Learning to Live With Alzheimers

After the shock of realizing that my wife of 52 years no longer recognized or remembered me I was at a total loss. Should I go along with her delusion or should I argue and try to prove who I really was. Arguing proved to be pointless as she couldn't be convinced that I was anything more than a stranger. I didn't think that it could get much worse than that but I was wrong.

We got along fairly well for a week or so (as long as I didn't try to hug her or show any affection,) and one morning I asked Carol if she wanted to go to the grocery store in Newport with me or stay at home. She said she would rather stay at home with the doggies.

When I got back home with a car load of groceries and tried to take an armload into the house she met me at the door and said, “I'm not letting you in, you can't stay here!”

“I live here!” I said. I couldn't think of anything else to say, except, “At least let me bring in the groceries!” Reluctantly, she let me in, and while I unloaded the car and put the groceries away she shouted that I was not her husband and that as soon as I was done I had to leave.

She was sobbing while I got on the phone and left a message on our son Brad's answering service asking if he and his wife Donna would come over to help. By the time they arrived Carol had calmed down some and between the two of them talking to her she finally relented and agreed to let Brad take her to the emergency room at the hospital in Newport.

Later that day Brad called and told me that they diagnosed her having a urinary tract infection which for some reason, is known to cause big problems, including anxiety attacks in Alzheimer's patients. Brad brought her home with a prescription for Cipro, an antibiotic.

Several days later the four of us went to our family doctor and he prescribed some medicine to help ease Carol's anxiety and panic attacks and hopefully help with her memory loss. We're getting along pretty well now, I guess she thinks of me as some kind of family friend and we seem to do OK with that unspoken understanding, but I sure do miss those good morning and goodnight hugs and kisses.

I hope her memory of me comes back. I keep playing oldies on the boom box and looking at family pictures with her but for now I just have to nod when she asks me if I ever met her and Bob's son, Rick. I think to myself, yes honey, I watched him being born. Dammit! I'm Bob!