When my MIL quit cooking and expected dinner on the table at 430 (the time I got off of work) she really started to get ugly and demanding. I absolutely hated logging out for the night. Hang in there. When one wants to show someone, who has this terrible disease, some compassion, it can be so difficult. I could not tell you many times I was scratched and pitched. She even tried to stab in the eyes. Cruel disease.