Let’s look at what being confused is really like. I think we often feel that it’s a pleasant state or, if not quite pleasant, a not-unpleasant one. You look around, and things don’t make sense, but you know, who cares: It’s all good.
In this assessment, confusion is confused with the “no worties” state of mind.
Those whom dementia confuses aren’t enjoying some form of just being out of it.
It’s not an exotic trip on a magic mushroom.
It’s decidely not fun and games. It isn’t a voluntary experiment.
Confusion is not knowing where you are, who is with you, or even sometimes who you are.
The confused are disoriented and frightened. Anxiety is a constant companion.
Mid-conversation about getting something to eat, Burt says, “Now you’re scaring me.” I don’t think he’s enjoying his confusion.
this is our life 