Loving and Living Alzheimer’s

Friday was his 56th birthday.  It held little significance for him overall, however he was jovial.  I even got a dance out of him when I sang him his birthday song. The morning went smoothly.  He watched TV while I prepared a Turkey dinner for a us and couple of friends.  I really felt it was going to be peaceful day. Until it wasn't... While I will spare you the gory details, I was not prepared for the state in which I had found him. He entered the kitchen distressed and trying to alert us he had made a mess.  It takes took only seconds to determine what had happened.  He was so confused but there was a part of him that understood he needed assistance. Got him showered, floors cleaned and settled back into bed. And then I had an epic meltdown. When he was diagnosed, there were two things he was afraid of.  One was being bedridden, the other...this. Why today?  This was supposed to be his day.  My heart broke a little bit more.  My soul is sad.  I was not prepared for this, even th

I work from home.  Each morning, while I am occupied at my desk, Randy will often get up just to open and close the bedroom door.  Over and over, for long periods of time. Once that activity has run its course, he will quietly walk down the hallway, stopping just short of me being able to see him.  Almost as if he is hiding.  There he will stand, silently.  Until I acknowledge him or until he decides to return to the bedroom. Upon his return to the bedroom, he will either go back to sleep or sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. This cycle repeats for hours. And it stresses me out! I worry that he's distressed or confused or scared or any other troublesome state that my mind can conjure.  When I can take no more, I brace myself and go to him.  Only to discover, he's fine.  Bonus is, he's happy to see me. My brain goes into Mommy mode and the nurture instinct tells me he needs to be coddled and fixed.  He must be struggling. Fretting. Perspective I am the one stru