This past Monday I took a day off. No big deal perhaps, but I haven't had a day off since New Year's Day. 7 days after 7 days after 7 days, etc. Perhaps a whole day off would have been a day without Dad, but he is here so we took him along. I said to my bride, "Hey, want to go to the river and see the eagles?" Now I know that wives don't get a day off even when they have a day off, so I was sure she would say yes. Off we all went. Dad was a little skeptical. When I said bald eagles he thought we were going to a ball game. We must have gone over that at least 10 times, no exaggeration, before he understood it wasn't a basketball game. Selective hearing or just impaired hearing. Off we set.
When Dad came to live with us we made one sad and great change. My bride stopped sitting in the front seat with me in deference to Dad. We have a bench seat so she can sit right next to me just like 30 plus years ago. But she has sat in the back until last week. On our way to church I said, "Hey, sit up front with me," and she did. Dad was relegated to the back seat. He rode in the back seat all the way for the hour and a half trip then on Monday. Occasionally he would mumble something, but we couldn't understand a word he said. My bride turned around and asked him a couple times what he said, but he couldn't remember, and that was that. We watched the eagles for 20 minutes and went to get something to eat and came home. Same scenario on the way home. We did stop in a small town where we used to live 50 years ago so he could show me the house. He couldn't remember it though, and we drove on with occasional comments from the back seat that were completely unclear and completely unremembered.
That is one reason I don't want him up front anymore. He talks a lot, but he never says much most times, not much that can be understood anyway. He does have his moments that he is as clear as anyone, but mostly he mumbles and has no idea what he has mumbled. Sadly though, he usually wants a response and that can be distracting in the car constantly asking what and getting only a mumble for an answer. The upshot, however, of the trip was that he had a really good time. So did I and so did my bride. It was great. He told his card playing buddy about it the next day and my brother about it two days later. That is a pretty good memory for a man that doesn't have one. He loved his trip. Thanks to a major winter storm that has socked our area for the past two days, I have had another day off. WOW. And more than that, I think as a result of it I will get another one off next week. Maybe we can take the traveling man somewhere else. My bride read an Alzheimer's book, "Creating Moments of Joy". We try.
One other thing about this past week was that he wanted to put puzzles together again. It has been a while since he was eager to do that. He had a 500 piece that he couldn't manage and he is not good at taking help. I was visiting some shut-ins this week and they had a 300 piece with extra large pieces. He got got the border done on it and then said it was too hard. He did let my bride help him a little and got back on track. Two of my daughters then filled in about 80 more pieces while he was gone and that motivated him to finish it. Today he did a 100 piece puzzle by himself. That kept him busy for a long time and he seemed quite satisfied to have it done. I would say that he had a very good week.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Friday, February 16, 2007
Both Sides Now
There is an old song "Both Sides Now" that came to mind as I was playing with my youngest grandson the other evening. He's just one, but he is learning things at an amazing clip. He knows where his toys are at our house, but, of course, that is a given. He has his favorite drawer in the kitchen to play in, but that is also a given. The other night his mother taught him a new little game and he caught on right away. Two times she showed him how to do something and he mastered it and played at it for quite a while. That is a young and healthy brain showing one side, an exciting side, of human development.
Then there is Dad. Every night after supper he helps my bride do the dishes. Every night. He dries and puts them away. Plates here, bowls there, cups in the other cupboard. He does have those three things down. But that is not all of the dishes. Measuring cups, serving bowls, storage items are a different story. They are used for every meal and dried after every meal. Each night he stands holding them uncertainly and my bride says, "It goes there, Dad." Each night. That is a mind effected by Alzheimer's. Unhealthy, sad, the decline of human development.
Both sides now. Young vibrant mind versus stagnant and declining mind. The contrast between the two minds, the let me explore mind versus the lead me so I know what to do mind. Each morning Dad asks, "What are we doing today?" He needs direction to function, routine to live by. Scooter (my grandson) is in a whirl to discover, to create new vistas. Scooter is the sunshine to Dad's descent. When I began this blog 15 months ago there was more sunshine to Dad's life. He still had some, but the sun has pretty much set and it is now rising in a new sector. After a long day or two with Dad's evening of life, Scooter is the joy of morning. Both Sides Now.
Just a note about Alzheimer's and the positive effect that living with us has had on Dad. His decline before moving here was precipitous. From the first noticeable appearances to his being declared incompetent was only 3 years. There are things that the medical community is finding can help delay the progress. He was on a drug for the three years before coming here. That is one way. We got that drug dosage doubled for him. That was a help. But there are other little things that keep appearing in the Alzheimer's support material. Juice for breakfast every morning instead of coffee. Very small but helpful. My bride handles his meds for him so he gets them on time and regularly. Very helpful. Daily living tasks taken off his shoulders and the frustrations of doing them also. Small and helpful. Then there is the majorly helpful. Evidence shows that living with loved ones can delay going to a nursing home for over a year. The positive socialization that comes from close friends and family is very important. Alzheimer's isolates its victims. Positive socialization helps keep the brain healthier. Nothing can cure the disease or prevent its eventual progression, but living with us has been good. Whereas a nursing home could do the meds, the daily living tasks, the juice for breakfast it can't do what a family can do. Kudos to my bride for her excellent work in giving him just a little longer sunshine in his final descent. Kudos to Scooter who runs to Dad and gives him as much unconditional attention as to anyone else for giving Dad just a little longer ray of sunshine in his descent. God made families and may we never underestimate just how important they really are.
Then there is Dad. Every night after supper he helps my bride do the dishes. Every night. He dries and puts them away. Plates here, bowls there, cups in the other cupboard. He does have those three things down. But that is not all of the dishes. Measuring cups, serving bowls, storage items are a different story. They are used for every meal and dried after every meal. Each night he stands holding them uncertainly and my bride says, "It goes there, Dad." Each night. That is a mind effected by Alzheimer's. Unhealthy, sad, the decline of human development.
Both sides now. Young vibrant mind versus stagnant and declining mind. The contrast between the two minds, the let me explore mind versus the lead me so I know what to do mind. Each morning Dad asks, "What are we doing today?" He needs direction to function, routine to live by. Scooter (my grandson) is in a whirl to discover, to create new vistas. Scooter is the sunshine to Dad's descent. When I began this blog 15 months ago there was more sunshine to Dad's life. He still had some, but the sun has pretty much set and it is now rising in a new sector. After a long day or two with Dad's evening of life, Scooter is the joy of morning. Both Sides Now.
Just a note about Alzheimer's and the positive effect that living with us has had on Dad. His decline before moving here was precipitous. From the first noticeable appearances to his being declared incompetent was only 3 years. There are things that the medical community is finding can help delay the progress. He was on a drug for the three years before coming here. That is one way. We got that drug dosage doubled for him. That was a help. But there are other little things that keep appearing in the Alzheimer's support material. Juice for breakfast every morning instead of coffee. Very small but helpful. My bride handles his meds for him so he gets them on time and regularly. Very helpful. Daily living tasks taken off his shoulders and the frustrations of doing them also. Small and helpful. Then there is the majorly helpful. Evidence shows that living with loved ones can delay going to a nursing home for over a year. The positive socialization that comes from close friends and family is very important. Alzheimer's isolates its victims. Positive socialization helps keep the brain healthier. Nothing can cure the disease or prevent its eventual progression, but living with us has been good. Whereas a nursing home could do the meds, the daily living tasks, the juice for breakfast it can't do what a family can do. Kudos to my bride for her excellent work in giving him just a little longer sunshine in his final descent. Kudos to Scooter who runs to Dad and gives him as much unconditional attention as to anyone else for giving Dad just a little longer ray of sunshine in his descent. God made families and may we never underestimate just how important they really are.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Subdued Joe the Cookie Monster
Dad went in to this week in disbelief that the center really meant that he wasn't going to play the piano three times each week anymore. They were wrong, they didn't understand, they would change their mind, he could persuade them to change their mind, he would boycott, (not his word) their center until they changed their mind, etc. He gets to play on Tuesday, so he went prepared to play and to go to war to secure his turf. He came home Tuesday night exultant. They had changed their mind and he was back on tap three days a week. I was suspicious of this change of events since they had called us and told us that wasn't true. So, I called them to find out what was up. NO, they had said nothing to him to indicate he was playing again. NO, he wasn't playing again. YES, he had made a big argument that was only ended when the director left him sitting arguing only with himself while she went and took care of center business. Her leaving the scene must have been his assurance of conquest. That or only hearing what he want to hear. For example. The conversation on her part went like this. "JOE, WE NEED TO HAVE other things that people do around here beside just YOU PLAYING THE PIANO. There are other activities that would help people be more active and involved than listening to you THREE DAYS A WEEK." Now, just read the capitalized words and you will see what he hears. It's like that around the house as well. He only hears part, analyzes part and responds to part of what is said. It is Alzheimer's accompanied by selective hearing. The selective hearing part was in effect before the Alzheimer's part.
Anyway, I told him that he must have misunderstood the director, that I was sure she had said that he was only going to play one day a week. Boy, did he blow up. Vesuvius!! I was a wrong minded blah, blah, blah. So, he went on Thursday all ready to play, and he didn't. A much more subdued Joe came home that night. If it had only been that simple. But, of course, with Dad nothing is simple. He didn't want to go if he couldn't play. He made horrible accusations against them for being terrible liars. Getting him to go back was a war. Quite honestly, he has no choice in the matter. He can't just sit in his room staring at his walls all day. My bride can't entertain him for 5 straight hours like they do at the center. Inactivity breeds auxiliary problems that become major issues themselves. For his good he must go to the center or finally enter a nursing home. For our good it is probably the latter choice only, but our good is not the only good to be considered. He has a very low opinion of nursing homes and placing him there right now would not necessarily be in his best interest. He argued that there had to be a third choice, one of his making and very vivid imagination. Do you remember all the things a child of five thought were possible. Five year old imaginations of the impossibly possible don't hold a candle to Dad. There isn't a third choice. He went back.
The Cookie Monster. My bride makes cookies every week. There aren't many people left around here to eat them with 5 of our six children grown and gone. But, the cookies disappear at a very rapid rate. No, I am not gaining weight. Yesterday we found out why. Dad is quiet as a mouse. He sneaks around and can come upon us quite suddenly and unexpectedly. Well, it seems he has been making treks into the kitchen unnoticed. He stuffed the pockets of his pants full of cookies. We mentioned it today to our daughter and she said oh, yeah, he does it all the time when we aren't around. If he just sees her in the house he will raid the cookie jar or rummage in the fridge for any sweets available. The nurse said not to worry about it as his Alzheimer's is already starting to cause weight loss and he can't process the calories he intakes. But it does answer the question of where all those cookies were going. It also demonstrates the nature of his mind. He would never raid the cookie jar or the fridge in front of an adult, but he doesn't hesitate to do so in front of one of the "other" children. Even though we don't care, it is his little way of staying in control.
Anyway, I told him that he must have misunderstood the director, that I was sure she had said that he was only going to play one day a week. Boy, did he blow up. Vesuvius!! I was a wrong minded blah, blah, blah. So, he went on Thursday all ready to play, and he didn't. A much more subdued Joe came home that night. If it had only been that simple. But, of course, with Dad nothing is simple. He didn't want to go if he couldn't play. He made horrible accusations against them for being terrible liars. Getting him to go back was a war. Quite honestly, he has no choice in the matter. He can't just sit in his room staring at his walls all day. My bride can't entertain him for 5 straight hours like they do at the center. Inactivity breeds auxiliary problems that become major issues themselves. For his good he must go to the center or finally enter a nursing home. For our good it is probably the latter choice only, but our good is not the only good to be considered. He has a very low opinion of nursing homes and placing him there right now would not necessarily be in his best interest. He argued that there had to be a third choice, one of his making and very vivid imagination. Do you remember all the things a child of five thought were possible. Five year old imaginations of the impossibly possible don't hold a candle to Dad. There isn't a third choice. He went back.
The Cookie Monster. My bride makes cookies every week. There aren't many people left around here to eat them with 5 of our six children grown and gone. But, the cookies disappear at a very rapid rate. No, I am not gaining weight. Yesterday we found out why. Dad is quiet as a mouse. He sneaks around and can come upon us quite suddenly and unexpectedly. Well, it seems he has been making treks into the kitchen unnoticed. He stuffed the pockets of his pants full of cookies. We mentioned it today to our daughter and she said oh, yeah, he does it all the time when we aren't around. If he just sees her in the house he will raid the cookie jar or rummage in the fridge for any sweets available. The nurse said not to worry about it as his Alzheimer's is already starting to cause weight loss and he can't process the calories he intakes. But it does answer the question of where all those cookies were going. It also demonstrates the nature of his mind. He would never raid the cookie jar or the fridge in front of an adult, but he doesn't hesitate to do so in front of one of the "other" children. Even though we don't care, it is his little way of staying in control.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Disappointed Joe
Dad walked with a stoop into the room yesterday afternoon. He had just come home from adult care. "How'd it go today," I asked. "Terrible, they didn't let me play the piano. I was all ready to play, but they didn't let me play. Why do you think they did that?"
That conversation went on unhappily for an hour. He threatened not to go back if they didn't let him play. He wanted to call the center right then and have it out with the director. But the bottom line got down to his real desire. He wanted to go see Dar. Everything would be OK, if he could just go see Dar. He had devised a host of ideas as to how to make it happen. None were logical or possible, but they were a sure bet in his mind. Finally I had to lay the truth on the line to him. "You have an illness that requires you to be supervised on such a trip. It's just the way it is." "NO! I am not sick, I am healed and you know it!", was his answer. It always is.
From there his disappointment grew and wandered back to not being able to play, not needing to go to the center where he wasn't wanted, not having a life. Then he went to his room. By supper he never mentioned it again. This morning he was off to the center ready to play and came home again disappointed. He didn't play again. The center sent out its new schedule today. He will play on Tuesday. He doesn't understand. He physically can't understand. He went to his room unhappy.
We took him to our daughter's house for supper tonight. It wasn't quite what he expected. My wife and I were going out alone on a preplanned outing, (getting someone to watch him isn't a spur of the moment affair) and he was going to have dinner with our daughter and her husband. As we headed for the door the disappointment registered large in his eyes. He knows he is being "babysat", and it is a situation that rankles him. Why should he, the warrior who saved the western world, need a babysitter. He can't understand and the disappointment is clear.
On the ride home he said, "So, we are going to open my checking account tomorrow, right?" What would be a good response to that? Somehow he had taken a conversation that he had originated a few days ago, to which he had been given a firm and complete negative answer, and recreated a positive answer in his own mind. "But you said", he said with great disappointment. Life hasn't rolled his way too well this week.
There is a skit that dramatizes the descent into Alzheimer's and its many disappointments very well. One person sits in a chair alone at the front. He/she is holding a bouquet of flowers. The other person comes in and says, "Mom/Dad, I have been watching you now for the past many months as you drive. You don't really watch at corners as you should. You don't always stop at stop signs as you should. You are really becoming too dangerous to yourself and others to drive anymore." Then that person takes away a flower from the bouquet and throws it on the floor and leaves. After an interval that person returns. "Mom/Dad, the bank called me again today about your account. You have overdrawn again. It was something about a check you sent to a relief agency in Africa. They showed me your records for the past few months and you have been writing a series of very strange checks and depleting your resources. I am afraid that I am going to have to use my power of attorney and take over all your banking concerns from now on." Then they take another flower from the bouquet and throw it on the floor and leave. The person with the flowers clutches the remaining ones more closely to themself. The other person returns. "Mom/Dad, I want to talk to you about last night at the restaurant. You just kept talking to strangers and making them feel uncomfortable. The poor waitress didn't know whether to laugh or run away in fear. You have been doing this a lot when we go out to eat lately. I am sorry, but we won't be able to go out and eat anymore." They take another flower from the bouquet and throw it on the floor and leave. The person in the chair looks in despair at the growing pile of discarded flowers and the hugs the remaining few. The other person returns and says, "Mom/Dad, your outburst in church this morning really disrupted the service. When the congregation is done singing, you have to be done with them. When the pastor is done saying the Lord's Prayer, you can't go on repeating it out loud. You have been doing this more and more lately and it really makes the others in the congregation feel uncomfortable. We are not going to be able to take you to church with us on Sunday mornings anymore." They take another flower and throw it on the floor and leave. The person in the chair hangs their head and lays the other two flowers idly in their lap. "Mom/Dad, I have noticed that you have been dressing quite oddly lately. When it is warm you have on three layers of heavy clothes and when it is cool you go outside without even a jacket. Your clothes don't match anymore and I am not sure they are even clean. This just isn't like you, but for your own protection, we are having an aide come in each day to get your dressed properly and make sure your clothes are clean." They take the second to last flower and throw it on the floor and leave. The last flower lays alone and untouched on the lap. The other person returns. "Mom/Dad, the aide is doing a good job, but complains that you are not cooperative. I have come to the end of my options. We are going to put you in a home today." The last flower is taken and thrown on the floor.
That conversation went on unhappily for an hour. He threatened not to go back if they didn't let him play. He wanted to call the center right then and have it out with the director. But the bottom line got down to his real desire. He wanted to go see Dar. Everything would be OK, if he could just go see Dar. He had devised a host of ideas as to how to make it happen. None were logical or possible, but they were a sure bet in his mind. Finally I had to lay the truth on the line to him. "You have an illness that requires you to be supervised on such a trip. It's just the way it is." "NO! I am not sick, I am healed and you know it!", was his answer. It always is.
From there his disappointment grew and wandered back to not being able to play, not needing to go to the center where he wasn't wanted, not having a life. Then he went to his room. By supper he never mentioned it again. This morning he was off to the center ready to play and came home again disappointed. He didn't play again. The center sent out its new schedule today. He will play on Tuesday. He doesn't understand. He physically can't understand. He went to his room unhappy.
We took him to our daughter's house for supper tonight. It wasn't quite what he expected. My wife and I were going out alone on a preplanned outing, (getting someone to watch him isn't a spur of the moment affair) and he was going to have dinner with our daughter and her husband. As we headed for the door the disappointment registered large in his eyes. He knows he is being "babysat", and it is a situation that rankles him. Why should he, the warrior who saved the western world, need a babysitter. He can't understand and the disappointment is clear.
On the ride home he said, "So, we are going to open my checking account tomorrow, right?" What would be a good response to that? Somehow he had taken a conversation that he had originated a few days ago, to which he had been given a firm and complete negative answer, and recreated a positive answer in his own mind. "But you said", he said with great disappointment. Life hasn't rolled his way too well this week.
There is a skit that dramatizes the descent into Alzheimer's and its many disappointments very well. One person sits in a chair alone at the front. He/she is holding a bouquet of flowers. The other person comes in and says, "Mom/Dad, I have been watching you now for the past many months as you drive. You don't really watch at corners as you should. You don't always stop at stop signs as you should. You are really becoming too dangerous to yourself and others to drive anymore." Then that person takes away a flower from the bouquet and throws it on the floor and leaves. After an interval that person returns. "Mom/Dad, the bank called me again today about your account. You have overdrawn again. It was something about a check you sent to a relief agency in Africa. They showed me your records for the past few months and you have been writing a series of very strange checks and depleting your resources. I am afraid that I am going to have to use my power of attorney and take over all your banking concerns from now on." Then they take another flower from the bouquet and throw it on the floor and leave. The person with the flowers clutches the remaining ones more closely to themself. The other person returns. "Mom/Dad, I want to talk to you about last night at the restaurant. You just kept talking to strangers and making them feel uncomfortable. The poor waitress didn't know whether to laugh or run away in fear. You have been doing this a lot when we go out to eat lately. I am sorry, but we won't be able to go out and eat anymore." They take another flower from the bouquet and throw it on the floor and leave. The person in the chair looks in despair at the growing pile of discarded flowers and the hugs the remaining few. The other person returns and says, "Mom/Dad, your outburst in church this morning really disrupted the service. When the congregation is done singing, you have to be done with them. When the pastor is done saying the Lord's Prayer, you can't go on repeating it out loud. You have been doing this more and more lately and it really makes the others in the congregation feel uncomfortable. We are not going to be able to take you to church with us on Sunday mornings anymore." They take another flower and throw it on the floor and leave. The person in the chair hangs their head and lays the other two flowers idly in their lap. "Mom/Dad, I have noticed that you have been dressing quite oddly lately. When it is warm you have on three layers of heavy clothes and when it is cool you go outside without even a jacket. Your clothes don't match anymore and I am not sure they are even clean. This just isn't like you, but for your own protection, we are having an aide come in each day to get your dressed properly and make sure your clothes are clean." They take the second to last flower and throw it on the floor and leave. The last flower lays alone and untouched on the lap. The other person returns. "Mom/Dad, the aide is doing a good job, but complains that you are not cooperative. I have come to the end of my options. We are going to put you in a home today." The last flower is taken and thrown on the floor.
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