The pouring of ice water in the Ice Water Challenge may seem a little stupid, but it went viral. It accomplished the goal of raising the awareness of ALS. Its one thing to get in on the fun and challenge, but if you didn’t follow through with a donation, then it is a wonderful cause stiffed by pop-culture. It would be nice if we perhaps had another challenge for Alzheimer's. It too is a nasty incurable disease.
ALS and Alzheimer’s are a wicked ways to end one a life. I guess the saving grace is that in Alzheimers, the victim doesn’t know what’s going on. I often wonder what is going on in their mind when they don’t recognize family and friends and just sit and stare. It is the family and friends who see this degenerate state. They mourn the loss.
My father-in- law died in a nursing home of the disease. I know Healthcare center is a more politically correct term used by relatives feel better, and relieve their own guilt. Whatever you call it, it is a warehouse for the old and infirmed and very much needed. The experience is often harder on the family than the patient, particularly, an Alzheimer’s patient.
On one visit I made both my sons go to experience what tragedy this disease can do to a human being, their grandpa. Bud didn’t recognize us and peed his pants, and what he did say didn’t made much sense. How degrading. Before he had to be committed to the nursing home, the signs emerged daily, each day going faster down hill. Later my mother-in-law admitted she waited too long to make that awful necessary decision to send him where he would get the care he needed. I know that feeling. I saw it in my dad when we had to re-admit my mom to a nursing home. My mom did not have Alzheimer’s yet, but she had a lot of dementia.
With Alzheimer’s, sometimes it is the funny things they do that makes us laugh and get through this sad event of the human experience. One time Bud was about to walk out the door, he had on his shirt, tie, hat, shoes and socks. Unfortunately, he forgot to put on his pants. Luckily my mother-in-law caught him before he got out.
When my father died, our mom sat across the visitation room pretty far away from where my father rested. She was greeted by family and friends through out the visitation. When we got home, she plopped herself in her chair and said, "What a good time I had", virtually oblivious to why she was there. At the nursing home she would always say that my dad was having an affair with a rather large black caregiver. She also wrote us boys a note that my father found. When my brother and I were in Marion, he pulled the note from his ratty old bathrobe and asked how we would feel if we got this note. The note,” Dear boys.Your father and I are getting divorced and I am moving to Arkansas. I’ll be in touch.” My brother and I laughed, but he certainly didn’t find any humor in it.
Sadly, Bud and my mother’s Alzheimer’s stories are not the end of tragedy of Alzheimer’s in our family. My brother-in-law, Larry, has Alzheimer's. He was committed to a facility about four years ago. He is now totally bedridden and virtually comatose. I didn’t live around him, so I only saw him every year or so. The time I remember most was when I noticed there might be something wrong. It didn’t register with me time, it is only in retrospect that I remember this because of course we didn’t know what was coming. We were playing golf. We had all teed off and waited for him. He was just standing there staring. Finally he slowly walk to his bag a pulled out his club. We didn’t really notice because Larry always moved a little slow, but there was something about this time that caused me to store it in my memory bank.
During all this time his wife visits he him virtually every day. How hard is that on her? We cannot judge unless we have been there.
Larry weighed 300 lbs, give or take, much of his life. His current weight is 114 lbs. We all wonder why God has not taken him. Perhaps it is not right to pray for someone’s death, but in this case we wonder what God is waiting for.
So pour a bucket of cold water on yourself and contribute to this dreadful life sucking disease,
Peace be you, Larry.
Sam
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