Sharing a piece I wrote: Living in the Paradox of Alzheimer’s – a Family Member’s Birdseye View

duranls13

Paradox is defined as a thing that combines contradictory features or qualities. To live in a world where my dad has Alzheimer's disease is to live in paradox. This is evidenced by contradiction in the man himself, a former United States Air Force and commercial airline pilot, highly intelligent, organized and competent, now unable to manage his finances or give directions to well known destinations. 

The ways in which his disease has created paradox in my personal life are endless. For example, I am granted a reprieve from my angst when I cease fighting and surrender to the fact that my dad is changing in ways I find unacceptable, but this reprieve is revoked by fits of refusal to accept the thieving reality of what my dad refers to as his “affliction.”  The stupor I battle on a daily basis in response to his repetitive conversation finds counterpoint in the delight I feel at his fresh take on things like sunlight reflecting silver off the fluttering alder leaves. I find myself relaxing and lifted by his increasingly easy sense of humor, but distressed and uneasy when he can’t remember the name of his grandchildren. I feel strong and determined to care for him in his own home, but come apart at the seams when I think about what this may mean down the road when he is no longer able to feed himself and dribbles oatmeal, forgets my name, requires a diaper... I am relieved by the psychic’s suggestion that “it will go fast,” that our suffering may not be as protracted as for some but am devastated by grief when it hits that what we are actually referring to is the death of my beloved father.  

The paradoxical experience of loving someone with Alzheimer’s disease generates endless mental and emotional gymnastics, but the immutable reality that my dad will never get well, no matter how hard I try, is a brick wall that I can’t seem to stop crashing into.  Knowing what is likely in store for us has the power to put me into such a state of dread and fear that I can hardly breathe, and my nights are sometimes tormented by the question: how will I survive this?  Yet when I am able to just let go and be with what is, to relax in the joy of just being with my dad, I find myself lifted by gratitude and centered in the living goodness of the present moment.  This will be my saving grace. This is how I will survive.

Malka

I have been caring for my father since my mother passed away, 11 years ago. He was diagnosed with Alzheimers 7 years ago. My life is not what I expected it to be at all. I am almost 70 myself and thought he would have passed away by now. He carried on so when my mom died and constantly told me he wanted to join her. I thought after the stroke he would be gone shortly. To my surprise, and sadly not to my delight, he will be turning 95 in a month.

Alzheimer's is the slow water torture of death. I am so sorry you have started on this nightmare journey. Just now that there are so many of us out here struggling. I don't know if that helps you, but this board of others like me, has been a source of insight.

M