My husband has no idea who I am. He is polite to me, seems grateful for what I do for him. I do not take this personally. He does not know who his children, grandchildren or brothers are either. He occasionally asks me to call his wife and have her come get him. My proble how I should relate to him. I'm afraid to show much affection since he seems to think I'm the hired help and sometimes looks at me as if I'm the hired help. He doesn't seem to realize I pay the bills, take care of the house, get him to doctors appointments, clean up after him and make all the decisions. It's such a strange way to live.
Katlady 37 I'm happy you brought up this subject. My K is lossing his memory fast now and I have been concerned about how I will live with this as well as all the rest of the changes. I get the impression that you seem to be handling this well so far. I hope I can not take it personally when he says call my wife. I'm sure someone will join in soon to give us some idea how we may be able to handle this. Hugs
I just didn't take it personally when he didn't seem to know who I was. I remember one time when I went to give him a hug and a kiss, he looked very uncomfortable...kind of stiffened up...said he didn't think his wife would approve. Obviously it was one of those times when he thought I was a hired aide...so I just backed off and I imagine he forgot all about it. It didn't really bother me. Sigh...Alzheimers.
My husband has not known me as his wife for several years, also before he entered the nursing home two years ago. I usually watch the way he reacts when he sees me. Sometimes he half starts a hug, other times it is clear a warm "Hi, great to see you" or something like that is better. Same when I leave, though by then he usually realizes I am familiar, and he does not mind a hug and a kiss on his forehead. Try to let him set the tone. And you are so right not to take it personally. If he knew what he was doing, he would be heart broken. Glad it is only one of us...
katlady, It must be very hard on you to have him ask for his wife, but I think you're right not to take it personally because if you did, it would drive you crazy. I think you should act in whatever way makes him comfortable. My husband is in LTC and when I see him, I try to convey by everything I do that I am his friend and that he can trust me. So I always act like I'm delighted to see him and when I talk to him I smile and use a upbeat but calm tone of voice.
My wife one day when she was still fairly aware asked me if I minded her asking if I was a musician. That was a shocking day. One of many. In later months she fretted how she would get home or would suddenly worry that she wasn't supposed to be here with me.
Alzheimer's destroys working synapses by building up plaque on them. It doesn't prevent the brain from making new memories or forming new associations. So while my wife's memories and ability to use reason with them was being destroyed, she was also learning to trust me. Eventually not knowing who I was didn't matter and she just took my hand and followed along with me.
Ultimately the most basic mechanisms for coherence broke down and my wife remained 'in the moment' because of that for a number of years. She was calm in real life and she was calm then too.
It was all very strange I agree. In some ways it's mental illness except we know exactly why. And in some ways it's watching our partner regress to toddler again. Towards the end I fed her pablum and had to watch that the spoon didn't hit her teeth while her head movements were increasingly uncontrolled.
She was in a wonderful place but it was still one flew over the cuckoo's nest. The Italian fellow singing opera trying to keep his pants up. The woman with the evil sneer always trying to get her hand in my pants. The woman with fabulous diction holding court with three other imaginary people every day. The woman who kept weeping and crying that she couldn't. The woman who kept rocking and asking when she could go home. The frail woman who always slept. And my own Dianne, the bright business woman, staring into space with her mouth open, a hundred years old. They took wonderful care of her but I'm glad I don't go there anymore. I hope that all of you can stay strong. I didn't but maybe you can.
Wolf, I think you did stay strong. Just getting through all of this takes strength. Listen to me! When people tell ME that, I feel like they're full of s**t. I am anything but strong, sobbing through the days, still terrified to go to places my husband and I went to together, which is virtually every place around here. I had to go to the Post Office the other day and passed 20 places that made me cry. I can't go to Home Depot, the grocery stores, the hardware store, the thrift store, the drug store, the gas station we went to, the beach, the mountains, the desert. I can't walk down our street. I can barely stand driving down our street. I can't to the gym, the doctor's office (which is tough because we had the same doctor), I can't go near the place where my husband worked, which is near the Post Office, which is why it was barely tolerable when I had to go there. I can't go in our back room, our workroom where we spent so much time together. Since I'm pouring out my pathetic-ness, I might as well admit here that I can't go in our side yard or our back yard. I tell the landscaper to clean it up, when he asks if it looks alright, I just say yes. This is so awful.