JOAN’S BLOG – WED/THUR, DECEMBER 28/29, 2011 – DAY CARE – FIRST DAY

No, it was nothing like sending my 3 year-old to pre-school for the first time. As I took my husband to the Alzheimer’s “Activities Center” (aka Day Care) for the first time this morning, I honestly thought I was going to throw up. My apologies if my indelicate, honest account is distasteful, but sharing my deepest feelings is what these blogs are about.

How could this be? How did we end up like this? Those were the thoughts going through my mind as I dropped my husband off into the Land of the Demented Day Camp. Where was my Sid? Where was the Sid whose big bear arms always enveloped and protected me when I felt as sick and emotionally distraught as I did at that moment? He was being led away by an aide to play games with the rest of the demented campers. I said goodbye, turned around, went into the bathroom and cried. I cried for the life we had; I cried for the man he used to be; I cried for the man he had become; I cried for the wife I was no longer.

Then I went home and worried that he was going to hate it; that he was going to be violently angry with me for sending him; and that he was going to refuse to go again. I took my sadness, fears, and anxieties to physical therapy with me, and was calmed with strong hands kneading the tension out of my shoulder and back.

I was almost as nervous going to pick him up as I was when I took him 5 hours earlier. I met one of the aides in the hallway, who informed me that he had a wonderful time, participated in the activities, and told her that he liked it. Yes, well, I certainly did not expect her version to be negative.

When I opened the door to the activities room, my husband was sitting in a group, singing songs. To my utter astonishment, as he was leaving, he said to the aides, “See you tomorrow.” I held my breath, and asked him how it was. He said it was okay, but he was disappointed that most of the people were at least 10 years older than him. I reminded him that his friend will begin attending in a few weeks. He said he had more activity than he had in years, and he was exhausted. He could not wait to go home and take a nap. On the way home ( a less than 20 minute ride), I asked him what else he did, and he said he could not remember.

How do I feel now that his first day was what could be called successful? Am I relieved? Am I happy? Yes, I guess I am relieved that he did not throw a tantrum and refuse to ever go again. But mostly I am sad. Sad that we have come to this point in our journey. Sad that the activities were actually appropriate for my husband. Sad at what he has become. Sad that I live this life. Just plain sad.

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