Oh how I agree with you.
After 12 years, battling with this dreadful disease, my darling husband died on the 23rd December, last year. His birthday was just 2 days later, Christmas Day. We met just 2 days before, 21st December 1966, and I'm finding myself dreading the coming week, unable to sleep, sobbing all the time, and drowning in guilt.
I'm the one who's always telling others that they're doing their best, and they have nothing to feel guilty about. What a hypocrite! I feel so guilty for being irritated by the constant repetitive questions and actions to which you refer, but was absolutely exhausted by it all.
But I'd willingly give my own life, just to hear him say, one more time, "is it Thursday today?", which was his favourite question, and must have been repeated hundreds of times each day, day in, day out, for years.
It wasn't Heaven, caring for someone you love who has Alzheimer's, but it surely is Hell without them.