Descent into Alzheimer's Disease

I was determined to get out of the house to go to the library this morning. Mom wasn’t as enthusiastic about it. She got ready with no problem, and even went out the front door without a fight. That’s when the trouble began.

She immediately tried to get back inside (of course, I had already locked the door). I went to the car and opened the door for her and called to her. After a few times of trying the door, she came near the car, then veered off in the other direction. Then back up to the porch to begin her persistent testing of the door. I kept calling to her. She carried a chair out into the yard, then tried the door again.

“Mom, come on. Time to go.”

“Then GO!”

“Come on and go with me.”

“This is my house!” she retorts, trying the door once more.

I open my side and get in, starting the car. Her door hanging open, beckoning her.

“Mom, come on.” I say as cheerfully as I can muster.

She tries the front door again.

“We can’t get in the house now because it’s time to go to the library.” Perhaps I can convince her our house is just ‘closed’.

She shocks me as she walks around to try the back door. It has been months since she has thought to try a different door. I’m impressed, but I hurriedly turn off my engine and close all the doors to go after her just in case she decides to take off on me.

I find her on the back porch, trying the (thankfully) locked back door.

“Mom, it’s time to go to the library. The house is locked.”

She throws a disgusted glance my way and starts back down the steps, following me. I chatter away pleasantly, hoping she’ll forget she doesn’t want to come with me. As we approach the car she spouts, “You’re a big, big, big, big, big, big #$%^&!”

“Thank you, Mom.” I say sweetly as I open her door.

[Even in the depths of her illness, she knows I am being sarcastic when I respond with kindness to her hatefulness.]

She scowls at me and gets in. I pray I can get back around to my side of the car before she gets out.

We make it safely out of the driveway, but she isn’t happy. Nope. Not one bit.

I plug in a southern gospel tape and start to sing along. About three miles down the road I see her hand swing through the air. A couple of minutes later her fingers start to slap her knee, keeping time to the beat. She looks at me and giggles and by the time we got to the library, all was well. Ah, the wonders of music.

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Chris came home from work Thursday with an incredible tale. Seems a waitress working at AppleBee’s got a troubling call from home. The bank had called her house to report unusual activity on her credit card. She had used it two days prior, but was presently unable to locate it. She asked to leave to go call the bank and take care of things, but AppleBee’s was shorthanded and wouldn’t let her go.

Eventually, she waited on a party of three men. When it was time to pay, two of them paid cash and the other guy handed her HER credit card. Can you believe it?!? She managed to keep her composure and went and called the police. It took them a few minutes to get there and the guy was getting nervous. Two police cruisers rolled in and the guy walked out the front door. Unfortunately his friend was driving and he was still sitting in the restaurant. The thief went and sat in the car to wait for his friend. Well, the police went out and arrested him. Who knows why he didn’t leave on foot when he had the chance. Maybe his brains are as good as his luck?

Chris was thrilled that he had clocked out and was able to watch the entire incident unfold from the front lobby.

Speaking of Chris, he is at the beach this weekend with his friend, David. Next weekend it’s my turn and Carole will join me as we hope for a sunny weekend.

I visited Fellowship Baptist Church last week and plan to return in the morning. The pastor called me tonight. When I told him I was looking for a new church home, he replied, “Well, you’ve found it!” I think he may just be right.

Psalm 32:7 Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance. Selah