I had an interesting dream the other night. I was riding a bike with my Mom on the back of the bike. We were coming down and hill and when I went to apply the brakes, I realized they weren’t working. We were heading towards and intersection so I put my feet on the ground, dragging them trying to slow down. I told my Mom to hold on, we were going to have to tip the bike to avoid the intersection. The bike was tipped and my Mom was screaming at me asking me how I could do that to her. Then (still in my dream), my husband rode over and asked if all was ok. I told him what happened and when we looked at the bike, we realized the brake line had been disconnected. Then my mother chimed in stating that she had disconnected them.
No dream crazy dream interpretation needed. This is how my life is. Me dragging my feet trying to slow down what is happening. My mother constantly sabotaging her treatment and care. Her yelling, me bringing her along. Tipping which ever way we need to so we can understand and get things done. The helplessness we both feel. The control we both crave for. When I told my husband Graham of my dream he laughed. Not much of a dream if its what happens in everyday life!
Mom's Gonna Snap 
I am a fellow dreamer – this is a poem I wrote on just the subject of dreams and dementia:
Traumlogik
I have always had quite crazy dreams,
And I find them quite disturbing,
But the ones that bother me the most,
Are the ones that are recurring…
I dream I’m in my teenage home,
And there behind my wardrobe door,
Is another door I didn’t know was there,
Full of childhood toys from before…
I dream I am in the school toilets,
For a pre A-Level panic wee,
But have forgot all my revision,
And don’t know where my notes could be…
I dream that I’ve somehow omitted,
To take the last year of my degree,
Didn’t really get that First from Cambridge,
No passing grade at all, actually…
I dream I’m backpacking again,
And swimming in the sea,
And with a strange sense of fatalism,
See a tsunami heading straight for me…
I dream that I’m at my first office job,
Then from out of the window see,
A jumbo jet come crashing down,
Each time closer still to me…
I dream I live in Europe again,
My luck cannot believe,
Then realise husband is back in England,
And am so sad I have to leave…
Each dream feels so real each time,
I’d swear that it were true,
I’m in my past but each time with,
Its own set of strange “dream logic” rules…
Maybe that’s what Alzheimer’s is like,
In your own past somehow stuck,
An ever looping living nightmare,
From which you can’t wake up…
Beautiful!