Lost in Space

It Is Shocking How Quickly He Has Changed

My mother called this evening.  APR managed to get lost in the house.  And, their house is so darn small.  I just realized the problems my mother would be having if they were still living in South Carolina.  It would be a nightmare.  If they had a larger house, it would be a nightmare, just trying to keep up with him.  Then he couldn't find the bathroom, was lost looking for it.

She was so sad.  I don't blame her.  The other day I realized that those of us dealing with Alzheimer's in the family handle things so much differently than people dealing with things like cancer.  We're completely fatalistic, knowing there is no hope, so why bother with false hope?  You do what you can do, and deal with it.  I'm noticing that people I know who have elderly parents with cancer seem to hold on to so many things - just hoping against hope.  It is starting to dawn on me that while it is long, drawn out, and heart-breaking, Alzheimer's in a way, is a kinder disease - to the family.

Once we realize what we are dealing with, and face it, oh, it's painful. It is miserable and tragic, but we know what the score is.  There's no 10% or 20% or 50-50%.  It is all slap in the face, deal with it.  Sure, you watch the person you love becoming a shell of what they once were, but, in our case, my father is not in pain.  He's really not suffering.  He's like an annoying four year old.  You see his mind going a little more, every day, but we know it is going to happen.  There's no let's try this and let's try that.  It's just, that's life with Alzheimer's.  I think I prefer it to false hope.

And - so you find reasons to seek the humor of the situation.  We are trying to find my father's 'stash'.  It is a common problem, especially with men who have the disease.  It is reaching the point where friends are now getting into the spirit of what is truly a scavenger hunt.  "Have you looked under the sofa where he sits and reads?" This sort of thing.

The shampoo still has not been found.

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