15 years ago my husband had pancreatic cancer, surgery and still survived. 10 years ago he had a triple by-pass and survived. 5 years ago he had radiation for prostate cancer. But with each of these, we could fight them together, make decisions, choices and hope for a good outcome. We could hope that one morning he would wake up and feel better. All that is gone. My eyes see what is happening, but I keep thinking if he could just exercise a little more, get out a little more and etc. How do you learn accept that---this is what it is?
bobbie - I think it is with time we learn to accept it as best we can. I know after 7 years I can't remember what it use to be like. I take one day at a time trying not to dwell on what has been lost and what is to come.
Sorry you have to join us but this is a good group. Right now the discussions make it seem like every one has placed their spouse or their spouse has died, but there are still many of us out there just slowly chugging along.
Bobbie, Charlotte is so right. You must take one day at a time and not dwell on the what ifs. My husband also had serious medical issues the 5 years before his diagnosis--almost had to amputate his leg, heart attack, blood clots -but he survived and then was diagnosed with alz. In fact I believe it was all the surgeries and anesthesia that contributed to his dementia but it does not matter as the end is the same. You will get through it all because I did and there are many people here who have survived. The feelings you have are very normal. We keep thinking we can fix it. Part of the acceptance is that we cannot. God bless and come here as often as you need to. There is wonderful support here. This website was and is a lifeline for me and many others
Hi bobbie...not to belabor the point, but as others have said, one day at a time is the way to go. Looking back at the long years of Larry's mental decline...with a major cardiac crisis in 2009 and a major bout with serious pneumonia in 2011...I would say just hug him and kiss him and enjoy the pleasant moments you have together...whether he's impaired or not. Be kind and gentle with him and also be kind and gentle with yourself. It is hard to explain, but that is what I remember with the most happiness. Those good, sweet moments...maybe doing nothing more than sitting on the porch having coffee together...no matter how tired you are, or worried or impatient...make good moments and good memories amid the worry and fatigue, and you will be so glad you did. The Alzheimers is going to win, and of course we all do all the medical stuff we are supposed to along the way...but what I remember with the most satisfaction and a good, sweet feeling is just those little moments of our life together that don't sound like much of anything but mean the world to look back on.
(This post may not be making any sense...well, it's hard to explain.)
It always comes back to one day at a time. The problems start when I began to think about what to do if. Thank you for all the responses. I keep thinking, I could deal with one problem--either mental or physical---but not 2 at a time. But there are still good times, and like yall have said, it's at the strangest moments. Thank you, thank you
I remember one time when I told my husband that I wished he JUST had cancer. He didn't understand at all until I explained that at least then we would have had viable treatment options, hope for a cure, loving support from family and friends etc. Instead we were dealt the leprosy of today. No hope this side of Heaven and folks trample each other running the other way. I finally just leaned into God and realized that His overall plan for my life was in His hands. Now it is up to me to use the whole experience for some kind of good. I am really just now in the process of trying to discover what that will be. Enjoy what precious and fleeting moments of joy you two still have together.
Aunt B* I too have learned to lean into God and am trying to discover His new plan for my life now--hopefully to help others. Guess it just takes time and we cannot rush things. I went to my support group the other night and was questioning the group on how to "move on" whatever that means. The facilitator told me I had already started. It just does not feel like I am moving on or anything like that. It just feels like more and more grieving.
For those of you who still have your loved spouse alive, I would say to think in the same way you probably did when you had a little baby or child at home. I can remember accomplishing absolutely nothing, and if I brushed my teeth it was a good day. (Joke...sort of.) But those endless hours just sitting rocking the baby...or singing little songs...reading them their little books...helping them learn to eat their food as I wiped up under the highchair again and again...I remember all that so happily now. Happy, golden times...that now feel like they passed by in an eye blink. I tell young moms to this day that "rocking the baby" is a perfectly viable accomplishment, and so what if they do it for hours and don't clean the house.
Well, I'm honestly feeling very similar about the care years with Larry. I wasn't always at my best, or as loving as I should have been, but I really tried to be patient and kind. I was so relentlessly trying to get his meds into him, get him toileted, control that agitation toward the end...deal with poop, falls, the whole bit. Alzheimers care is a lot less satisfying than baby care, that's for sure. But just as I remember rocking the babies, but not the dustballs under the bed that never got vacuumed...I remember the touching of hands, the occasional smooch, the moments spent sitting together watching an old movie (until he got restless again), the sitting with him for every meal, no matter that he was spilling stuff all over and getting crumbs from here to eternity...I remember the good stuff more and more and the bad stuff less and less. So (OK, now I'm crying...sorry.) what I guess I'm saying is to try to love them no matter what...it's about love, really, when the chips are down, when things are as bad as they can possibly be...like that old saying, "Life's a bitch...then you die." Yup, that's Alzheimers all right. But the love remains, after all the hard work, heartbreak, ruined finances...the whole bit...what you will find, I think, is that life (and Alzheimers) ends, but love is timeless. So while you're taking it one painful day at a time, try to find the love wherever you can...because it will never be lost. (Boo-hoo-hoo. I am such a wimp. Have not cried for a while, but sure am now...waaaaaaah.)
Great talk!! I have found that even when your partner is in a residence all the things about love and patience still applies. Today I had to go and talk with staff about keeping Kevan mobile and not letting him sleep for 7 hours during the day and then he and I had a visit to discuss these things. He then asked if I was staying and I assured him I could stay for a bit but when my meter was about to run out he asked again if I could stay a little longer. When I said yes I could stay for another hour, he lite up and grabbed the change and ran out and put in the coins for the hour. He was so happy. When he came back he was very tired from all the excitement that we really just sat and were quiet. He spoke a little but just having me there seemed to be enough for him. He always walks me out then stand on the step and waves good bye. Now that brings me to tears!! I cry most of the way home and often stop around the corner so he won't see me cry. I don't think it matters where they live it is just so difficult.