Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Reflecting, Summing Up and Signing Off

One of the things I wanted to do with this blog was share the story of living with dementia. It turned out not to be a very typical story though, because it was complicated by my husband's physical ailments. We both experienced them as much worse problems than his mental condition.

Luckily he never progressed beyond 'mild to moderate' Alzheimer's, with the help of medication. The medication had to be monitored and tweaked — as did all his medication for the physical ills — and ironically we had it just about right at the end. But things like infections or high blood sugar would exacerbate his confusion.

Even mild to moderate Alzheimer's can be a problem, of course. Basically I had to live in the moment; things could change suddenly, without warning. He'd be lucid one minute, then in some other reality. I had to be very flexible, responding to whatever was so at the time. I didn't always manage it very well, because there was no way I could anticipate where his mind would take him.

In the end his body broke down in all sorts of ways. His time had come. The doctors think he had a series of tiny strokes, too small to show up on a scan. I think so too.

He never got aggressive with me, never failed to recognise me or other people he cared for, and remained loving and caring right up to the end.

Now I begin the strange journey of widowhood, but that doesn't belong in this blog. I'll probably post on that subject at SnakyPoet. [Later: NO, I created another blog. Details in next (and final) post here.]

I'll leave this blog here as an archive, for whatever use it might be to others.

Thanks for reading!

Monday, September 3, 2012

Completion

My beautiful man passed away today about 3.40 in the afternoon. The nursing home phoned me just after breakfast so I went straight there and our dear friend Maureen joined me there, and we sat with him all day. The nursing home fed us, and we reminisced about him and his life, and talked to him too, and held his hands, knowing he could feel and hear us although he was unable to respond. He was very peaceful and comfortable all day, and went quickly and easily. He did wonderful things in his life, and was a treasured friend and mentor to many. I have been very blessed to have 20 years with this incredibly loving man.