I've been consolidating a lot of paperwork, saving some of it digitally and recycling the paper. Among my boxes of goodies are most of the desk calendars I've filled since 1979, the year I got married. The pack rat in me just can't part with them completely, so I scanned them to revisit.
Yes, 1979 seems a long time ago. My entries start shortly after I graduated from college in May and returned home to Anderson, Indiana, to work and plan and pack until Roger and I got married July 21. His future employer, Caterpillar Tractor Co., back then, now Caterpillar Inc., helped us select that date because he started work in June as soon as he graduated, and we had to fit the wedding in during the company's traditional two-week July vacation. So, Saturday, the 21st, it was.
I worked at the daily newspaper at home while Roger started work and set up housekeeping in Peoria. I was watching every penny carefully as I found my detailed spending records jotted on the calendar pages. On June 1, I had two Cokes at 30 cents each, spent 88 cents on lunch and $1.35 on dinner. I really splurged the following day with 36 cents on a slush and $7 for a full tank of gas. On the 10th, I managed to get out of the grocery store and spend only $2.40.
On June 16, I boldly penned, "5 weeks!" until the big day. And then there's the phone number for some guy named Kevin … hmm …
I worked on a variety of stories for the newspaper that month, including a series on senior citizens with topics such as a senior center, an older adult conference and a session on death and dying. Ah, but there was also a lighthearted piece on musical gourds. Bigger hmm …
I drove to Peoria for a job interview on June 27 and got to see how Roger had decorated our new home. BIGGER hmm … And suddenly it was three weeks until this two-bedroom paradise was to be my address!
On July 1, I called hotels in Indianapolis to find a place for us to honeymoon for a few days. The Marriott was $49 for the first night, $25 the second night, and it included a champagne breakfast! Wow! Fancy stuff! Book it, Danno!
My last day of work was July 12, and I was busily filling in the back of the calendar that had space for budgeting and expenses. I was trying to be a responsible, yet frugal, bride. Monthly rent $245, electricity $25, annual renter's insurance $50. Cable TV? Where's a slot for that? Hmm …
I crossed out church donations and substituted cable.
My final days as a single woman all summed up neatly in an old calendar. What a sentimental hoot.
Now, if I could just remember who Kevin was … hmm … hmm …
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Wishing for a butter memory
Did you ever notice in a restaurant how pats of butter are usually wrapped individually in silver or gold foil when they're served with rolls or bread?
Sometimes they're solid from being refrigerated immediately before they're served, or they're kind of soft because they've been out for a while.
However you prefer yours, that shiny packaging often makes me think of fancy candy hidden inside, kind of tempting. Yes, it ruins many a diet because a lot of folks who use butter at the restaurant table wouldn't do the same at home. I guess there's something about unwrapping that glittery package that makes us crave it more.
Now, I know it's butter inside. You know it's butter inside. It's a condiment, not an item eaten solo, though I have known a few people that put on a slab of butter that's larger than the food it's decorating.
Imagine someone with Alzheimer's or dementia who sees that in the bread basket. This person can't read anymore and isn't communicating much verbally, so they're not going to ask what it is.
What do they see? What does shiny paper wrapped around something small represent? Could it be candy? It's got to be something special and sweet, like the precious and delicious treats of childhood … or any stage of our lives.
Why on earth am I even talking about this? Because I recently saw a person with Alzheimer's open one of those shiny pats of butter and roll it off the wrapper like it was candy and eat it.
What do you do? Nothing. If they thought it was candy, so what. Must have been okay because they didn't make a face. Do you scold them? Make a scene? Heavens no!
This is one of those moments in caregiving that you just let it slide … though you might subtly move the basket a little bit away. This is one of those moments that you will better comprehend what Alzheimer's has taken from your loved one: the memory of the difference between candy and butter in a shiny packet. Tuck this single image in a special place in your memory because it will make you smile one day, many days, when you need a lift the most.
Sometimes they're solid from being refrigerated immediately before they're served, or they're kind of soft because they've been out for a while.
However you prefer yours, that shiny packaging often makes me think of fancy candy hidden inside, kind of tempting. Yes, it ruins many a diet because a lot of folks who use butter at the restaurant table wouldn't do the same at home. I guess there's something about unwrapping that glittery package that makes us crave it more.
Now, I know it's butter inside. You know it's butter inside. It's a condiment, not an item eaten solo, though I have known a few people that put on a slab of butter that's larger than the food it's decorating.
Imagine someone with Alzheimer's or dementia who sees that in the bread basket. This person can't read anymore and isn't communicating much verbally, so they're not going to ask what it is.
What do they see? What does shiny paper wrapped around something small represent? Could it be candy? It's got to be something special and sweet, like the precious and delicious treats of childhood … or any stage of our lives.
Why on earth am I even talking about this? Because I recently saw a person with Alzheimer's open one of those shiny pats of butter and roll it off the wrapper like it was candy and eat it.
What do you do? Nothing. If they thought it was candy, so what. Must have been okay because they didn't make a face. Do you scold them? Make a scene? Heavens no!
This is one of those moments in caregiving that you just let it slide … though you might subtly move the basket a little bit away. This is one of those moments that you will better comprehend what Alzheimer's has taken from your loved one: the memory of the difference between candy and butter in a shiny packet. Tuck this single image in a special place in your memory because it will make you smile one day, many days, when you need a lift the most.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Blame it on the brain #2
What was that word … yes, aphasia.
Imagine knowing exactly what you want to say and that's not what comes out of your mouth. Some folks who have had aphasia have described it like being in that Biblical Tower of Babel. After a stroke, brain injury or disease, some have difficulty understanding what others are saying and sometimes others don't understand what they're saying. It's truly like a foreign language that leaves you frustrated.
And it's frustrating for loved ones who have to train themselves to communicate differently. They need to adopt a new level of patience and compassion because it takes time to make sure they understand each other. And that's a little hard in this fast-paced world that has become quite addicted to instant gratification and instant answers.
I've learned much just by taking that vital time to simply listen to someone tell you what's on their mind. Many that I've communicated with apologize for their difficulty, but I tell them it's okay. I'm there to listen even if they can't express every word they want when they want.
Yes, you can blame it on the brain that has some wires crossed. But remember this: aphasia is not a lost of intellect. People with aphasia are not "stupid." They communicate at different levels and many improve by practice, practice, practice.
Practice the art of listening. You never know when it may open the door to the most extraordinary conversation of your life.
Imagine knowing exactly what you want to say and that's not what comes out of your mouth. Some folks who have had aphasia have described it like being in that Biblical Tower of Babel. After a stroke, brain injury or disease, some have difficulty understanding what others are saying and sometimes others don't understand what they're saying. It's truly like a foreign language that leaves you frustrated.
And it's frustrating for loved ones who have to train themselves to communicate differently. They need to adopt a new level of patience and compassion because it takes time to make sure they understand each other. And that's a little hard in this fast-paced world that has become quite addicted to instant gratification and instant answers.
I've learned much just by taking that vital time to simply listen to someone tell you what's on their mind. Many that I've communicated with apologize for their difficulty, but I tell them it's okay. I'm there to listen even if they can't express every word they want when they want.
Yes, you can blame it on the brain that has some wires crossed. But remember this: aphasia is not a lost of intellect. People with aphasia are not "stupid." They communicate at different levels and many improve by practice, practice, practice.
Practice the art of listening. You never know when it may open the door to the most extraordinary conversation of your life.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Blame it on the brain #1
Say "aphasia."
Now, do you know what it means?
According to one of my dictionaries, it's "the partial or total inability to produce and understand speech as a result of brain damage caused by injury or disease."
Too sterile. I like the way the folks who have it have explained it to me. It's not so simply this: You have the word(s) in your mind, you know exactly what you want to say, but something else comes out instead or perhaps nothing at all.
While working on these brain-related books (brain injuries, strokes, brain tumors-brain cancer) I've been meeting a lot of individuals and families who cope with aphasia … a word that was likely never in their vocabulary until they had to deal with it.
Like the young, highly educated woman who had a stroke at about age 30 and when talking to her mom, sometimes "Dad" is what comes out. With a wink, her mom told me she only gets a little miffed when her daughter says "Grandma" instead of "Mom."
Blame it on the brain that's battling its way back from an injury, which could be from a stroke, disease or an external force. Not everybody who has those conditions has aphasia, and among those who have it, every case is different.
We'll talk about frustrating … next blog …
Now, do you know what it means?
According to one of my dictionaries, it's "the partial or total inability to produce and understand speech as a result of brain damage caused by injury or disease."
Too sterile. I like the way the folks who have it have explained it to me. It's not so simply this: You have the word(s) in your mind, you know exactly what you want to say, but something else comes out instead or perhaps nothing at all.
While working on these brain-related books (brain injuries, strokes, brain tumors-brain cancer) I've been meeting a lot of individuals and families who cope with aphasia … a word that was likely never in their vocabulary until they had to deal with it.
Like the young, highly educated woman who had a stroke at about age 30 and when talking to her mom, sometimes "Dad" is what comes out. With a wink, her mom told me she only gets a little miffed when her daughter says "Grandma" instead of "Mom."
Blame it on the brain that's battling its way back from an injury, which could be from a stroke, disease or an external force. Not everybody who has those conditions has aphasia, and among those who have it, every case is different.
We'll talk about frustrating … next blog …
Sunday, June 28, 2009
It's the Alzheimer's, stupid! #3
Where was I … oh, yeah, more "It's the Alzheimer's, stupid!"
What else angers caregivers?
Being told by clueless people that there's nothing wrong with their loved one because he looks "fine." That basically translates into: "The problem must be with YOU."
Well, world, I'm going to announce something that will shock you! Ready? Most folks with Alzheimer's look "fine." It's what we cannot see that is the problem.
You may see two healthy "seasoned" people getting out of their car in the handicapped parking space. They have the disabled plate or tag hanging off the rearview mirror. You watch them enter the store and think, "How dare they! There's nothing wrong with them! They're faking it!"
Well, many a caregiver has shared with me the "time bomb" that could go off without much notice in their loved one with Alzheimer's. They may have to end their shopping quickly at times for a variety of reasons, because their loved one may:
• Become agitated and/or uncomfortable by too many people or too much noise in the store.
• Wander away and get lost, even one aisle away.
• Start opening packages because their brains don't comprehend anymore that something doesn't belong to them until it's been paid for.
• Need to go to the bathroom but don't understand how to get into a stall by themselves. And it's OK for moms or dads to bring into their respective restrooms a young child of the opposite sex, but society has not gotten too keen yet on a husband needing to take his wife into a public restroom.
Yes, it's the Alzheimer's, stupid.
What else angers caregivers?
Being told by clueless people that there's nothing wrong with their loved one because he looks "fine." That basically translates into: "The problem must be with YOU."
Well, world, I'm going to announce something that will shock you! Ready? Most folks with Alzheimer's look "fine." It's what we cannot see that is the problem.
You may see two healthy "seasoned" people getting out of their car in the handicapped parking space. They have the disabled plate or tag hanging off the rearview mirror. You watch them enter the store and think, "How dare they! There's nothing wrong with them! They're faking it!"
Well, many a caregiver has shared with me the "time bomb" that could go off without much notice in their loved one with Alzheimer's. They may have to end their shopping quickly at times for a variety of reasons, because their loved one may:
• Become agitated and/or uncomfortable by too many people or too much noise in the store.
• Wander away and get lost, even one aisle away.
• Start opening packages because their brains don't comprehend anymore that something doesn't belong to them until it's been paid for.
• Need to go to the bathroom but don't understand how to get into a stall by themselves. And it's OK for moms or dads to bring into their respective restrooms a young child of the opposite sex, but society has not gotten too keen yet on a husband needing to take his wife into a public restroom.
Yes, it's the Alzheimer's, stupid.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Spread those angel wings, Farrah
Sadness swept me twice on Thursday. First, when I heard of Farrah Fawcett's passing after a brutal battle with cancer.
Second, when the news of her passing was tossed aside like garbage to make room for news of Michael Jackson's sudden death.
You would think the world had ended. Well, it almost did because the Internet was reportedly maxed out from the surge of news seekers and messages of shock.
If only the world would convert a fraction of its energy and money mourning Jackson's death into REAL action and compassion in helping REAL individuals and families cope with REAL catastrophic life events. The money that will be expended on Michael this and that would put a huge dent into funding research into fighting the cancer that killed Farrah and people you actually know.
The money that will be spent on magazines and other media about Michael's life and death would give thousands of families the respite they desperately need in coping with everyday caregiving, the REAL stuff that doesn't make the entertainment news because it's not sexy enough.
And the TIME, the precious moments of life that will be lost in over-consumption of news about Jackson's odd life could be converted into volunteerism to teach children to read, cheer the lives of shut-ins, or simply offer some kind deeds to help many people survive another day.
Our nation's obsession with celebrities is getting ridiculous. If the people who follow that show about the couple with a half-dozen kids or whatever applied the same amount of time to their own families as they do on watching and talking about that over-hyped garbage, imagine the possibilities.
To the people who will spend the coming days wailing about Jackson's demise … get a life, get your own life. To the children who think their lives are over because the King of Pop is dead … get some new REAL role models.
Farrah wasn't perfect. She had more than her share of "blonde moments." Her child is in jail. One of history's most famous sex symbols had to face the embarrassment of the world finding out she had anal cancer, but look how strong it made her. She never gave up and shared her story to encourage other patients to fight that damn disease with every ounce of energy they can muster because we are stronger than we will ever give ourselves credit for.
She earned those angel wings the hard way, the brave way, the human way.
I'm not heartless about Michael Jackson, who was born the same year I was. I hope he finds the peace he never found on this earth. I'm glad that he's not being subjected to one more person taking advantage of him and making money off him. He's left all that far behind.
It's time we as a society do the same and put our energy, time and money into a REAL life, our loved ones' lives, OUR life. You may not make the 24-hour news channel, and that could be the best news of all.
Second, when the news of her passing was tossed aside like garbage to make room for news of Michael Jackson's sudden death.
You would think the world had ended. Well, it almost did because the Internet was reportedly maxed out from the surge of news seekers and messages of shock.
If only the world would convert a fraction of its energy and money mourning Jackson's death into REAL action and compassion in helping REAL individuals and families cope with REAL catastrophic life events. The money that will be expended on Michael this and that would put a huge dent into funding research into fighting the cancer that killed Farrah and people you actually know.
The money that will be spent on magazines and other media about Michael's life and death would give thousands of families the respite they desperately need in coping with everyday caregiving, the REAL stuff that doesn't make the entertainment news because it's not sexy enough.
And the TIME, the precious moments of life that will be lost in over-consumption of news about Jackson's odd life could be converted into volunteerism to teach children to read, cheer the lives of shut-ins, or simply offer some kind deeds to help many people survive another day.
Our nation's obsession with celebrities is getting ridiculous. If the people who follow that show about the couple with a half-dozen kids or whatever applied the same amount of time to their own families as they do on watching and talking about that over-hyped garbage, imagine the possibilities.
To the people who will spend the coming days wailing about Jackson's demise … get a life, get your own life. To the children who think their lives are over because the King of Pop is dead … get some new REAL role models.
Farrah wasn't perfect. She had more than her share of "blonde moments." Her child is in jail. One of history's most famous sex symbols had to face the embarrassment of the world finding out she had anal cancer, but look how strong it made her. She never gave up and shared her story to encourage other patients to fight that damn disease with every ounce of energy they can muster because we are stronger than we will ever give ourselves credit for.
She earned those angel wings the hard way, the brave way, the human way.
I'm not heartless about Michael Jackson, who was born the same year I was. I hope he finds the peace he never found on this earth. I'm glad that he's not being subjected to one more person taking advantage of him and making money off him. He's left all that far behind.
It's time we as a society do the same and put our energy, time and money into a REAL life, our loved ones' lives, OUR life. You may not make the 24-hour news channel, and that could be the best news of all.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Dare to ignore those who need help the most
I'm not a scholar of the Bible but one phrase jumps out at me, and, depending on which version it is, it's something to this effect:
"Inasmuch as you have done it to one of the least of these my brothers, you have done it to me."
Now, it doesn't matter what religion you are, because this is beyond religious labels. This is the basis of our human existence and connection on this planet.
Well, Illinois, the lovely state where I've resided for almost 30 years … the home of a growing percentage of wacko politicians and embarrassing scandals … the land of a string of greedy, corrupt individuals … yes, Illinois, is out to make history again as we teeter on a wave of cutbacks that will prove disastrous to the people who can do little or nothing for themselves, the disabled through birth, accident, disease or crime …
We now have a governor and legislature that are trying to wade out of this mess created by years of misplaced priorities, feeding pet projects, building monuments to themselves, mindless wastes of money, and simple loss of connection with the everyday lives families and individuals face.
It's time for politicians to stop being politicians. It's time to stop playing this political game of "I'll do this for you if you'll do this for me," tacking ridiculous self-serving amendments onto meaningful legislation or selling the souls of one segment of society to overstuff another. It's time to get past protocols that embellish egos so brightly that some people can't seem to stop admiring themselves in the mirror while many worlds fall into shambles around them. It's time to quit filling government job openings or college slots with friends and families and neighbors who don't have the credentials to do the job or who waste the professor's time.
We are a nation at the brink of collapsing … one individual at a time … and it's happening. Take away the respite care that gives caregivers the break they need … take away the group homes that provide specialized care and a unique emotional support system … take away the nursing home beds that provide essential 24-hour care in our loved ones' final days … take away the after-school and summer programs for children who are an inch away from becoming a casualty statistic in the streets … take away the mental health services that target those who have lost control of their lives …
Go ahead, dare to ignore those who need help the most.
Do that, and we will pay a price that is beyond the calculating capabilities of the most sophisticated minds and computers in the world.
Do that, and we will witness a wave of chaos, frustration, anger, abuse, abandonment and even death, because the human emotional support system will have been severed, stretched and stretched and stretched to a point where it snaps like an old dried out rubber band that falls in brittle pieces to the floor.
And I don't know about the rest of the country, but now Illinois has stopped funding the burial of indigents … just in time for summer when temperatures and tempers are already hot enough.
We all must accept responsibility for our fellow human beings, but we cannot pick up all the pieces when people refuse to fulfill their obligation as parents, as children, as spouses, as family, as friends, as employees, as bosses, as public servants … choosing instead to feed their own selfish needs and sing loud enough to drown out the cries around them.
The PEOPLE of Illinois, of any state, need to stand up and remember that those who need our help the most should not be the easiest to discard. These individuals didn't ask for birth defects, Alzheimer's, a drunk driver to hit them, to be shot in the head …
If we can't remember that first quote about caring for the least of our brothers, then give this one a try: "There but for the grace of God go I."
"Inasmuch as you have done it to one of the least of these my brothers, you have done it to me."
Now, it doesn't matter what religion you are, because this is beyond religious labels. This is the basis of our human existence and connection on this planet.
Well, Illinois, the lovely state where I've resided for almost 30 years … the home of a growing percentage of wacko politicians and embarrassing scandals … the land of a string of greedy, corrupt individuals … yes, Illinois, is out to make history again as we teeter on a wave of cutbacks that will prove disastrous to the people who can do little or nothing for themselves, the disabled through birth, accident, disease or crime …
We now have a governor and legislature that are trying to wade out of this mess created by years of misplaced priorities, feeding pet projects, building monuments to themselves, mindless wastes of money, and simple loss of connection with the everyday lives families and individuals face.
It's time for politicians to stop being politicians. It's time to stop playing this political game of "I'll do this for you if you'll do this for me," tacking ridiculous self-serving amendments onto meaningful legislation or selling the souls of one segment of society to overstuff another. It's time to get past protocols that embellish egos so brightly that some people can't seem to stop admiring themselves in the mirror while many worlds fall into shambles around them. It's time to quit filling government job openings or college slots with friends and families and neighbors who don't have the credentials to do the job or who waste the professor's time.
We are a nation at the brink of collapsing … one individual at a time … and it's happening. Take away the respite care that gives caregivers the break they need … take away the group homes that provide specialized care and a unique emotional support system … take away the nursing home beds that provide essential 24-hour care in our loved ones' final days … take away the after-school and summer programs for children who are an inch away from becoming a casualty statistic in the streets … take away the mental health services that target those who have lost control of their lives …
Go ahead, dare to ignore those who need help the most.
Do that, and we will pay a price that is beyond the calculating capabilities of the most sophisticated minds and computers in the world.
Do that, and we will witness a wave of chaos, frustration, anger, abuse, abandonment and even death, because the human emotional support system will have been severed, stretched and stretched and stretched to a point where it snaps like an old dried out rubber band that falls in brittle pieces to the floor.
And I don't know about the rest of the country, but now Illinois has stopped funding the burial of indigents … just in time for summer when temperatures and tempers are already hot enough.
We all must accept responsibility for our fellow human beings, but we cannot pick up all the pieces when people refuse to fulfill their obligation as parents, as children, as spouses, as family, as friends, as employees, as bosses, as public servants … choosing instead to feed their own selfish needs and sing loud enough to drown out the cries around them.
The PEOPLE of Illinois, of any state, need to stand up and remember that those who need our help the most should not be the easiest to discard. These individuals didn't ask for birth defects, Alzheimer's, a drunk driver to hit them, to be shot in the head …
If we can't remember that first quote about caring for the least of our brothers, then give this one a try: "There but for the grace of God go I."
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
It's the Alzheimer's, stupid! #2
Let's keep tweaking this "It's the Alzheimer's, stupid!"
What else angers caregivers?
How about asking the caregiver or family member all about the disease when that person is right there. You know, questions like, "So, how long has he got?" or "You are going to be put her in a nursing home, aren't you?"
People with Alzheimer's aren't stupid. Now, people who ask those terribly insensitive questions, that's another thing …
Hmm, it's kind of hard to explain Alzheimer's and how it's a horrific, fatal disease while the person with it is right there. Imagine hearing every day that you have a fatal disease and that your brain is all screwed up and so on and so on. And if you have memory loss, it's like hearing the diagnosis for the first time every time.
Imagine the physical and emotional toll that takes. I know one family that stopped talking about the loved one's cancer in front of him because his Alzheimer's made it devastating to hear every time.
If you want to learn first-hand more about Alzheimer's, then ask the caregiver or family member off to the side and then be willing to hear the answer. (Just don't point at the person with the disease because they notice those sort of things and it makes them uncomfortable.)
I can guarantee that everybody has a different answer because Alzheimer's doesn't follow rules of logic or consistency … or mercy.
It's that damn Alzheimer's, stupid!
What else angers caregivers?
How about asking the caregiver or family member all about the disease when that person is right there. You know, questions like, "So, how long has he got?" or "You are going to be put her in a nursing home, aren't you?"
People with Alzheimer's aren't stupid. Now, people who ask those terribly insensitive questions, that's another thing …
Hmm, it's kind of hard to explain Alzheimer's and how it's a horrific, fatal disease while the person with it is right there. Imagine hearing every day that you have a fatal disease and that your brain is all screwed up and so on and so on. And if you have memory loss, it's like hearing the diagnosis for the first time every time.
Imagine the physical and emotional toll that takes. I know one family that stopped talking about the loved one's cancer in front of him because his Alzheimer's made it devastating to hear every time.
If you want to learn first-hand more about Alzheimer's, then ask the caregiver or family member off to the side and then be willing to hear the answer. (Just don't point at the person with the disease because they notice those sort of things and it makes them uncomfortable.)
I can guarantee that everybody has a different answer because Alzheimer's doesn't follow rules of logic or consistency … or mercy.
It's that damn Alzheimer's, stupid!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
It's the Alzheimer's, stupid! #1
Let's twist the phrase that helped elect Bill Clinton … "It's the economy, stupid!" to "It's the Alzheimer's, stupid!"
Would that be a catchy enough phrase to attract and educate several generations that had better get used to that A-word and what it really means?
What angers caregivers?
Let's start with talking about the person with Alzheimer's as if they're not standing or sitting there. I know I've said this one before, but it needs constant repeating: They may not remember you or your name, but they remember the pain of being ignored or treated like a child. Acknowledge and engage them, even if they may not say much, because it's the Alzheimer's that's keeping them from finding the right, if any, words to participate in a conversation.
But they're still human and need to connect with other humans. You can be a quiet comfort by just acknowledging they're still HERE!!
Would that be a catchy enough phrase to attract and educate several generations that had better get used to that A-word and what it really means?
What angers caregivers?
Let's start with talking about the person with Alzheimer's as if they're not standing or sitting there. I know I've said this one before, but it needs constant repeating: They may not remember you or your name, but they remember the pain of being ignored or treated like a child. Acknowledge and engage them, even if they may not say much, because it's the Alzheimer's that's keeping them from finding the right, if any, words to participate in a conversation.
But they're still human and need to connect with other humans. You can be a quiet comfort by just acknowledging they're still HERE!!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Go ahead! Teach the world about Alzheimer’s!
Yep, you’ve listened to the medical lingo, you’ve read all the “facts” about Alzheimer’s, you’ve witnessed its effects every day.
You could write THE book about this damn disease!
Well, do it! Start telling the world about this horrific disease because a lot of people are not paying attention. They’re ignoring the fact that Mom or Dad or Uncle Joe or Aunt Bea or whoever is having problems with memory or social skills. They blame whoever’s living in the same house with them for “letting it happen” or for telling lies.
Teach the world NOW how to help your loved one, how to help you. Don’t wait until you’re too exhausted to educate or they’re too far away emotionally to listen.
You could write THE book about this damn disease!
Well, do it! Start telling the world about this horrific disease because a lot of people are not paying attention. They’re ignoring the fact that Mom or Dad or Uncle Joe or Aunt Bea or whoever is having problems with memory or social skills. They blame whoever’s living in the same house with them for “letting it happen” or for telling lies.
Teach the world NOW how to help your loved one, how to help you. Don’t wait until you’re too exhausted to educate or they’re too far away emotionally to listen.
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