Tag Archives: Alzheimer routines

When an Azheimer’s Spouse Resists

Alzheimer's Spouse Issue, , , , , , , , ,

Yes, it’s been months. Life with Ralph  did not  seem to be changing much, but now I think we are in a new stage that deserves recording.

In October Ralph was accepted in a highly respected local ACE program for those with Alzheimer’s. I had added him to the waiting list several months earlier. on the suggestion of caregivers who I had a feeling Ralph was not ready to be in a group that acknowledged the members have Alzheimer’s but I was warned that it can take years before someone is accepted and I figured that by then he would be ready.

When the call came that there was an opening, I wasn’t sure what to do, but I talked to others in my support group whose spouses had been in the program and they all recommended I try it out. So for the last month Ralph has been attending three days a week. Each four hour visit includes some combination of physical exercise, mental games like trivia, visits with the preschool children in the same facility, music with visiting musicians, art projects, and lunch, snacks and conversation.

The first week or so Ralph was as enthusiastic as he gets about any activity these days. Then one afternoon he came home complaining that he found the group depressing. Evidently, as I learned later from a volunteer, one of the members had become weepy as people talked about their pasts.

He began to get resistant and say it was a waste of time. When he complained that he didn’t do anything while there, I showed him the note handed out after each session spelling out that day’s events; invariably Ralph is specifically mentioned as an active participant. I told that he seemed more energized now. And he generally came around to the idea that getting out and seeing people—he actually did talk specifically about Mamou, a tall distinguished looking man I’d noticed as someone who seemed to be at Ralph’s cognitive level—was better than sitting in a chair all day everyday even if there was no other specific value. I told my support group of his resistance and they agreed I should push him to continue despite his resistance.

But then a combination of doctor appointments I couldn’t reschedule and Thanksgiving recess meant Ralph missed over a week of meetings. This morning when I told him he was going back, he couldn’t quite remember what the program was, but then he became indignant and flared up in stubborn anger at the idea. 

“Those old people have mental problems. They are depressing. I won’t go.”  He glared at me from deep in his chair that he had no intention of leaving. I told him all the reasons to attend I always tell him (without actually using the word Alzheimer’s), but he was adamant. I remembered times when my children resisted going to preschool or other activity as toddlers. Only they were small and I had physical control. Ralph weighs 200 pounds. I didn’t quake before his anger but I did cave.

At 9:30 I emailed the leaders and said he would not be there when it began at ten and that he didn’t want to continue so we were giving up his place. He watched me type, asked why it was taking me so long, reiterated that he didn’t want to go.

Reluctantly I hit send.

“What did you say exactly. I don’t want to shame anyone.”

“Just that you had decided not to continue.”

“Do you think I should keep going?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I listed the same set of reasons I had listed all morning and that he had rejected.

“I don’t mind going. It’s as good a way as any to spend my time.”

Quickly, and with some embarrassment for myself,  I emailed again that Ralph had changed his mind and would be there after all. Then we got in the car. 

Usually I drop him at the front door, but today I walked in with him just to see and make sure the leaders got my second message. They had and as I left Ralph didn’t bother to say goodbye. He was too busy chatting with his Mamou.

Frankly the morning depleted me. And I have a feeling more mornings like this are coming my way.

Our OLD YELLER Moment

Caregiver/Spouse Issues, , , , , ,

 

old-yeller

Our dog Zeus had a bit of excitement last week. I was driving to the grocery store when Ralph called and announced that Zeus had been in combat with a wild boar, or at least a feral pig, or maybe a domestic hog that got loose. Whatever it was—Ralph said it had black hair and weighed a lot more than Zeus—must have drawn the dogs’ attention while they were in the yard outside Ralph’s workroom. Ralph said he heard a ruckus and found Ralph in a dried gulley with his teeth in the pig/boar’s neck and the pig/boar trying to get at Zeus. Somehow Ralph managed to separate them and the pig/boar ran off. (If you are thinking, ohmyGod, Ralph could have been badly hurt himself, I know I know but can’t dwell on it or I’ll go nuts.)

I could tell Ralph was upset and excited at the same time, basically on the adrenaline high anyone would experience under the circumstances, and he seemed surprisingly in control of the situation. He said he’d cleaned up Zeus who didn’t seem to have been hurt. By the time I got home with the groceries man and dog were already asleep and I assumed fine.

However the next morning, Zeus was definitely limping when I let him out for a pee. I had an appointment I couldn’t cancel and left soon after, having warned Ralph to check Zeus more thoroughly. Ralph called me half an hour later to say he’d found a gash near Zeus’s belly that he hadn’t noticed. By then I was driving through pouring rain, and my phone was barely working, so Ralph was pretty much on his own.

Although I directed him where to find the vet’s phone number on the fridge, Ralph called on his own, made an appointment and took the dog in by himself: In the poring rain. To the vet’s office that’s not on his usual driving radar.

When he called back to say that Zeus was scheduled for surgery and would be staying the night, he sounded definitely in control of the situation.

I was impressed. Guilty that I had not paid more attention to the situation. But mostly impressed, thinking that maybe I shouldn’t underestimate Ralph, that I need to recognize he is still up to handling a crisis.

Of course in the morning I did have to remind him where Zeus was and why. And luckily I was in the room when the vet called because afterwards Ralph wasn’t sure what the vet had just told him. I called back to give the vet office my number for future reference, they explained they wanted to keep Zeus an extra day. (Zeus is now something of a vet celebrity by the way, our own local Old Yeller, especially after they pulled coarse black hairs out of his mouth where Zeus lost a fang from biting down so hard.) Still, I was feeling really good about Ralph’s competence when we picked up Zeus and brought him home.

But here’s where things get sticky. The meds, morning and evening pills, I can deal with myself, but keeping Zeus inside, per the vet’s instructions, has depended on Ralph’s help. And this he seems incapable of remembering, any more than he can remember that the wound is on Ralph’s thigh not his stomach. Each time I catch Ralph and the dog outside, I go through the routine of reminding and explaining Zeus’s injury, his treatment and that he is supposed to be inside until the stitches heal. This recovery process is driving me crazy of course.

Gotta go make sure Zeus is in the house……