Alzheimer's: The Scourge of Old Age

I sometimes worry that I'm going to get Alzheimer's. It's not a distant, "Oh, what if" kind of worry. It's alive and knocking on the door, reminding me that I'm not getting any younger, and I can do very little to stop it from stepping into my life. You see, I'm 41, and it's already here.

No, heaven forbid, I don't have it--at least I don't think so. But it's a big part of my life. My grandmother, 85, has it, and it is like watching an old friend walk away, slowly and quietly. Gram has always been a major part of my life, and this change is in some ways heartbreaking, but in others, it's made me appreciate her all the more.

My mom has been gone 21 years, and Gram (Mom's mom) has been the maternal figure in my life since then. I was an adult (almost 21) when Mom died, but as anyone knows, sometimes you need a "mom" to answer questions that just don't make sense. Gram and Gramps filled the lack I had in my life. (My dad died a few years ago, but that's another story for another day.) So taking care of Gram is left almost exclusively to me and Doug.

(My mom's sister lives in North Carolina, and my brother lives outside of Seattle, so they can't help with the day-to-day, but they help a great deal with emotional support.)

Getting groceries, taking her to the doctor, taking her to get her hair done, making sure her bills are paid, making sure her dog has food, and that she has toilet paper are left to us. Day-to-day chores that seem so commonplace we rarely think about it--we just do them--suddenly become *very* important and a major obstacle to overcome.

Gram takes care of herself and her dog at home, feeding herself, taking her pills. Her dog, Max, is vital to keeping her active and happy. Her neighbor walks Max for her almost every day, and that is good for two reasons: 1) Max gets to walk with his buddies. 2.) Someone is looking in on Gram every day, even when Doug and I don't get over there.

A couple of days ago, I took Gram to the grocery store. The little restaurant located inside the store serves tasty food, quick and inexpensive. We've been going there since it opened more than thirty years ago. Although it has changed, the basic layout of the store is the same.

I helped Gram into the store, and we walked to the restaurant. She laughed and said, "A baby [Drake] on one side and a big baby [Gram] on the other." I laughed, but I thought how true that is.

Deciding what to eat is always a chore for her. Having too many choices is overwhelming. So I narrowed her choices down to a couple of items, and she chose for herself from those. She kept asking me, "What do I like?" It tears at me to know that she doesn't remember.

(She told me today, "My memory is about this long." She put her fingers out with only millimeters between them. I laughed and said, "Sometimes mine is like that too." I try to not deny it when she says things about her lack of memory, but rather laugh it off. I searched her eyes to see if she believed me. I think she did.)

Then after eating, I thought we'd go to the restroom before we shopped. She came out of the restaurant and headed the wrong direction. I said, "No, Gram, this way, by the front doors." She got her cart, and she walked on past the restroom over towards the front of the checkouts.

All these years of going to the store, and Gram couldn't remember where the restrooms were.

Throughout the store, she constantly asked me, "What do I like?" "Will I eat that?" "Have I ever eaten this?"

It took us almost four hours to painstakingly go through seemingly each and every item in the store. Too many decisions for her to make. Too much for her to handle. However, I refuse to take that bit of independence away from her. I never let her out of my sight because I was afraid she wouldn't make it to the next aisle.

Perplexed, she stood in front of the freezer and tried to choose what she would buy. Even just the contents of one freezer were too much for her to pick and choose from.

I fought back my tears.

Finally, we got through the checkout and out to the car. Gram said she was exhausted. After trying to keep the baby happy (he fell asleep in the cart for awhile) and making nearly all of Gram's decisions, I was exhausted too.

It's ironic--and wonderful--that Gram does well at home. She is more confident and knows what to do. Even putting the food away, she knew where she wanted it. She's fine there. It's her home, the home that she shared with my grandfather for nearly 60 years. I will not take her from there unless I am physically not able to take care of her. Fortunately, my husband and my kids understand that. I know it won't be easy, but it's what I must do.

After taking her home, helping her get her food put away, making sure that she had her evening meal and pill, paying the bills that were due right away, then heading home myself, it was all I could do to drag myself and the baby to my car. But my day wasn't done. I had my own groceries to put away when I got home--and doesn't it figure that Aleyna couldn't help much because she's getting over mono (although she did a great deal), Lance helped (but would rather eat the junk food that I bought instead of helping . We badgered him into doing the cans.), and Ky and Doug weren't home. *sigh*

Before I finally stumbled to bed, I changed and nursed the baby and cuddled with him until he fell asleep (I know I shouldn't, but tough! ). Calming gratitude filled my heart for the blessings and the challenges in my life. I understand why Gram is still here...she is teaching me the patience I've always lacked, the compassion I need and the heart to appreciate the joys I've been given.

I just hope that I can always *remember* them as well......