Hope

I have been told that Alzheimer’s patients often become the polar opposite of who they once were, when the disease really takes hold. I had hoped this would not be the case with Randy.  That hope was in vain.

I never expected he could be capable of such rage.  Such hatred, even for fleeting moments.  Doubted he would ever become physically violent.  I had so much hope.

We have experienced a very volatile couple of weeks.  Fits, yelling, pouting and yes, escape!  Threats and physical aggressiveness.  We were seemingly stuck in a daily cycle of calm, agitation and then pure rage, resulting in departure.  Genuine fear for our safety and his.  

He is suffering, in a daily repetition of emotion and confusion.  The meds aren’t working and his Doctor isn’t listening….ignoring the urgency of our situation.  Hope seems lost.

He became so out of control that I was forced to take measures I had dreaded.  He fled once more, rambling and out of his mind, walking in and out of traffic.  His safety was paramount.  One quick phone call and local PD rounded him up without incident.  An ambulance ride followed by several hours in the ER and new meds, were the result.  

Did I mention his Doctor wasn’t listening??  Rest assured, we have his attention now!  Randy is not just a chart in a file cabinet.  He deserves better.  He deserves fierce advocacy to ensure his peace.  I will not stand by and let him suffer.  

With his Neuro finally (I believe) on the same page, we no longer treat the disease, as it’s too late for that.  Now, we treat the behavior.  Meds are key and will need to be altered periodically, for the remainder of his days.  I’m reluctant to be hopeful.

It’s been 13 days on his new meds.  He was doing so well.  So happy and childlike.  Easy going but a bit hyper-manic (which I’ll take any day over violent).  Until this morning.  He was in a great mood.  Until he wasn’t.  

Full of anger and wearing two different shoes, he was gone.  Snuck out, knowing he would be stopped.  I watched the whole thing unfold on the Ring camera.  Once out the door, he literally ran for it.  

He was tracked down and attempts to coerce him back, were made.  He wasn’t having any of it.  As an alternate plan was hatched, we lost track of him.  He returned on his own after about 30 minutes.  He proceeded to lock himself in our bedroom, where he remains still.

As I process the events of that last 30-something days, I wonder how we are going to keep him safe.  How we are going to keep us sane.  

It has taken me 3 days to purge all of this into writing.   I am struggling.  Struggling to communicate my thoughts.  Struggling to make sense of how we got here.  Why this happened to us.  To him.  Is this a small, tiny glimpse into what his world feels like?

Then, as is the usual process when blogging, comes the epiphany.  My struggle has afforded me a bit of insight as to how he must be feeling in these awful, painful moments.  

And just like that, a glimmer of hope.  Hope that I may have added a tool to my arsenal to possibly ease his suffering, even a little bit.  Understanding.  

Cheers💜