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.

Showing posts with label Normalcy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Normalcy. Show all posts

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Question About Depression From Blog Reader

Can I ask if depression was part of Gregorys realm early on when he understood what he was facing? Depression has been a huge barrier for A. He's on medication and we have a new psychotherapist and with the weather improving exercise will be a help. I'm just wondering if you have any other ideas on how to keep spirits lifted and positive.
a few seconds ago
Gregory was somewhat lucky in that the Alzheimer's provided a barrier between the disease and his understanding of what was happening to him. Greg has always been a calm, easy going, relaxed, positive person so I think that helped. Friends would ask how things were going and Gregory would reply, "It has been going very well." I, on the other hand, knew that things were getting worse. Gregory just didn't see or know. At times he was aware of his losses but he knew he could trust me, I never made him feel "less than" or diminished and I always kept upbeat, optimistic, and hopeful in front of him. I learned how to cry myself to sleep without waking him. I also couldn't really discuss the changes with him because he was not aware of them and I did not want to burden him with my dealings. That is when I turned to the computer to process, get closure, write about what I was feeling. I would recommend more attention to DRUGS and making sure you get the best balance. They have helped Gregory at Lieberman when he became frustrated, angry, and resistive again. Getting the right balance was difficult, between drugged and sleepy and alert and present, but they are doing really well now. The staff keeps an eye on that with me. I worked very hard at trying to keep our life and our home as "normal" as possible and that meant changing, redefining, revising, and keeping on keeping on no matter how down I might have felt inside. We went out to eat, to the show, to the opera, hosted parties, socialized ... with me continuing to increase my role in helping him be successful in those situations. Hope my talking "around" the topic has helped.

Monday, May 12, 2014

An E-Mail Reply

From niece MB (daughter of Al, Greg's oldest brother:) 
I have been concerned about you since Gregory has moved into his new home. I know they are taking care of him. That will give you time to make adjustments to your life.

Thanks for the kind words. I am doing well. We have been struggling with this for over ten years and the major difference, now that Gregory is in the advanced stages of the disease, is that the concerns, needs, and ability to define new normalcies have been narrowed. 

For the most part the routines and normalcies for Gregory are now predictable whereas during the early parts of his disease, it was a baseball game without rules!

As for my living alone, our relationship was always one of parallel growth. We both had the same interests and friends but maintained our individual interests and friends, and of course the two overlapped at points. So while I have to redefine my new life living alone, I do not have to redefine my life or identity entirely. 

I have had to learn to live in the present moment, as Gregory does, and to see life through his eyes. When I am able to do that, I am happy and content. When I begin to see his life through my eyes, I have more difficulties avoiding crying and grief.

Not sure if there will be a price in the future, but for now I have been separating myself into two parts. When I am by myself and at home I try not to think of Gregory and our past 39 years and when I am with him I try not to think about home and my life and our past 39 years. 

Some Buddhist monks spend a lifetime learning how to live in the here and now, without living in the past or the future. Both Gregory and I have been able to do that. He because of the Alzheimer's me because of my great love for him.

At home I'll keep busy with friends, keeping the condo up, writing, etc but when I am with Gregory, sometimes we just sit and hold hands and that is paradise and enough.

In the beginning it was difficult learning how to let go and become the Secondary Care Giver with The Lieberman Center (and their trained, knowledgable staff) being the Primary Care Giver. 

I am still Gregory's advocate but have begun to know how to choose my "battles." The staff at Lieberman actually listen to and hear what I say, try to accommodate my suggestions and Gregory's needs, but also help educate me when I am out of order or unrealistic in my goals for him.

Gregory's CONDITION is much worse and continues to worsen but his SITUATION is so much better ... so my heart is light.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Retro Normalcy

Besides keeping Gregory safe and happy, I feel my most important role as life partner and caregiver partner is to maintain, for both Gregory and myself, as much of a sense of normalcy as possible. That means daily routines, life skills, meals, entertainment, interactions, social relationships, sense of home, etc.

But I have come to realize that the "normalcy factor" shifts as quickly and as erratically as Gregory's Alzheimer's shifts. What was normal last week, yesterday, earlier today is not necessarily normal this week, today, now.

This realization adds a new understanding of my role and while it doesn't make it any easier, it does create a validity to the roller coaster of my emotions, difficulties of day to day interactions, and sometimes impossibility of providing for Gregory.

P.S. I have recently become Gregory's Bowel Movement Coach. I'll let you decide what that involves but lets just say that I hope it is only the very, very beginning of Gregory's incontinence. Coaching is much easier than changing the whole ball game of bath rooming.


Wednesday, January 30, 2013

A Reply to the Reply

B,

Hi. Thanks for the speedy reply. I am not really depressed or anxious so at least for now do not feel the need for drugs, although not opposed. I do get down time, have a wonderful therapist that I spend time with every week, and have many supportive friends in the area. I am sleeping well, Gregory is not wandering or violent or angry and knows me and our home and our family and friends (even though he might not be able to call them by name.) He is happy and contented and often tells me so.

The problem is trying to keep some sense of normalcy around here when I never know how he will respond or what he will remember or how much he will understand. For example, I can lay out his clothes, no problem, but then he gets more out of the closet, doesn't know how to put them on, or forgets some combination of them. Even when he comes to me for help, short of sitting him down "old people's home style" and dressing him, he cannot follow simple directions, or pointing, or demonstrating. So helping is NO help. That is really what frustrates me. 

Also, I am learning to follow that he does not always mean what he says, like when I ask "Are your pockets filled?" (wallet, keys, etc) and he says NO but they are. Or I'll tell him to go to the bathroom right before we are leaving and he will say OK but if I don't see him do it, chances are he doesn't and then as we are walking out the door he'll say, "Oh I need to go to the bathroom." 

Honestly don't know what I would do with a companion here 6 days a week. Maybe if we had a larger place, they could be getting dressed while I was in my office or whatever. But it is an intimate condo. When the companions are here I will make a play date with friends, or go shopping, or just be somewhere by myself and work on my poetry at the local Starbucks, or go out to lunch, or go on an adventure. I have a massage once or twice a month. A few times when the weather was still nice, G and the companion would go out and I would stay home by myself which was nice. 

It is the day to day that seems to make me nuts. Like asking him to fill the water pitcher before dinner and sometimes he can do it and other times he cannot. If I try to help, that only complicates and confuses him further so I just hold back and let him struggle, which is very difficult for me and him. I often tell him, "It is a question of feel bad now or feel bad later." 

Instead of accepting it gracefully and calmly I find anger and "hate" in my heart and I know it shows in my voice and gestures. Sometimes he will say something which uses the best words he can get out but it will be insulting or demeaning. I still react to the words used instead of the hidden intent. Even though I am becomming more and more aware of the fact that he can use any words is a blessing and I don't always reinterpret or translate them into a positive, understanding statement before my emotions kick in and I get angry with him and have hurt feelings.

In summary, what is really getting to me is that in the day to day functioning of our (my) live, NOTHING IS WHAT IT SEEMS!

P.S. I am using these correspondences on my blog because I feel they are valuable to my readers. Names are changed to protect the innocent:-)

Fondly,
Michael

P.P.S.S. We are going to Battle Creed to visit G's family this weekend. I'll send them your love.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Thoughts on a life.


Thoughts on a Life

Perhaps my success is that I have been able to create for Gregory, a life in which he can truly live in the moment, in which his now and his world are all that matter. 

I have organized our life fully and carefully. This gives Gregory a certain sense of consistency  and control and allows me to make sure that what needs to be done gets done, especially because I am the one who has to do it ... all. It allows him to enjoy his life day to day without having to worry about any details.

The purpose of this essay is not to brag about how much I do, to say look at me, but rather to show you what must go on so that Gregory can live in his moment. How often have you stopped to think about all the things you do to run your life and that of your loved ones? These thoughts on what it takes for us are mine, shared.

Gregory wakes up, cleans up, and puts on his morning "Sweats" which I laid out the night before. He has breakfast, which I assemble and put on a tray, including cereal with bran buds, fruit, and soy milk; a glass of orange juice; yogurt; a mug of tea; a few prunes, apricots, and dates; a handful of assorted raw nuts; and on alternating days - sausage, Canadian bacon, or tinned fish on crackers. On the days he can, he cleans up after breakfast but usually leaves several things on the counter, not knowing where they go. On the days he cannot, I take over.

Then Gregory sits at his desk spending several hours with the New York Times, which I have arranged to be delivered every day. My idea to do this was successfully based on the fact that Gregory still reads, likes his news, but is no longer able to navigate his computer (we used to get the newspaper on-line.) I kidding call this concept "using a brand new technology" since we have never had a newspaper delivered to our door before this."

Some days Gregory can select what he wants to wear, other days I have to help. He is not easily able to relate a temperature number to the season to what kind of clothing to put on. Sometimes I have to notice that his underwear is on backwards. Sometimes he attempts to put on two pair of jeans so I help him through. Often he forgets his belt which confuses him about where to hook his cell phone and keys.

So far he can still make a large salad for his lunch. I help when he gets confused and on some days clean up after him. Often we plan a lunch out around our errands. He always goes with me because I cannot leave him home by himself any more but also because we continue to enjoy each other's company. I decide what he will order as well as what I will order for lunch (same for dinner out for that matter.) I used to ask: "Do you feel like having meat, chicken, or fish tonight?" That no longer works so I just decide. Usually he "goes on" about what a good choice I made and that makes me feel good.

Recently I put together a process for "interviewing, letter of applicationing, background checking, and letter of agreementing" a Companion to spend time with Gregory. I created a process for this with which I was comfortable and which insured the Companion's, Gregory's and my "rights and responsibilities." Part of this includes a brief history of Gregory's dealing with Alzheimer's, what the Companion might encounter, and how to deal with it.

I currently have two college students acting as Companion, each of whom spends 4-8 hours a week with Gregory. This enables me to get out for a meeting or appointment when I have to leave Gregory home alone but also gives me some free time away from my 24/7 responsibilities, just to be able to go out and "play" by myself or with friends.

The interesting part about having a Companion is that I feel like a mother with a young child having to add to my "duties" scheduling, planning, thinking ahead, dealing with actual and potential Companion late arrivals, illness, cancellations. But it has been working well and Gregory has been enjoying the company of "young blood" which provides a different environment for him than having me around 24/7. So this seems to be working well for both of us.

I plan and prepare dinners at home, set the table, serve the food, dress and salt and sauce whats needs dressing, salting, and saucing. I turn on the music we always have at dinner, deciding Chopin, Beethoven, or Sting. After dinner I clean up, sometimes Gregory will dry, I put things away, wipe and "daily spray" the granite counter.

He will ask, "Can we have a little something?" referring to watching a saved TV show, or a NETFLIX movie. I decide what we will watch and run the TV/DVD controls. I make the popcorn or cut up some fruit to have during intermission. After watching a DVD, I put it back in its envelope returning it to sender.

I select an assortment of chocolates for him to have at bedtime. He loves his chocolates! I suggest when it is time to take a shower. I put out new towels when needed. I point out toothbrush and toothpaste when he gets confused over their use or location. I remind him to put on body lotion and help with the parts he cannot reach. I apply the cortisone treated tape to a few areas on his hand and leg that have begun to show psoriasis.

We turn down the bed together after I have brought our water glasses in from the TV room and put his nighttime meds in a small bowl on his night table as well as putting tomorrows out on the kitchen counter. I pull down the shades, turn off the lights, check the thermostat, make sure the front door is locked, and set the alarm (to wake me in the event of his wandering in the middle of the night.)

We read for a while and then lights out. Sometimes he can figure out how "on/off" works and other times I have to pop out of my side of the bed to go over and turn off his lights. The nice ending to every night is that we fall asleep together holding hands.

Of a day, bills are received, reviewed, and paid. Mail is collected, sorted, and handled. Same with e-mail. Birthdays are remembered as are important anniversaries of family and friends. Great nieces and nephews and God-Children are gifted on their birthdays, at Christmas, on graduation, at confirmation, when bar (or bat) mitzvahed, and eventually will also be gifted if they choose to marry and have children.

Household equipment is maintained, serviced, repaired. Walls are washed, erased, or touched up with paint. Clocks, thermostats, and timers set. Laundry sorted, washed, dryed, folded (sometimes Gregogry helps with the folding but I have to double check because he mixes up the variously sized underwear and sox.) Our housekeeper is instructed, directed, and at times corrected (we are grateful for her help.)

Refrigerator, pantry, and larder are stocked and a running list created so everything needed is remembered. When one thing is used up, another is in waiting, and when taken off the shelf has its name added to the running shopping list. Meals are planned executed and eaten. Dishes are set, cleared, washed, and stored.

Friends are e-mailed, telephoned, chatted with, entertained, joined for dinners out. Parties are planned, invitations sent, R.S.V.P.s received, menus planned, food purchased and prepared, buffets set, food replenished, drinks poured, dessert served, clean up accomplished. When we get together with friends, I tell my stories and I tell Gregory's stories. He enjoys hearing his stories told since he cannot manipulate the words to tell them himself.

A pair of reading glasses has been located in each room, labeled for ease of redistribution when Gregory inadvertently looses or moves them around, and new bedtime books selected when he needs a new one.

Doctor appointments are made, symptoms checked out, lotions applied, cuts covered, bruises watched. Dentist cleanings, eye examinations, skin doctor, neurologist appointments made, driven to. Information is discussed with doctor, results listened to, actions for the future remembered and taken as needed.

Again, the purpose of this essay is not to brag about how much I do, to say look at me, but rather to show you what must go on so that Gregory can live in his moment.

•  •  •  •  •

When he wonders about later today or tomorrow, he asks as well as he can (language difficulties considered,) and I tell him again our plans. He will reply with "Oh Goodie" or the like. Often he asks again or is surprised when the plans take place. This periodic wondering seems to be enough for him when it comes to regarding the future.

The past comes up now and then. It is a little more complicated as usually it causes a guessing game about what he is trying to remember. After thirty five years of living with and knowing him, we usually are successful in remembering. Sometimes, not!

Perhaps my success is that I have been able to create for Gregory a life in which he can truly live in the moment in which his now and his world are all that matter. The problems and confusion of dealing with Alzheimer's Disease/Dementia arise when I ask him to live in my world or our world. Sometimes he tries to live in our world and then stumbles, feels confused, and sometimes gets frustrated when he realizes that he is no longer able to do so. I am continuing to learn how to avoid this but am not always successful. I am continuing to learn how to live in his world but am not always successful.

Things he knew how to do yesterday, he does not necessarily know today, and may or may not remember tomorrow. I never know what to say or not say, to ask or not ask, to wonder or not wonder. I never know if he understands what I mean when I ask him to help me with something. Using words like above, below, in, out, over, under, etc are a crap shoot. As mentioned in a previous post, I do not know which is worse: when he doesn't understand something or when he thinks he understands something. 

Life continues to be a thin, thin line between trying as much as possible to live our life as normally as possible ... or better ...  to help him live his life as it is normal to him. Life continues to be a thin, thin line between treating him like a five year old while at the same time respecting him as the 64 year old adult he is. He senses the difference and when I am able to do so successfully he doesn't mind. When I am a little impatient, he gets a little short with me. Can you blame him?

Every night before he goes to bed, he recites aloud the three words he read in a poem and had me print on a post it to put on the side of his night table drawer: Simplicity, Patience, Compassion. As I hear his repeating his mantra, I recommit myself to being as good of a caregiver partner as I possibly can be.

What I wonder is: "Will I ever again be able to live in the moment in which my now and my world is all that matters?" I dread and yearn for that time!




Friday, June 8, 2012

Normalcy

How can I describe what it is like to live with someone who has Alzheimer's Disease or any dementia for that matter. I have tried many ways to talk about what I go through on a daily if not hourly basis. I have used metaphor, description, poetry, humor, and tears to try to share with you what it is like. Here is my latest attempt:

Living with and loving someone who has Alzheimer's
Is like orchestrating an improvisational dance with normalcy.
No music, no planned steps, no assigned leading partner.
Not being able to anticipate turns or circling or dips or bends.
Redefining normalcy by the moment.
For him not for me is the key but
My living in his world, makes no sense to either of us!