I sold my house last March and moved to my brother’s house in Vernon CT where he and his wife have an in-law apartment that my folks stayed fior a while, to add my time to the family workload. Since the load seemed manigable at the time but would obviously get harder in the future, I decided to attempt the trip when I did. Eventually as emails indicated a deteriorating situation Stateside, I shifted to plan B which had always been to keep wandering as long as possible but reurn when needed.
The typical day for Mom & Dad was breakfast, bath from aides and then sit in the livingroom and read and look out the window. Dad’s loss of coherent conversation began to drive my mother mad. She was reading a couple books a week and he was quite distracting. So we were able to secure a senior center that would pick Dad up in the morning, attempt to entertain and to keep him safe then return him late afternoon. And this was obviously a stress reliever for Mom. And us.
It appears to me that Connecicut is a pretty good place to get old in, health wise. Having left Massachusetts before I was old enough to need it, I can’t compare but based on my cancer treatment success, support and low cost, I believe MA is good too. My mother has a live-in caregiver. A christian woman from Ghana. I’m guessing she was born on a Tuesday based on her name. Dad has the aforementioned day care 5 days a week and an aide overnight for 12 hours to get him into bed, help him if he gets up and wash and get him dressed in the AM. On the weekends more family is available to keep an eye on Dad. Old G as I oft call him. But let me tell you when he is well rested, and on a verbal roll, if you stay too long you leave feeling if your head might explode trying to follow his conversation.
Apparently with many Alzheimer patients they loose their memory opposite of what you would expect. Dad lost his memory almost as if the more recent the memory, the quicker it flies away. I’m not talking about not being able to remember the unremakable lunch you had 3 hours ago kind. I’m talking the “when are we going to church” when we are on the way home from it kind of loss. Kids names? Not a clue. Kids? Not that he knows of. Recogizes faces of his ‘buddies’ ie family, thankfully. It’s one thing if he can’t remember a name, I can’t recall him calling me by name in over 3 years, but if he couldn’t tell friend from foe, that would be a real problem. Tales of growing up in Roslindale. He can’t tell you much but the little he remembers comes at you in different threads each time, with thread of the day usually repeated many times. Later it will be Boston College and the GI bill story. But very little after the fourties. Not even his wedding in 1949.
Distract him they tell us. Easier said than done.
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