Yesterday I was taking care of Dorothy. For the most part I enjoy my time there and I usually get tons of personal stuff done while working. For whatever reason (I think due to her medications) she spends most of the time sleeping. I was under the impression this little issue was fixed but not for my time there! The lady who I came in for had not gotten her up to eat breakfast or take her morning pills. Mind you she is to take her evening and morning pills 12 hrs apart. Well Dorothy didn't get any breakfast or morning pills until 12 when I got her up to do all of this which means she will not, or at least she should not get her evening pills until midnight, can we say off the schedule? So Dorothy basically slept from 12:45 till 6 straight thru until I had to wake her up to put a patch on her. It really makes me sad to see her with no energy and just really out of it, let me share a couple of stories.
Story 1
About a year and a half ago Dorothy was doing very well and for the most part her Alzheimer's only kicked in every once in a while, and there were more good days then bad ones. She had spent most of the day relaxing alternately talking to me, napping, and watching TV. Out of the blue she looks around and thinks she is on an airplane. We spent two hours going thru suit cases, walking around the house trying to find the way off the plane, and trying to stuff a huge blanket into a tiny little suit case. Please don't think I just let her go around acting out and doing all these weird things I tried so hard to get her mind off of this whole airplane thing but it just was not working. Then on our way to the front door the hundredth time she turns around and looks at me and says we're not on an airplane are we? No Dorothy we are not. At this time she thinks she is a nut case and keeps apologizing. She helps me make dinner, get ready for bed, and the rest of the night is fine.
Story 2
We were told to let Dorothy know when she began asking for her family to let her know the ones that were deceased and the ones that were living. Of course she only asked for the deceased ones. For the longest time I refused to tell her her father, husband, and son were all deceased. But she had gotten into a really bad mood and I thought ok today's the day we're going to try this. She asked for her son and I looked at her and told her he passed away several years ago. She didn't believe me but when I showed her the list of family members and their date of death she just looked at me. Tears began streaming down her face and I felt like the biggest douche bag ever. Why did I even try this method? I knew it would not work! Dorothy cried for 4 hours. The saddest thing was the fact that I could not help her with her sorrow. I'm not a mother I have no idea what it would be like to have a child much less having to go to your child's funeral. All I could do was watch her cry, hold her hand, and think I'm such a heartless person because I didn't cry at all. And all she could say was what is wrong with me!? How could I forget that my only son died?
The whole point of this is in regards to the question that was raised Saturday at work, would we rather live with a healthy body and deteriorating mind or deteriorating body but healthy mind. If I really had a choice I would choose for my body to go before my mind. My family would still have to take care of me but at least I would be able to enjoy the last remaining years with them. I would know who they are and be able to share stories and memories before I go.
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