Far, far away. And Gone.

Sundowning. Can you imagine your elder mom being diagnosed at 95 with Alzheimer's (finally, after years of generalized 'dementia')? You, in an effort to care for her, experience an episode that is indescribably terrifying. The light of the day starts to fade and, well, twilight, begins. She becomes rather agitated, pacing around her home. She insists she must "get home". You try to assure her that she IS home, but no, she'll have none of that nonsense. It's nonsense to her. She wrings her hands, wonders aloud again and again and again, "When can we go home?" You try to rationalize, explain that THIS is home. You show her things that belong to her, framed photographs, that lamp, her chair. Her eyes are rabid and uncompromising. You offer her a glass of wine to calm her down. "Let's just chillax," you say. And then the bottle of wine that you've brought out becomes foreign too. "That's not our wine! We can't drink that..." she wails. So, quick thinking, you offer to "pay" for the wine, and lay down $20. "This will take care of it," you assure her. It only makes things worse. She gets up, pulls her coat on, is heading for the door. Quick-thinking again, you grab your keys and go along. What to do? You wind up in the car, driving aimlessly as if you're taking her "home", which by now is her childhood home in Idaho. Far, far away. And gone. That's all she wants...is to go home. You remember feeling that way as a child. Now your elderly mom is like a child, trapped and pleading. Three hours later, nearly out of gas, she's exhausted, her voice frail. You describe for her landmarks as you pass them in the night. You're heading back to where you started. She is still edgy but shot. When you get back to the house, you say, "Stay here..." and you, quick, run inside to turn on the lights, pour her a nightcap of water with a little splash of bourbon, place it on the table next to her chair. You lead her in carefully. "See? There's the two white couches. There are the purple chairs." You're pointing out the obviously familiar, yet no longer familiar to her. She relents. She sinks into her chair. She sips the drink you've made for her. Soon you'll be able to help her into her pajamas and into bed. Soon you'll both fall asleep.

#alzheimers #caregivers #nationalalzheimersmonth #compassion ??