Caregiver's Dementia

They call it Caregiver's Dementia and I've got it.

I lost my Barnes & Nobel Nook two weeks ago and my glasses and debit card this morning. Fortunately, I "remembered" where the latter two items were, but not the first. The thing is, I'm getting shaky and flustered when this happens, which makes it impossible to remember what I'm trying to remember when I'm trying to remember it.

This feels more like a panic attack.

I think the first step towards swimming my way out of this raging ocean is to stop reading books about dementia and Alzheimer's Disease. I feel like I did in college when I took a psychology class and thought that I had contracted every malady mentioned in the text.

I think the second step is to practice some sort of meditation or relaxation exercise. I know that forced thinking of any kind just makes my mind go blank. Things start to "pop" into my head only when I'm feeling calm and confident. My state of being during these times is the opposite of confident. That doesn't portend well for my job performance either. Fortunately, mom is not at the office.

The third thing I should do is to get some rest.

Today I came home to a mother who thought I owed her $10,000 (again). These sorts of accusations just compound that quaking feeling I have inside. Rather than put her rants in their proper place (which is to set them aside and in a box somewhere until I can muster the energy to deal with them) I began digging through her bank accounts, my bank accounts, and other assorted accounts, printing off materials that would show her where her money had gone (she transfers money from one account to the other, sometimes between as many as 3 accounts in the same day). This took most of my afternoon, somehow exhausted me more and probably won't do me a bit of good in reasoning with her.

Now I have to look forward to figuring out how to deal with her in paying her caregiver directly (which we will eventually be reimbursed for) which may require us to issue a 1099 and pay payroll taxes. I could deal with that. It's just dealing with her confusion over payments and reimbursements that is sure to push her over the edge and cause me more unease.

Good Reads on the Tough Topic of Dementia

Denial appears to be very functional, particularly for persons with dementia. I know. I live with one (mom's caregiving company "fired us" this last Friday; and I appear to be the only one preoccupied with this. She seems to be unconcerned). Family members heap on an added layer of indifference, to wit: my family asked me, "What's your Plan B?" Notice the possessive pronoun in that question.

It's rough. But, bring in the following excellent books to the rescue.


I've recommended Still Alice by Lisa Genova to many, but what I find missing in that book is an illustration of the behavioral component of dementia, which in my opinion is much worse than the memory loss. What may make that book less helpful to families is that it is fiction that reads like great non-fiction (but it's truly not and therefore misses the mark on truthfulness). It is written by a PhD Neuroscientist about a woman with Early Onset AD, which is an unusual form of AD, and spares familys, comparatively, with its fast decline.

I said comparatively.

I just finished reading, Keeper by Andrea Gillies, that fills that gap in the literature. It is more of a biography of the author's elderly mother-in-law and her life with Alzheimer's Disease (late mid-stage and late-stage I would say) which not only includes all of the emotional and behavioral complications involved, it, by necessity, highlights them. The book is about the disease of a family, as AD or dementia in general, impacts everyone in the family it touches. The family's decline, particularly the author's is as marked as that of the sufferer, "Nancy," her mother-in-law. And because it is true and written by an excellent writer, it is wincingly exposing. I can see myself in every mean thought, every instinct to run away, every instinct to feel self pity, and particularly in what is now my paranoia in my dealings with the geriatric professionals, clinical and social worky, from agencies brought into help. I'm not a good self censurer, and have said way too much to the caregiving agency about my state and my mother's situation. If I had read this book first, I would have been more guarded.

Live and Learn.

Both books are beautifully written. Both include helpful information about AD, and its stages and types.