JOAN’S BLOG – MON/TUE, MAY 18/19, 2009 – WHEN DOES THE ANGER STOP?

No matter what medicine is taken, no matter what professional speaks with him, no matter what I say or do in my previous professional capacity as “therapist”, rather than “spouse”, my husband’s anger is a simmering volcano, ready to erupt at any time. Even he admits that it is an obsession he cannot control. It is all about him, his needs, his losses, his rage, and no matter who he hurts or who he offends, he does not care. His own anger takes precedence.

His obsession is analogous to a scratched record. Most of us are old enough to remember records and what happened when the phonograph needle came in contact with a scratch on the record. That section played over and over and over again, until the needle was moved off of the scratch to an unblemished portion of the record. In Sid’s case, there is damage (a scratch) on the portion of the brain that controls obsession. Once he thinks about his loss of independence, that angry thought is the needle on the damaged (scratched) portion of the brain, and there is no way to stop the repetitiveness, until the medication temporarily removes the needle, or the Alzheimer Devil takes a break from holding down that needle. Until that happens, if you are in his path, you will be subject to his complaining with no way to turn him off. You are going to hear it until your eyes roll back into your head. I have learned to ignore it, because the medication has tempered the rages against me into subtle, constant references and taunts.

Many years ago, I learned from a therapist that anger is a secondary emotion. It is in response to another emotion that is not being expressed. I believe that in my husband’s case, the wild, irrational, unrelenting anger over losing his driving, thus his independence, may actually be fear – fear that he is losing control over this disease; fear of what he knows is his future with this disease; fear that he cannot stop the future.

I have been told that the anger will stop. But the trade-off is no better. It will stop when he advances far enough into the disease that he forgets about his loss of independence. Well, now that isn’t exactly what I anticipate looking forward to. Such is the cruelty and viciousness of Alzheimer’s Disease.

This will probably sound out of place to some, but these blogs are my innermost thoughts, so bear with me. Our last dog was a Golden Retriever whom we adored. I cannot describe how funny, quirky, lovable, intelligent, and fabulous Casey was. But he was an Alpha Dog – the dominant one. He was effusive in his love and cuddling, EXCEPT for kisses and eye contact. He let us kiss him, but he never kissed back, nor would he look us in the eye. I had this fantasy in my head that when the end came, he would look me in the eye with love and kiss me. When that time came, the vet brought him out (he had been in the vet hospital), and I became hysterical. I was sobbing uncontrollably. Casey came right up to me, nose to nose, and kissed the tears off of my face. I have this fantasy that when the end comes, my husband will look at me with love, and say, “I’m sorry.”

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