The Scourge of Helpfulness

There is an old story that goes: You can tell the difference between old age and Alzheimer's Disease. In old age you forget where you put your glasses. In Alzheimer's you forget you wear glasses!

This morning Gregory came into the bedroom. Something is wrong. He had been trying to take his morning pills in the kitchen but his glass of water was in the bedroom. Sometimes, when I am in the kitchen with him, I remind, "Your water is in the bedroom." Sometimes this helps, other times it doesn't. Other times I walk him into the bedroom and point at the water. Sometimes this helps, other times it doesn't. Still other times I take him over to the nightstand and hand him his water. Still yet other times I bring the water into the kitchen to avoid all this confusion. Either way, he does not associate having a glass of water with part of the process of taking his pills. At least not all of the time and now-a-days less and less.

Next he was at his table in the living room (which he cannot associate by name as in "Please go put this on your table.") fumbling with his reading glasses. He put them on his glass case, then next to his glass case, then under his glass case. I helped, "Put them IN your glass case." Didn't help so I backed out. This upset him so I explained, "No problem ... I tried to help but it didn't help so I backed off ... No harm done ... No babies are dying ... I love you ... That is all that matters." To which he replied, "OK."

When he sat down to read the newspaper, I realized the problem. He had some vague idea that he needed his reading glasses to read the newspaper but didn't connect the pieces, i.e. get glasses, sit down in front of your newspaper, put glasses on, read the newspaper. Instead, after the previous short circuit, he just sat in front of the newspaper confused. Again, I tried to help. I asked, "Can you read the newspaper?" "What?" "Can you see the newspaper?" "What do you mean?" So I went over and got his glasses and handed them to him. "Yes, I was going to get my glasses," he replied. OK.

Now how to handle all of this may seem obvious to you. And what I should have said, or not said, may be what you are thinking about. And I too, in looking back, realize several different ways I could of handled this. And maybe next time I will be able to handle it differently. At least this time I didn't get angry, or rude, or short, or impatient. But also I wasn't helpful. I also realize that no matter what I do, being helpful most often backfires on me.

And don't judge until you are the one trying to figure out how to go about ANYTHING with a person who is fairly advanced in Alzheimer's.

A final example. This morning he got his undershirt and underpants on correctly but had his sweatshirt on backwards. He realized this and corrected it. Next he got his sweatpants on backwards and corrected it three times only to have them on backward again. I helped, "You keep putting them on the same way. Try turning them around." So he held the pants up in front of himself and turned around. Not the pants but rather his body. Then holding the pants in front of him (oriented incorrectly) he walked forward and then backward and did this two more times. I got up and using his hands, slowly helped him to turn the pants around the correct way, in my mind trying to demonstrate the process. "Now try them on I suggested." He did, they were on the right way, but I don't think he really understood what had happened.

Somehow, I keep going.