Finding Joy in Alzheimer’s

[elleng]

Little did I know that even after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, my grandmother had only begun to educate me.
“The wonderful thing about Alzheimer’s,” she once quipped after her diagnosis, “is that you always live in the moment.”

This was a zinger intended to conceal her frustration at having forgotten the punch line to one of her signature anecdotes. But it was, nevertheless, quite true. Through the haze of our grief, my grandfather Alfred and I began noticing that, along with her memories, JoAnn’s grudges, hurt feelings, worries and regrets were disappearing. In fact, within a year, she seemed happier than ever, more present and at peace.

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/02/16/finding-joy-in-alzheimers/

[Wait Wut]

1. I've seen both good and bad.

My great aunt became a vile, horrible and even dangerous woman.

My mother, a woman who never told me "I love you", never once gave me a hug, never gave a word of encouragement...became a child. She laughed, loved and only the "good" memories remained. She couldn't remember my father, but she would always ask about my son. She wouldn't remember my brother's name, but she remembered the name of her first dog. I would bring her "grown-up" coloring books and we would sit and color. Her room had a photo of my son in his uniform and my father in his. She thought they were the same person.

She lived miserably, but died happy.

[Kookaburra]

3. This is what I'm going through with my mother Wait Wut

In earlier years, she was one of the most judgmental, passive aggressive people I've ever known, and I stayed away from her as much as possible.
Now, as the Alzheimers has progressed, she has become the exact opposite. She's sweet, and gentle and laughs easily at simple things. She's always happy to see whomever comes to visit, and it's actually very pleasurable being around her now. I wonder if this is the personality she always had, but was afraid to show the world. The reason I say that is my Aunt (her sister), who was in her younger days a bitter, unhappy, whining pain in the ass, became more bitter and hateful as her Alzheimers progressed, threatening to kill people, etc. She was miserable her entire life.

Anyway, I don't know why I posted this, except your post touched my heart.

[JohnnyLib2]

5. And your post touched mine, so I posted below.

It's a long, hard road, but maybe it brings out the best at times.....

[Wait Wut]

7. It sounds like we have the same family!

When my mother came down with the disease, my favorite thing to do was to take her to the zoo and then out for ice cream. It really bothered me that it wasn't until then that I felt close to her.

[enough]

2. My personal experience.

In order to evaluate this article, it would be necessary to know exactly how much time the writer spent with his grandmother while she had Alzheimer's, and exactly what level of responsibility he had for her care and for how long.

About six months into my time of caring for my father, I decided I would pay absolutely no attention to the opinions, advice, inspirational words, or anything else from anyone who had not spent a long time in close contact with and having responsibility for an Alzheimer's patient. And I would listen to and honor the opinions of everyone who had. This worked very well for me.

My personal experience was that neither my father nor I as his caregiver experienced any kind of joy from the disease.

[JohnnyLib2]

4. Seems to me that much is "in the eye of the beholder."

I spent many hours with a younger sister during her long slide, including her last several years in a "memory unit" at a care facility.
She kept her smile and friendliness most of the time, but the losses were heartbreaking at best. We were fortunate, though; we saw many families deal with almost unthinkable behavior. The family members or others who visited regularly all tended to be patient, watchful, accepting of the way things were. Otherwise, people avoided or showed anger or tried to control what couldn't be controlled.

[Wait Wut]

8. I've heard so many sad stories.

I think my mother was one of the lucky ones. She became a happier person. But, it didn't start out that way. The beginning was frightening for everyone. I happened to be alone with her one day when she said, "I'm starting to worry. I keep forgetting things." I told her she'd be okay and that it happens to all of us. Her reply, "I'm scared." Those two words made me forgive her for a lifetime of indifference.

The family knew what was happening, but she refused to go to doctors. We just had to wait until it was "too late" and she couldn't resist.

[asjr]

6. The worst thing is when they have forgotten who you are.