Processing

I heard someone (tv? radio? side conversation?) say they use writing to process. I guess that is what I am doing. I am hoping the "processing" is going to rid me of my shortcomings and help me maintain my patience and manners. It is still the little things that seem to strain me the most. It is like my home is not the place of respite and comfort that it always has been. However, Nana deserves to be around her family, so we keep trying.
DH and I still have evening conversations as our heads are on the pillows, often reflecting on the little things Nana does, why some are funny, and what we think we can do to minimize major issues we see. The biggest issue currently is Nan's refusal to clean herself. She has allowed me to wash her hair--twice, but refused more times. I've sort of tricked her into changing her clothes a few times. But, man oh man, there is starting to be quite the stank. She, of course, reports out that she washed up or even took a tub yesterday, last night or this morning. Nope, never happened.
I've been reading a lot about AD and dementia. I am very concerned that her frustrations with losing her independence and losing some of the last vestiges of her personal dignity will make any hygiene battle an ugly affair. I read something to the point that it is very rare to die of being a little dirty, and causing major melt-downs over this may not be worth it. A dementia patient with some lucidity doesn't want to be treated like they are a baby. Already, Nan's worst moments are when she has to be redirected or asked not to do something.
It is just so different. Nan used to have a public face in the community. She took great care in her appearance; the make-up and perfume was always applied; her acquaintances and friends might be appalled at her condition. The nana of today and ten years ago are so vastly different.
So what do we do? On a good morning, I can get some clean skivvies and clothes into the bathroom and remind her to get out of her "chore clothes" and into the clean ones ready for her. The washing items are left out for her, but she does not avail herself of them. When she is laughing and being a wise guy, we can josh about the arm pit smell from being so busy working. By the time she makes it to the bathroom, she's forgotten what she went there to do. If I remind her one too many times, she gets persnickety and loses her good humor. Nan does not like to be told what to do or not do! On the couple of occasions she's had a bout of the trots, she will do a clean up on her nether region. I don't think it is appropriate to wait around for the next round of tummy distress! Do we get a home health care worker in--a stranger to help with the most intimate of care?