

Hey so. Can you imagine Stan and Ford growing old(er) and eventually some things start to slip from Fords memory? Like little things at first, but then he forgets MAJOR shit, or he regresses to different periods in his life, etc... stan having to watch his brother lose his memory, and not being able to stop it...MCGUCKET having to watch. Damn. Why did I think of this.

[halfdent]

NOTE:  THIS  VERSE  IS  PREDOMINANTLY  REEVES  SITUATED  BUT  CAN  BE  ADAPTED  FOR  NOLAN  VERSE  .  &&  EVERYTHING  IS  SUBJECT  TO  CHANGE  AS  OF  THE  COURSE  OF  THE  PENGUIN  SERIES  OR  FILMS  RELEASES

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴:  Age  45  DA  of  Gotham  City  Harvey  Dent  was  making  a  name  for  himself  ,  having  prosecuted  the  terrorist  THE  RIDDLER  /  SCARECROW  (  in  Nolan  )  .  He  has  been  adorned  the  affectionate  name  'Apollo'  by  the  general  public  .

Before  his  death  Carmine  Falcone  was  the  focal  point  of  Harvey's  career  ,  his  next  biggest  case  ,  after  years  of  trying  to  condemn  him  behind  bars  .  Now  he  will  have  to  settle  for  the  mobster's  heir  .  Alberto  .  /  IN  THIS  PROLOGUE  HARVEY  CAN  BE  SEEN  WORKING  IN  COURT  ,  ATTENDING  FANCY  GALAS  && PUBLIC  APPEARANCES  .

l  .  Tempering  with  crime  families  have  their  consequences  ,  in  this  case  a  vile  of  acid  to  the  face  while  prosecuting  a  known  of  associate  to  the  mob  .  The  new  Falcone  crime  family  ,  wanting  to  show  Dent  that  things  have  evolved  since  "  Freak  Crime  "  started  in  Gotham  City  with  Edward  Nashton  .

Dent  ,  fighting  to  keep  his  place  in  public  office  after  being  brutally  disfigured  by  the  prosecuted  during  a  trial  .  The  office  is  destitute  to  try  &&  make  the  District  Attorney  see  reason  &&  stand  down  .  To  which  he  refuses  .

At  home  his  marriage  to  Gilda  is  failing  terribly  after  it  is  revealed  they  had  lost  their  unborn  daughter  to  a  rare  complication  in  her  pregnancy  .

Frequently  visits  to  the  care  home  reveals  that  Harvey's  father  has  dementia  &&  it's  worst  stages  .  Still  he  confides  in  Harvey  is  silver  two-headed  coin  .

Harvey  begins  to  suffer  from  frequent  blackouts  ,  those  to  which  he  had  significantly  less  of  in  comparison  to  his  very  disturbed  childhood  .  &&  a  familiar  voice  begins  to  beckon  him  again  ,  reminding  him  of  his  disturbed  childhood  with  his  abusive  father  ,  how  the  coin  two-headed  coin  was  used  in  a  cruel  game  of  abuse  by  his  father's  hand  .

In  time  these  blackouts  lead  to  out-burts  ones  that  terrify  his  wife  ,  && worry  that  of  his  co-workers  .  When  Harvey  inevitably  meets  his  replacement  the  council  suggesting  that  "THE  JOB  WAS  PROVING TOO  STRESSFUL"  for  him  .  &&  Gilda  leaving  a  home  with  a  letter  threatening  a  divorce  .  Harvey  is  left  with  little  more  than  an  empty  home  &&  a  petious  offer  to  become  the  new  DA's  assistant  .  To  which  his  over-contentious  replacement  dares  to  call  him  a  ' TWO-FACED FREAK '  when  Harvey  still  proves  to  be  the  more  competent  lawyer  of  the  two  of  them  ;  when  provoked  TWO-FACE takes  stead  &&  attacks  him  .  The  council  have  no  choice  but  to  lay  him  off  of  work  .

||.  With  everything  he  ever  worked  for  snatched  away  Harvey  and  Two-Face  have  no  choice  but  to  take  matters  into  their  own  hands  .  This  part  explores  the  transition  from  Gotham's  Apollo  to  villain  while  Harvey  exacts  revenge  and  attempts  to  expose  the  corrupted  District  Attorney  in  his  place  and  outmatch  those  who  forced  him  out  of  his  own  livelihood  by  beating  them  in  their  own  game  .  Eliminating  the  criminals  of  Gotham  though  with  a  sense  of  justice  he  gives  them  a  chance  that  no  one  ever  gave  him  . A COIN FLIP . A CHANCE .

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Memorio Occultae, In Nubio Occultas- Intro post.

My first OC work!

Premise:

Dr. Adrian Everheart would himself say that he is one of the luckiest people in the world. A fulfilling career at a young age, a name that commands respect, a loving mother. What more, he would ask with a smile, would a man want?

Nothing more. And yet, as time goes by, all the happiness in his life seems to be slipping away, lost in the ghosts of the past.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Characters:

Dr. Adrian Everheart: A budding neuropsychiatrist, specialised in geriatric psychiatry. 27 years of age.

Ms. Alazne Everheart: Adrian’s beloved mother, a writer. 60 years of age.

Dr. James Sinclair: Adrian’s mentor. 53 years of age.

Dr. Marissa Greengrass: An esteemed older colleague of James and Adrian. 68 years of age. Credit to @dreamer-in-sleep for this lady’s name!

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Trigger Warnings:

Please pay attention to this list.

Mentions and depictions of dementia.

Confused/disoriented character

Heavy emotional distress (character breaking down/panicking)

Loss of memories/identity

Please do not interact with this fic if such topics are your squick.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @dreamer-in-sleep

Please let me know via DM/comment/ask if you want to be added to/removed from this list.

[thekristen999]

My mom just called to thank me for her birthday card. I went along with it and when she was done, I paused and asked if she called my sister?

"Of course, it's her birthday, too."

I actually teared up because she knows whose birthday it is. Deep down. It's still there. And when I called my sis, she confirmed my mom did call her.

That means a lot. She hasn't remembered either of our birthdays in a while.

[aeshnalacrymosa]

“That was a wonderful story.”

Inspired from "Like Fog Dissolving in the Sunrise" by @riathedreamer

Daytime version:

Mirabel is wearing 1960 fashion because she is 25 in the story.

[naviculariis]

I'll be alright. I am gonna slide back into a semi-hiatus until I know when the service is + how long I'll be traveling for. Sorry for the delay, again,,,

He was almost 90. He had Alzheimer's and Dementia. I have very, very fond memories of him dressing up as Santa because the man looked like Santa. He was Santa in parades. Kids would come up to him and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. He drove me in my senior Christmas parade where I was crowned Mrs. Merry Chirstmas. He watched me graduate high school. And college with my first two degrees. And he has this big, booming laugh. He was such a happy man, always joking and laughing and trying to make everyone around him smile. He was bigger than life itself.

I'm not sobbing, upset. I'm heartbroken. But I'll be okay.

[thcmcnstcr-a]

Tw: vent post. Not for rp specifically, more just what's going on in my life. I genuinely just don't really have anywhere else I feel comfortable taking this at the moment. Feel free to skip over this 💚 I'll be alright and will be back as soon as I'm able. Things are just hard at the moment and I appreciate your patience.

I'm pretty sure it's getting close to time that we might have to put my dog down. I'm obviously going to be talking to my vet about it soon and seeking out medication if it might help the situation but... I'm not super hopeful anymore and I'm so scared that I'm keeping her here longer than she wants to be. I'm pretty sure she has dementia and I.... It's so hard seeing her becoming so different. I've been trying so hard to pretend that she hasn't been on the decline, and trying to accommodate her as much as I can, but it's getting harder and harder for her and she's getting more and more frustrated with us and I don't know what to do. She's my baby girl. I've called her my birth daughter for as long as I can remember (weird, I know, but whatever) because she's just... She's my baby. I've had her for literally half my life now and I'm not ready to let go but I'm scared that she is. I don't want to keep her here if she's unhappy but the idea of a world without her kills me. I don't know if I'm capable of it. I don't know what to do

[hepbaestus]

Now this story hits too close to home.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Nothing Gold can Stay - a Malevolent fic

Warning. This is angst.

Hurt, no comfort.

TW: dementia.

Things happen when we age.

Unavoidable things.

Until death do we part.

AO3

--------

Arthur’s body rose.

It still moved a little funny, and probably always would; its first occupant resisted without reason to resist because even now, with everything, he hadn’t lost his stubbornness.

Come on, Arthur. That’s it. He got the hand to raise, managed to make it grip the toothbrush.

Getting the mouth open was never easy, though.

Open up. Come on. The other hand rose and rubbed the jaw, rubbed the lips.

The eyes stared at nothing, blank, in the mirror.

John sighed. This would not be a better day.

#

An hour and a half later, Arthur sat in their quiet kitchen, bathed and dressed; his thinning gray hair was brushed back, a little longer than practical, but not really a concern.

Before Arthur steamed a bowl of stew. Arthur did not look toward it.

His hand moved, awkwardly fisted the spoon, and scooped a decent mouthful, with bits of beef and potato. Open up, Arthur. Come on.

The spoon bumped his lips. They did not move.

Come on. Doesn’t it smell good? You want it, don’t you? It’s gonna taste great. Quieter, then: Come on, Arthur. Please.

It was the please that did it, maybe, or just lucky timing; Arthur opened his mouth, and very carefully, the spoon pushed inside, the whole arm lifting at the elbow to dump its contents.

Good! Good, Arthur! The deep voice cracked; the hand rubbed his jaw lightly, trying to stimulate movement. Chew for me. Here we go. Yeah, isn’t that good? I bet it’s good. Smells really good.

Arthur chewed reflexively, paying no attention. In the glass of the oven front, he stared at nothing.

You’re doing so good today, Arthur, said John unevenly, and hefted another spoonful. Come on. Swallow that one for me. Come on.

He stopped chewing, but he hadn’t swallowed.

John made a miserable sound. Arthur. Come on. Arthur, please.

Arthur’s other hand jerked, a sudden muscle spasm, and bumped the bowl so half of it spilled onto him.

Shit!

“John?” said Arthur, and the chewed stew spilled out, all down his front.

Shit, said John, grabbing a towel, wiping. I’m here, Arthur. It’s me. Arthur?

“John, I…” Arthur’s breath came quick, shallow. “John…”

I’m here! John dropped the towel, dropped the spoon, and hugged Arthur with both arms. I’m here. I’m here.

Arthur’s breath turned to hitching, a tiny, voiceless cry. “I can’t…”

I know.

“John, I can’t… get the fog... to lift.”

I know, Arthur. I know. I’m here.

“John, I’m so sorry, I…” 

Shh. Don’t be.   I’ve got you to the end, he said, voice thick and unsteady. 

“To the… to the end,” Arthur whispered. 

Yes. I love you, Arthur. One hand rose and stroked his thinning gray hair. 

Arthur didn’t answer. He stared at nothing, no longer startled by the hot wetness of stew on his shirt. 

John knew Arthur would have said it back, if he could. No more of that nothing gold can stay crap. I’m staying. John’s voice hitched for a moment, and then he scooped up another spoonful of what remained. All the way to the end. Let’s try another bite. 

In the glass of the stove, Arthur stared at nothing, eyes unfocused, and breathed. 

-----

Notes:

Having done caretaking to the end of some family members' lives, I really feel this. I fully believe John would stay to the end, whatever it looked like.

Since Arthur lost parts of his body to John whenever his sanity suffered (as per early Malevolent), I realized that if Arthur did struggle with late-onset dementia, that would probably happen.

They'll have their little farmstead in the Dark World together, I promise.

[laz-kay]

Being a receptionist in a hospital when you have hospital/medical trauma is rough af. I've heard nothing but dementia and c*ncer stories all day, and now I want to curl up and cry about my entire family brb :')

[rebelliousfamily]

An about for my oc Finch O'Malley

Finch was born to what seemed like an ordinary couple. But, her father left when she was just a baby and Finch had been raised by her Mother. But by the time Finch reached eleven, her Mother's health had deteriorated and she had started to show signs of dementia. Finch cared for her mother, but it had all led to her developing selective mutism because of how hard it was to communicate to her mom that she was her daughter.

Her mother passed away when Finch was 18, and Finch still struggles a lot day to day. She is still selective mute but the more comfortable she is with a person then the more she is going to talk to them. But if she's having a bad mental health day she wont speak.

[ejikeabara]

The Journalist

Name: Ejike Nnamdi Abara Nickname: Eji, Nam if you're close. Birthday: June 27, 1972 Gender and pronouns: Male, he/him Sexuality: Heterosexual Birthplace: Toronto, Ontario Occupation: Semi-retired journalist Current Residence: Oak Grove, Starlight Oaks Length of stay: 1 year Three positive traits: Inquisitive, persistent, determined Three negative traits: Abrasive, hypocritical, conceited

Biography tw: parent death, dementia

Ejike was born to Nigerian diplomats Nnenne and Chidi Abara while they were stationed in Toronto. The family stayed there while Ejike was in elementary school and later moved to Ottawa when he was 13 and his parents were requested in the nation's capital. He was bullied for his "unusual" name all through school, but he didn't let that get to him and used it as fuel to well at everything he did. He was a captain of the speech and debate team, high performer in model UN, and, at the urging of his parents and English teachers, the editor of the school newspaper.

After graduation, he went on to get a Bachelor of Arts in English from University of Toronto. At the time, moving 5 hours away was all his parents would allow him to do. They had always been a close family, but there had been several (not too credible) threats to his parents lives and they wanted him close should anything happen. Bachelors complete, his parents got him a job at a well respected paper while he tried desperately to get out from under their thumbs.

Following a fight with his parents about his life, his lack of relationships, and his career, he moved to the other side of the country to get his Masters in Journalism at UBC. He was able to secure a job with AP and began a beloved career as a traveling journalist centered primarily in Africa.

He rarely spoke with his parents, instead deciding to hear how they were doing from his family in Nigeria that he was newly connecting with. It was from them that he heard his mother had died while he was covering Boko Haram. Despite having not spoken directly to his parents in almost 10 years, he flew back to Canada to attend her funeral and possibly rebuild his relationship with his father. The homecoming was strained and they struggled to bond after so long apart.

Ejike decided to relocate to NYC to be in the same timezone as his father. He still traveled often, but maintained the weekly phone calls they had agreed to. Chidi retired to Starlight Oaks a few years later, having visited several times over the years. About a year prior to his own move during one of their calls, his father mentioned he'd been feeling unwell himself and was undergoing various tests with his doctor. He was told not to worry, but having already lost one parent he couldn't pass up the opportunity to help.

He moved to Seattle and helped wherever he could. Eventually, his father was diagnosed with Dementia. Ejike went into a semi-retirement and moved into the home in Oak Grove to care for him. As his father's condition worsened, he started describing siblings he didn't have and trips they never went on. When pressed, he swore they were real and eventually he found photos to prove it: his father had had several affairs and somewhere out there he had 2 siblings.

Not long after that revelation, he received a phone call from the police while out covering a story that his father had somehow made his way to Seattle and had no recollection of how he'd gotten there. After talking with his doctor, he decided to move his father into a nursing home so he could be better monitored.

An empty home, a father in a nursing home, half siblings he'd never met, and a looming early retirement. What will he do now: go back to traveling the world to report the news or stay in Starlight Oaks and see where this leg of his life will take him? Only time will tell.

Wanted Connections

Colleagues: He's been a journalist for 25 years; there's got to be former or current journalists he knows.

Neighbors: He's only been here a year, but in that time he became close enough with the locals to ask their help in keeping an eye on his father while he's gone.

Siblings: Maybe his two half siblings got to know his father better than he did?

[halfdent]

❝   Old  bastard  don't  even  remember  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍  𝐇𝐄  𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐔𝐒  an'  you  still  dragged  yerself  t'go  visit  him  every  Birthday , every Father's Day  an'  every  Christmas  .   He  gets  to  get  off  scot-free  an'  you  won't  even  𝐏𝐔𝐓  𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒   ,  not  even  when  we  rounded  him  up  on  public  television  for  execution  ,  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐂𝐎𝐈𝐍  𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒  𝐇𝐄'𝐒  𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘  !    ❞   

❝   I  wonder  how  that  feels  to  just  ...  𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙴𝚃  𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝙶𝚄𝙸𝙻𝚃  .  𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂  𝙸𝚃  𝙰𝙻𝙻  𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝙶𝙾  𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚈 ?    That  sounds  𝚂𝙾  𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶  , 𝚂𝙾  𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃 .  It's  like  we  always  say  ;  𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈  𝙼𝙰𝙽  𝙸𝚂  𝙶𝚄𝙸𝙻𝚃𝚈  𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃 .  ❞ 

❝     𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 ! 𝐘'𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓 ! We had the chance 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 now an every time he wormed his way out he don't get t' do that ! Yer not strong enough that's why 𝙔𝙀𝙍 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝘿𝙊 𝙄𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝘼𝙃 ! 𝙔𝙀𝙍 𝘼𝙇𝙒𝘼𝙔𝙎 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿𝙀𝘿 𝙈𝙀 𝙏'𝘿𝙊 𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉' 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝘼 !  ❞ 

[thekristen999]

I made an appointment with an Eldercare consultant. A friend recommended this agency to me. This office was able to place his father in one of the faculty's on my top 4 wish list in over a month. (This place told me they had a 1-2 year wait list). It's a pretty pricey service, but they have relationships with nursing homes that I can't replicate.

It's frustrating that it's places like this that make it difficult for people like me to get my mom good care, but at this point, I'm willing to be part of the machine in order to get her somewhere closer and in a place I won't worry about her safety and to free me of the stress I've been putting myself under with being trapped in an unforgiving system.

I have my first consult about two weeks. *fingers crossed*

[ninjastormhawkkat]

“Everywhere at the End of Time” is so much more than a collection of songs — it's a cinematic-like story of experiencing loss, struggling and deteriorating down to nothing. If dementia is portrayed accurately by this album, then it's certainly one of, if not the most, terrifying thing to go through in this world.

“Everywhere at the End of Time” attempts to convey the experience of dementia through a vast six and a half hours of audio.

So basically imagine two brains losing more and more of his memories as his mouse brain ages

Oof yes🥲. That is so good and sad it fits so well.

[andromedaexists]

hhhhh i don't understand how people work

Like, maybe it's just the tism in me and the need to research shit, but like my grandma's health has gone to shit these past few years and people are still in denial. How can you be blindsided by a dementia diagnosis when she doesn't remember what an M is??

I don't understand how no one saw this coming except for me. I barely see her 3 times a year and I saw it from a mile away. Did we learn nothing from my grandpa's diagnosis and death 3 years ago???