The Voice of Reason

Her once good rationale is all but gone now. Short term memory is one thing but reason and the ability to grasp simple concepts is apparently more important to successful day to day living than remembering how to do something. DH told her on Saturday, again, that she is never going to be able to drive her car again. They had, what he thought, was an honest, in depth discussion about the Alzheimer’s and her continuing loss of memory, something as simple as being unable to turn on her computer, which she has been doing daily for ten years. Or not being able to figure out how to turn on the TV even with simple instructions in front of her. Or adding and subtracting in her bank register. The list is growing.

But those things, while they do impact function, do not take precedence over her lack of understanding why she cannot drive and why we moved her from her house to the trailer. No matter how many times we have told her, and regardless the simple terms we use, she still does not understand that she complained daily that she was tired of living by herself. Even as we were making the plans to move her to the family property, I knew there would be something for her to complain about once it was done. She is a complainer by nature and that has nothing to do with her AD. But I did think, once she had so much more time with family and being there within steps of someone to help her if she needed it, she would settle in. But I knew, nevertheless, whether she adjusted or not, the biggest problem of her being alone in her house, several miles away, especially at night, would be resolved, or at least eased, so moving her was as much about our ability to take care of her better as it was about her dissatisfaction with her life the way it was.

In calm conversation she will agree that something is wrong with her, that she doesn’t want to be alone in her house, especially at night. But any time an opportunity arises for her to complain to someone else, she will say, “My relatives think I have Alzheimer’s but there’s nothing wrong with me.” and “I don’t know why I am in this trailer, I ought to just go home and sleep in my own house.”

I’m a problem solver. This means any time I am confronted with a problem I instantly kick into high gear, searching for solutions often to the point of obsession. I know I can’t cure her. I know it’s going to go downhill from here, maybe even to the worse case scenario of having to put her in a 24/7 care facility. But still I find much of my day devoted to seeking and thinking of innovative ways to resolve this dilemma of Mary’s decline. How to deal with it? How to deal with her daily issues? How to make her be something she can't be anymore - reasonable.

So far, I’ve got nothing.

The reason for that is the lack of reason. Even if I found the exact right words that she might understand, tomorrow she will have forgotten completely. And this is truly the diabolical, devastating, indeed evil, result of this disease.