It rings at seven. Then at eleven. Then at three. Then at six, and again at nine. Always the same sentence: "come and get me", or "they didn't give me any tea", or "someone's taken my handbag".
And at some point the thing you will not admit to anyone happens: you start dreading your own phone. You see her name come up and you do not answer. And then the guilt keeps you awake.
This page explains what is actually happening, and gives you something that works.
1. The thing to understand before anything else
She is not harassing you. She does not remember calling.
In dementia, recent memory goes first. Every call is, to her, the first call. She is not persisting: she is calling now, for the first time, with the same distress she felt half an hour ago and does not know she has already felt.
That single sentence changes everything. You are not being emotionally manipulated — you are watching a memory reset. And your exhaustion is still legitimate; the two do not cancel out.
2. What she is actually asking for
Almost never the content of the call.
- anxiety, which in dementia comes out as a demand for contact;
- disorientation: she does not know the time, the day, or when she will see you;
- a particular time of day. If the calls cluster after five, that is sundowning — the same late-afternoon agitation the staff see on the floor;
- the need to hear a familiar voice and check she has not been forgotten.
Keep a note for a week: time, what she said, what had just happened. A pattern almost always appears — and a pattern can be worked with, chaos cannot.
3. Three answers that make it worse
Correcting her with facts. "Mum, you've already rung three times." To her that is untrue, so what lands is: *I am a nuisance, and you are telling me off.*
Long calls. The longer you talk, the more activated she becomes, and the sooner she rings back. Short, frequent calls settle; long ones stir up.
Promising to visit. "I'll come tomorrow", said to end the call, is the worst of the three.
4. What actually works
Predictability beats availability. One short call, always at the same time, made by you, reduces the calls more than ten scattered answers.
A fixed script, the same every time: "Hi Mum, it's me. I'm good, everything's fine. Today I did X. Thinking of you. I'll see you Thursday and I'll bring the peaches."
Always end with a specific appointment, not "talk soon".
Validate the feeling, not the content. "You feel on your own. I know. It's hard."
Tell the staff, and ask for it to go in the care plan: "my mother phones compulsively between 5 and 8; please assess what is happening in that window." You can ask for a case conference rather than waiting for the scheduled review. Where dementia is driving the distress, Dementia Support Australia can be brought in free — ask whether they have been engaged.
5. The accusations: "they took my handbag", "they don't feed me"
Here you have to do the hardest thing: hold two possibilities open at once.
Sometimes it is confabulation — the brain fills a gap in memory with a plausible explanation. The handbag has not gone: it is in the wardrobe, and she does not remember putting it there. It is not lying, and it is not malice.
And sometimes it is true. Things do go missing in aged care, and meals do get missed.
The rule that holds both
- never argue;
- check quietly whatever is checkable. The handbag: look in the wardrobe. The food: ask for the intake record, and visit at lunchtime, unannounced;
- if it stands up, it was not confabulation, and that is a different matter — theft and neglect are reportable, including under SIRS;
- if it does not, answer the feeling: "That gave you a fright. Let's have a look together."
6. The phone itself
Sooner or later somebody will suggest taking it away. Think twice.
The phone is her link to the world, and the Charter of Aged Care Rights protects her right to have control over and make decisions about her own life, and to maintain her relationships. Cutting off contact to keep someone settled edges towards a restrictive practice — which requires assessment, documented alternatives and informed consent. It is not something to arrange quietly between family and staff.
Alternatives that work better
- a simple phone with photo buttons;
- a clock showing the day and date clearly in her room;
- a large sheet by the phone: "Today is Tuesday. Anne is coming Thursday.";
- voicemail with your voice on it.
7. Protecting yourself
You are not obligated to answer every call. Two short, calm calls a day beat twenty tense ones.
Decide a window and tell the home: "I answer between six and seven; if something important happens, you call me." OPAN (1800 700 600) can help you have that conversation with the provider.
8. When the calls mean something is wrong
- they start abruptly: look for a medical cause, starting with a urinary tract infection or pain;
- the content changes and fear of one particular person appears;
- they coincide with a particular shift;
- they come with weight loss, bruises, or new drowsiness.
Then the subject is not the phone. It is what happens when she hangs up — and that goes to the provider in writing, and to the Aged Care Quality and Safety Commission (1800 951 822) if the answer is thin.
Curalune Care Help (A$109) puts together, usually within 24 business hours, a shortlist of 3 to 5 homes matched to her area and care needs — with contacts and the questions to ask about memory support and late-afternoon agitation.
*General information, not medical advice. Admission, fees and availability are always confirmed by the providers and the responsible bodies.*