The Fog Sets In

Some of these warm November nights cause quite a bit of fog to rise from the many lakes and rivers around our community. As you get close to these bodies of water you can see the fog rising and obscuring the roads and bridges that pass by them. Similarly, you can see the fog rising in Dad's mind. Slowly it sends up curling tendrils that look so pleasant, then, wham, the bridge is out. There is nowhere that the mind can go. It wanders, confused, sometimes coming out the other side without mishap, and sometimes careening over the edge of the roadway and into the swamp of greater disorder.

Dad's mind lately has come through the fog successfully less often and gone over the edge more often. Due to some very complex family situations, his wife is in a nursing home in another state and he is not allowed to see her. This is not due to any ill behavior on his part, just part of the greater mess that broadly extended families can encounter. She too has advanced Alzheimer's disease and was increasingly confused at his presence. He has not seen her now for over one and a half years. Now, try to think like an Alzheimer's patient. Out of sight . . . out of ______.

He came to the conclusion several months ago that she had died. On the upside he stopped grieving over not being able to see her. But, there has turned out to be a downside. (First more regarding the upside. All the Alzheimer's books and authorities say that we must live in the reality of the patient. We cannot squeeze them into true reality since it doesn't exist for them. So, we have let Dad continue in his misperception because at the outset it finally gave him peace about his situation and because there is absolutely nothing that I can do about his situation that could otherwise give him peace or help. He has been blocked from seeing her and there are no legal channels that I can even take to undo what had been done before he came to live with us.) Now the downside. But first a comment about a friend of mine and his dad.

My friend's dad was in a nursing home with Alzheimer's. (A fairly common disease, isn't it?) One day my friend took his mother to see his father. There he sat on the couch with another woman whom he immediately introduced as his wife. Even though his own wife visited him frequently, he had forgotten who she was. The lady on the couch with him could very well have had a living husband as well, but that is not part of this story. Alzheimer's patients forget things. They forget people. They forget spouses and children. (An aside. Last Sunday our daughter in law came into church a little late and sat beside Dad. That is her common place to sit. After the service Dad said to my bride, "That blond girl came in again and sat by me. Why?")

Dad has a "girlfriend". Good for him, I say. Everyone needs a friend. She is an interesting person. She is a recent immigrant who speaks little to no English. That is OK, neither does Dad anymore. He just makes up in his mind what he thinks she is saying. He probably makes up more in his mind the things he says to her than he actually says. That is how conversations with him go. He talks and hasn't said anything quite often. He starts in the middle and ends in the middle of his ideas. Really downside. He asked, or at least he thinks he asked this lady on a date this weekend. Problem number 1: he can't drive. Problem number 2: she most likely has no idea what he said to her. Problem number 3: he doesn't know her name or where she lives. Problem number 4: he wanted me to take care of problems 1, 2, 3. He wanted to meet her at the library. He obsessed over how she would get there and he would not be there. On, and on and ON and ONNNNN!!! At supper he then announced he is marrying her. "Give me one good reason that I can't" was his challenge. There was a knock down drag out fight waiting to happen. I am not Alzheimer's stupid anymore. I changed the subject. While not forgetting the subject, he did forget the challenge he had made. Good. No, GREAT! But then he started obsessing about him not being there when she arrived again. At least it was better than the fight.

The fog has really thrown him into a ditch on this one. There is no reality that is good for him in this issue. Either reality leaves him either grieving or frustrated. We had been rather enjoying some of the sunny days in his descent. These foggy days, increasingly foggy days, create a little less joy for him and a little more concern for us. Still, the whole situation from a complete outsider's perspective, would be one of great comedy. A whole sitcom could come from it. If I stand outside myself I can find comic relief in it, and that is my current sunshine in his descent.

Natural Progression

Two weeks ago our youngest grandson turned two. He is no longer my baby boy, now he is my big boy. Each day he adds a new word to his vocabulary. Each day he is more able to do some small thing he couldn't do before. That is the natural progression of things. Right after his birthday I had my annual physical. The doctor and I discussed why I am not quite as able to do everything in the same way I could before. He says it is the natural progression of things. And so it goes with Dad.

Alzheimer's has a progression. There are 7 stages and a patient goes from one to another. It is not a smooth progression. Different patients hit different symptoms at different times. Some skip some symptoms while others have more. It is not a very orderly disease. There is only one real thing to count on. That is that there will be an observable natural progression of decline with intermittent blips in the sunshine. When Dad first came to us we had those sunshine days about 4 of 7. Today, two years later, it is sunshine moments, not days. While there is no smoothness to his decline, it has been steadily downward. That is the natural progression.

We have been able to observe this decline since November 2005. It has now been two full years that Dad has lived with us. When he came we had anticipated 2 months, then a few months, then a year (maybe), but it has extended itself. Our little girl who was a junior in high school has graduated and is getting married in a month. Our grandson who lives in town was a week old. Now he is two and expecting a baby sister in a month. I had just added a second full time job that was supposed to last for 12 months, now after a one year extension they are offering me another 2 year extension. A lot happens in two years. Life moves on in many ways. One thing has dominated it all for those two years. Dad.

We have watched his steady decline, the natural progression of things for him. For the first time in two years we took a respite weekend this past weekend. It was wonderful. My bride and I sort of made a pact. NO talk of Dad for two whole days. That was great. Now we are back and back into the routine. (He stayed here and our son came and took care of him while we left.) What does tomorrow hold for Dad? More decline, the natural progression of things. But in it all there will be some smiles, some moments of sunshine, some hilarity, some moments created by his disease that will be forever memorable - some sunshine in his descent.