FOR GREGORY. He was not a VICTIM of ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE, he was a HERO!

PLEASE NOTE: Even though this blog is now dormant there are many useful, insightful posts. Scroll back from the end or forward from the beginning. Also, check out my writer's blog. Periodically I will add posts here if they provide additional information about living well with Dementia / Alzheimer's Disease.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

A Tough One

This is going to be a tough one to write. My life is dramatically changing. Even as we speak I do not know for sure how to proceed. I do have alternatives available to me but all of them involve difficult choices.

Mexico was difficult for both Gregory and me. Gregory because he was disoriented most of the time. Me because I was "on duty" 24/7. Simple things like getting dressed or undressed caused him difficulties. My support often caused more confusion on his part. Did I hear you say HELPLESS? Yes, both of us. He helpless with what to do next. Me helpless with how to help.

While I am not ready to admit it, I think that Mexico might have been our last major trip. I fantasize about Europe (Paris, Italy, The Netherlands, England, Scotland.) I dream about a driving trip through the eastern U.S. to see the sights and to visit family and friends. A river cruse down one of the many great rivers of the world could be exciting. We watch Rick Steves and other travel programs and imagine. But I am not yet ready to admit that these might only be fantasies.

Gregory's re-entry after Mexico has been very slow. Re-entry you would think should be easier since it is back at home and routine and the familiar. But for some reason it usually is worse than when we were away. This time it is taking longer and many of the previous cognitive and self-help skills have not returned.

About a week or so ago, I felt like my life as I know it had changed. Gregory went to return the condo grocery cart to the lobby after we had brought the groceries to our unit. He has been doing this for the last five years since we moved in. Somehow this time he ended up on the 9th floor and didn't think to call me for help. He religiously carries his cell phone but I begin to suspect that he doesn't know how to use to make an outgoing call. He didn't know how to get back on the elevator to go to the lobby. I suspect that he got on the elevator on our floor and by the time he figured out which button to push, the elevator recording began "yelling" at him to select a floor and then the elevator just took off to someone else who was calling for it. He got off when it next stopped.

I called him after I thought he had been gone too long, found out where he was and went to fetch him. I gently asked if he could tell me what happened and of course he couldn't. I didn't press it but I cannot explain the weight I felt on my proverbial shoulders. I felt like our life would never be the same. Yes I can take the cart back but that was one of the last shreds of assistance he was able to give me. And the fact that he "got lost" in the building freaked me. Since then I have been afraid to let him and he hasn't asked to go on his usual long walks. He doesn't go swimming anymore. He sits and stares more and more. He "shadows" me when I am working around the unit or at my computer. He gets bored because he doesn't have anything to do but on the other hand, he can't do much.

I guess I will begin to go on walks with him now that the weather is nice and will take him swimming. But that means my life is on hold. I have begun the process of trying to find him a "companion" who can relieve me some of the time but that takes advance planning, scheduling, money, trusting another person, etc. It is a necessary thing to do but one that I am not ready for!

Since his getting lost, things seemed to be running a little smoother. I was able to get away for an hour to go to my Weight Watchers meeting last week. This week it didn't work. He wanted to sleep in. I made sure he knew where I was going and that I would be back in an hour or so. I left at 9:00 and when I got back at 10:15 or so he was still in bed. He asked, "Why have you been gone so long?" I asked "Why are you still in bed?" He replied, "I was afraid."

I had assumed that he would get up when ready and begin his breakfast. He usually starts off with a piece of toast or a muffin. I left his "placemat aide" (which pictures his breakfast choices) out for Tuesday breakfast. The assumptions I can make continue to be fewer and fewer and change from day to day.

So how can I go to my WW meetings? How can I go to Michael's Museum for a morning? How will I ever be able to be in an Opera again? How can I leave him in bed "being afraid?" I guess I am waiting for the aftershock of these changes to settle down so I can begin to investigate what options are available to me/us. Hopefully I will find the companion to be here but honestly, I am not ready for that level of his being dependent on me. What choice do I have?

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