Loving and Living Alzheimer’s

No theme to this one.  Just thoughts of the little nuances of our week. Each new day brings a different version of our guy.  Happy, sad, angry, tired.  Who knows.  The sun rises and we buckle up for whatever emerges. We’ve run the gamut these past several days.  First part of the week we had Neuro appointments and an MRI.  (Very apprehensive about these results). Doctors visits always prompt the driving restriction issue, which results in a mad fit about how unfair it is.  After the MRI, Randy expressed how excited he was and that he “hopes it worked”.   Another crack in my heart knowing he thinks he can be cured. Mid week, he was an absolute BEAST!  Sleeping an average of  15 hours.  On Wednesday he was fighting mad when Pop came to pick him up for his usual overnighter.  He just wanted to sleep.  He just wanted to be left alone.  He was actually a bit scary, which is shocking to see in our gentle giant, each time it happens. I’m happy to report it’s nothing a Starbucks and tacos coul

Strangers are beginning to notice he’s impaired.  Simple exchanges and activities require repetitive direction or questions.  It’s happening before our eyes and it’s excruciating. At diagnosis, Randy was given 6-9 years.  There are 7 stages of Alzheimer’s progression.  Stage 6 having 5 sub stages (a-e) and Stage 7 having 6 (a-f).   As we approach then end of year 4, Randy is textbook Stage 6c.  Acknowledging this is shocking.  I’m torn between fearing this torture will go on for far too long and panic that we have so little time left. In just a weeks time, he is so much more confused and bewildered by everyday tasks.  His inability to comprehend any instruction given is off the charts.  Anything that requires multi-tasking is virtually impossible.   We have been trying to tame a feral kitten for a little over a month now.  When hand feeding with one hand , she will reluctantly allow us to pet her with the other.  Randy can’t seem to grasp the coordination of actively using both hands,

I feel like this is the most accurate description of our journey, at this point.   Lost.. Random items.  Currently, his wallet.  As usual, it’s my fault.  Accusations of my thievery, pouting and then the silent treatment…I might not mind the silent part. (Located the wallet, at Pop’s, under the bed.  Logical place for it.) Lost.. His ability to ask a question and remember he asked the question by the time it is answered.  His short term memory is almost non-existent.  God forbid his question prompts a question on the recipients part.  Abbott and Costello would appreciate the “who’s on first” exchange this prompts. Lost.. His understanding of how to operate simple household appliances and electronics.  He can no longer use the washer, the dishwasher, the coffeemaker, the microwave and, at times, the tv remote.  It is truly painful to watch him struggle to help with these mundane tasks. Lost.. His concept of time.  Time on a clock.  Time passing.  Days of the week, month or year.  Events