Dealing with the Future
we know what lies ahead, we can only hope they don't
J. has worked as a volunteer overseas as an office administrator and Samaritan-like 24/7 telephone support with mentally ill people, including some with Alzheimer's. She has known what she faces since the first, tentative diagnosis.
I am learning to let the verbal anger pass me by (not easy since I have a short, reactive fuse). As for many, the pleas on - Why has this happened to me/us? How can you care for me much longer at home? You won't put me into a home, will you? I am nothing now I can no longer write, read, paint or embroider; Why can I walk miles in the hills and swim for an hour and look in rude good health but I cannot dress or shower or do anything in the house or garden?
etc. etc. etc. - are much, much harder to bear.
We have our stock phrases for dealing with the frustrations and concerns - "It's not you, its that wretched Dr. Alzheimer messing up the little grey cells" is a favourite; we let the tears flow - often together; we are touching on the great taboo of a Care Home but that is like dynamite; we have long since known and written down what each of us wants (Living Will; Funeral Service directions) and talked with the appropriate people.
These things all help; they provide a basement floor. The hell is
we do not know the route
we will take to the end nor the timing;
we only know it will be hellish.
The challenge is to ensure this does not stop us finding the fun in each day, each hour. Today's fun was lunch at a new (for us) restaurant. What J. did not see was the look of shock on the waitresses' face when I had to answer a simple question for her about a sauce. I must have a reputation in that restaurant as a real male chauvinist ... J. had no idea what the question meant. All part of the "richness" that is life with Alzheimer's for sufferer and carer.