Dear Allen,
I wish there were words I could say to tell you how much empathy I feel for what you, your wife, and your mother are experiencing. My husband of 35 years went through events similar to your wife, except he was physically stronger than I and therefore I was in fear of him and at the same time trying to help. Our family doctor prescribed a "behavioral" medication called Divalproex EC (250mg) that helped him. He became more calm. It was a gradual behavioral change and took almost 2 weeks before his behavior changed enough that I felt safe being alone with him once more. Thankfully, you have your mother who seems able to help calm your wife. Perhaps your doctor can prescribe something for your wife. Until then, just know you are doing everything you can under very trying circumstances. One very important thing...please take care of yourself. You are very important. Without you, your mother and your wife will be worse off.
I wrote a piece (changing the names) that detailed one of our experiences. I will post it here. I know it will not help your situation with your wife, but perhaps it will help you feel you are not alone. It is not a happy piece of writing, but it is a truthful one. Nothing about the advancement of Alzheimer’s, or any type of dementia, is happy. True, humorous events take place that make us smile, but underlying most smiles you will find sadness. As with all things, there are good times and bad times. Unfortunately, the particular set of experiences related here were not enjoyable, but they happened nonetheless.
An individual, who was aware of these happenings, asked me if Jim would have been happy to provide this material in exchange for how terrible it actually was. My answer would have to be, “If he thought that someone else could learn or benefit from these experiences, then he would acquiesce to it being written. Had he known in advance how traumatic the experience was, he probably would have passed up the opportunity to have lived it.”
ANGER AND CONFUSION
While Blanche was driving back home from Joe’s doctor’s appointment, he asked, “Is Susie really here? Are you really Susie?”
“Yes, Joe. I’m here and I’m really Susie,” she answered.
His words were urgent when he asked, “Where are you?”
“I’m right here in the seat behind you,” she answered. He reached his hand back for her to take and he held it for quite a long while.
Once more at home, Susie made him a quick sandwich for lunch. While she was making the sandwich, he asked her to tell him what had happened that morning. She patiently related what had happened during his visit to the doctor and what the doctor had said to him.
“Thank you,” he said and kissed her. “That wasn’t much of a kiss, but I have a sore lip.”
“That’s strange. So do I,” Susie told him.
He asked, “Did I do that to you?”
She wondered if he remembered striking out at her the night before. She hesitated before answering.
“Yes, Joe,” she responded softly. “Yes, you did it.”
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, and then he started crying.
“It’s all right, Joe. You didn’t mean to.” She held his hand, stroking it gently until his tears stopped. Placing his sandwich on the table, she then sat down with a glass of milk.
“Is your sandwich ok?” she asked.
Without a word, he got up from the table, taking his fork with him, and went to the front door. When he came back, he glared at her. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“I’ve been here all the time.”
“You better leave right now. And, you better leave now.” He continued to glare at her. “You know what happens if you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” She stood up, opened the back door and went outside.
“You come back here right now,” he yelled.
She went around the house and was heading toward Blanche’s home when he yelled from the front door, “Come back here you sleazy son-of-a-bitch.”
In about fifteen minutes, Susie returned to her house to check on him. She noticed that he had placed the doormat on a plastic chair on the porch. He had put another plastic chair inside. An unopened can of V-8 juice sat on the inside windowsill. She looked in the open door, but couldn’t see him. He had moved the wooden rabbit that held his dum-dum pops from the top of the fridge and set it on the kitchen island counter. His shirt lay across the computer scanner. She went to the closed back door and saw that he had set out a small bottle of tap water along with a gallon bottle of water. He was going from dining room to kitchen and didn’t see her. She thought it sounded as if he had one boot on and one off. When he went into the living room, she quietly backed away from the door before he saw her. At least he was still home and safe, but she needed to get back inside.
It was just a few minutes later when he came out front door in his stocking feet, flashlight in hand, long-sleeve shirt on over his t-shirt, and his ball cap pulled down on his head. She went to the back door and saw nobody, heard nothing. She went inside and noticed the bedroom door was closed. Going inside, she went to the fridge, opened the door, and picked up a gallon of milk. When she turned back, she saw him standing outside of the back door, looking at her. Shivers ran through her body and her stomach dropped.
“Hi,” she said, trying to be very calm. “I came to get some milk.”
“Everyone needs milk sometime,” he replied, then immediately added, “Now put that milk back.”
She was already crossing the living room as she said, “OK, I’ll leave it outside.”
He yelled something unintelligible as she exited the house and returned to Blanche’s kitchen next door.
A few minutes later, he came walking up the sidewalk. She went outside and asked if he needed anything to eat.
He said, “Hi, Babe. What did you say?”
She repeated the question. “No, I’ve had enough to eat.”
“Would you like some cake?” she asked.
He smiled up at her, and then replied, “I always have room for cake.”
His anger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Everything had returned to normal for the moment, but Susie knew it would happen again. She just didn’t know when or how long it would last. She knew she would never be able to let her guard down at any time if she was to be safe with this man she loved so much.
Feeling helpless, frustrated, and desperate, she could only hope that the aid and support she needed from the medical community would come soon. They seemed concerned only with his physical condition. She needed a doctor’s referral to a neurologist for his cognitive deterioration, but nobody seemed to be listening.
She wondered in desperation, How much longer can I keep this up? What am I to do?
Hello Red - After reading your post, my heart goes out to you. Your cup is full and you don't know what to do or what to say. How familiar this is to so many of us here.
My dad had Alzheimers and passed away in 1997. He was one of the meekest, mildest men I've ever known. He never raised his voice, was kind, thoughtful, etc. When he was well into Alz he became beligerent with my mom. She did not know what to do. She never knew what would make him mad.
I wish I had some answers for you. Is she on any medication? Even though you must care for your mother also, she sounds like a blessing.
One thing we can do here on the site - if you want to rant and rave or cry or scream, we can listen. Sometimes just the ability to get something off your chest helps.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
Sunny
Red,
Thanks for writing. How young your wife is to be in that stage already!
Ma Katie went through the hallucinations and they did have to give her meds as she would see
things that were not there to us anyway. By all means, let her take the meds.
Yes, I think one of the saddest things about this disease is we cannot do anything to make it go away, but we can love them and let them know they are loved even though we might not feel like we are getting it across at the time.
You are in my thoughts and prayers and please keep sharing with us.
go to alz.org and put in hallucinations and it gives you some helps.
God be with you all as you travel this rough and rocky road.
