Dad and Alzheimer's update
Dec. 7th, 2018 06:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
agoodwinsmithAt the end of the summer it became apparent that Dad could no longer understand how a calendar works. Now that it is dark so early, Dad is having difficulty knowing what time it is. Five O'clock on a dial clock could be 5 in the morning, or 5 in the evening. This loss of understanding how to measure the passing of time is difficult, but matches what we anticipated would happen to Dad's skill set.
We have reached a bad place (one of the first of many, I am sure) where the specifics of how the memory is lost are surprising, and so newly distressing because we aren't toughened up for it by expectation.
While Dad still knows that he has a wife and knows her name, he occasionally doesn't recognize Mom as that person. So. Dad knows that his wife would like a present for Christmas, and he remembered a thing that she has said she would like, and we went and purchased that thing. He remembered what he wanted to buy for a couple of weeks prior to purchase, and he now remembers that it has been purchased. He doesn't remember that I have taken the present for safe keeping, and he fusses continually about where it is. So, that argues that he still knows who Mom is. However, last night he talked to Mom as though she was a stranger, asking her about her parents, and her brothers and sisters, and thinking that she has a son. Since he doesn't retain answers to his questions, half an hour later he asked her again - and then half an hour after that asked again. It's very hard on Mom.
It feels to us that the progression of Dad's Alzheimer's has sped up, and we don't know how much of that might have been caused by his chemo treatment for the mutiple myeloma. He has had his last infusion, and this coming Wednesday will be his last injection. About 10 days ago, the oncologist said he wasn't happy with the blood counts for Dad's kidneys, and Dad had an ultrasound, but we haven't heard anything more.
Dad is very restless now, and doesn't remain interested in anything for more than a few minutes at a time. He spends a lot of time searching through little stashes of paper either in his wallet or in his bible case. We're going to give Dad some photocopies of the things he bought for Mom for Christmas, so he can search through them and sort them, and we're hoping this will calm his concerns that the pieces of Mom's present are okay. I suspect it won't work, because he doesn't recognize the things he handles, and he drops things on the floor without noticing. But it's worth a try.
We are pursuing various supports, and the ones we've accessed are helping, but the needs morph everyday and helpers can't be called at the drop of a hat.
Sometimes I think that what zombie and vampire stories are about is this alienating transformation of aging: the person is still the person you love, and they look like that person, and occasionally have some of that person's mannerisms, and they sound like that person. The pattern-making human brain gathers up the fragments you recognize and connects them into the whole for you. But the person is transformed in distressing ways.
And the person still has moments of clarity. About two weeks ago, we all went for coffee, and Dad and I sat down first, and Dad said to me, "I never wanted to end up like this."
We have reached a bad place (one of the first of many, I am sure) where the specifics of how the memory is lost are surprising, and so newly distressing because we aren't toughened up for it by expectation.
While Dad still knows that he has a wife and knows her name, he occasionally doesn't recognize Mom as that person. So. Dad knows that his wife would like a present for Christmas, and he remembered a thing that she has said she would like, and we went and purchased that thing. He remembered what he wanted to buy for a couple of weeks prior to purchase, and he now remembers that it has been purchased. He doesn't remember that I have taken the present for safe keeping, and he fusses continually about where it is. So, that argues that he still knows who Mom is. However, last night he talked to Mom as though she was a stranger, asking her about her parents, and her brothers and sisters, and thinking that she has a son. Since he doesn't retain answers to his questions, half an hour later he asked her again - and then half an hour after that asked again. It's very hard on Mom.
It feels to us that the progression of Dad's Alzheimer's has sped up, and we don't know how much of that might have been caused by his chemo treatment for the mutiple myeloma. He has had his last infusion, and this coming Wednesday will be his last injection. About 10 days ago, the oncologist said he wasn't happy with the blood counts for Dad's kidneys, and Dad had an ultrasound, but we haven't heard anything more.
Dad is very restless now, and doesn't remain interested in anything for more than a few minutes at a time. He spends a lot of time searching through little stashes of paper either in his wallet or in his bible case. We're going to give Dad some photocopies of the things he bought for Mom for Christmas, so he can search through them and sort them, and we're hoping this will calm his concerns that the pieces of Mom's present are okay. I suspect it won't work, because he doesn't recognize the things he handles, and he drops things on the floor without noticing. But it's worth a try.
We are pursuing various supports, and the ones we've accessed are helping, but the needs morph everyday and helpers can't be called at the drop of a hat.
Sometimes I think that what zombie and vampire stories are about is this alienating transformation of aging: the person is still the person you love, and they look like that person, and occasionally have some of that person's mannerisms, and they sound like that person. The pattern-making human brain gathers up the fragments you recognize and connects them into the whole for you. But the person is transformed in distressing ways.
And the person still has moments of clarity. About two weeks ago, we all went for coffee, and Dad and I sat down first, and Dad said to me, "I never wanted to end up like this."
no subject
Date: 2018-12-08 05:20 pm (UTC)From experience with both of my parents:
Make sure you have a nursing home lined up for your Dad. At this point your Mom can't cope, no matter how much help she gets, he will need 24hr care.
Make sure someone in the family has a Power of Attorney to make decisions for your parents (plural) if they can't.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-10 07:24 am (UTC)Yes, we have the POAs in place: Mom for Dad, me & SOGP for both Mom & Dad, me & SOGP for each other, and someone for whoever of us is left at the end - and a back up for her.
We are inching towards a place for Dad - some of it is waitlists and the time for processes. And some of it is because we don't want it to be yet.
I have been following Jann Arden on Facebook, so I have been prepared for some of the standard events. The things that Jann and her mom are dealing with now are heartbreaking.