Sitting on the Curb

A neighbor e-mailed me with subject "It's Time." She suggested that I might want to stay home with The Love of My Life because she had to give him a ride home from about a half mile from home. She saw him sitting on the curb and asked how she could help. He told her that he couldn't walk any more and no one else would give him a ride.

Later that night he told me that a nice woman had given him a ride because his foot hurt. We looked at it and found out that he had a bruised toe. Hmm...he walked to the bathroom in the dark the night before and stubbed a middle toe on his right foot. No longer a mystery!!

Yesterday, my girlfriends and I were sitting in the "favorite restaurant of The Love of My Life" waiting for him. He was walking in SOOO SLOWLY! He and I decided to reduce the number of miles he walks in the early morning in the summer desert.

Support Group Meeting #1

I went to my first Alzheimer's support group meeting this evening.

Let's rewind just a bit. My best friend decided to relocate her high-school-age daughters to Montana for the school year. I don't like the idea. She has been a major source of support since we entered this Alzheimer's journey. She says we can still e-mail and text message. I'm used to seeing her in the Country Club locker room 4 or 5 times a week and having tea or breakfast with her at least twice a week for the past decade. She stayed at the hospital emergency room with me when I had my colitis attack last year. She (along with our fabulous friend Marcia) cleaned my house and refrigerator when I wasn't able to walk after my knee replacement surgery 3 years ago. She encouraged me in Weight Watchers. Let's face it...I need her here and my emotions are raw.

Anyway, back to Alzheimer's support...It's quite interesting to hear the journey that others are traveling.

I returned home to a bunch of questions. "Did they find out what's wrong with you?" I explained that I sat around a table with people who are caring for (or have cared for) others with Alzheimer's Disease and just chatted.

"Is that what I have?" We think so.
"Were any of them there?" No, it was just for people who are taking care of people like you.
"What did you find out?" Some are more progressed in the disease than you are.
"More progressed? What does that mean?" Some can't dress themselves. At least you put on your own clothes after I put them out for you. Some can't walk very well. At least you walk 3 miles every day.

Two years ago, his 3 miles took under an hour. He kept track of his time and raced to beat his best time. He was so proud that he could accomplish 3 miles in 39 minutes and 40 seconds rather than 40 minutes.

Last year, he had trouble subtracting and asked for help every day to see whether he had walked the 3 miles in more than an hour or less than an hour.

Today, it took 1 hour and 28 minutes to walk the 3 miles.

In college, he was a sprinter. When we met, he ran 6.5 miles for an hour in the noonday sun in Tallahassee.

My First Ever Blog Post

My husband was diagnosed with Dementia several years ago. Dealing with day-to-day activities seems to take more and more effort, so I've decided to share some of our experiences on this on-line journal.

I'm not sure that I'll be able to do this every day, since time seems to get away from me as it does for many primary caregivers. Maybe a few times a week will be a more realistic goal.

Since I've been thinking about creating a blog for quite a while, there will be lots to catch you up on. Memory lapses, memory absences, adult diapers, music, movies, family, photography, personal hygiene, judgement, lack of judgement and travel are only some of the topics you'll see here. I'll also be sharing photos of my knitting works in progress.

Buckle up. It's going to be an interesting ride.