On an Autumn day my mother began a journey into a world of confusion. I didn't realize then that she would not be taking this journey alone, but that I would also book passage on her voyage into this world of madness and that my life would be changed forever.
Alzheimer's is a dreadful disease. The symptoms are difficult to see at first because forgetfulness becomes more prevalent when we get older. We are all absent minded sometimes. Many times I've gone to get something only to find out when I got there I couldn't remember what I was going to get. This is normal, but what happened to my mom that day wasn't.
My father died in 1981. During his long illness my mother stood by his side. Her courage and strength was an example of her loving and kind spirit. When he died her grief was overwhelming. My father had been the head of the house. My mother had never balanced a checkbook or driven a car. She had been totally dependent on him, and with his passing I would have to become the one that would take his place.
In the years after my father's death, I taught mom how to drive. I showed her how to balance a checkbook. On the days she was sad, I tried to cheer her up, and on the days she was not so sad I tried to teach her to laugh again. I managed the house, mowed the grass, and tried to take care of the things she couldn't.
My mother and me were always very close, that's why I blamed myself for not noticing the signs of Alzheimer's in the beginning. I should have realized something was wrong when she repeated stories over and over during my visits, but I was too busy. Busy with my job and my family. I deluded myself into believing there was nothing wrong. I convinced myself that what was happening was a normal part of growing old.
Bells should have gone off when she told me stories about how the insurance agent was following her around town and trying to have sex with her, or when she was waiting in the doctors examination room and a young boy entered wanting to examine her. I worried about these changes but I still tried to convince myself they were normal. All of my delusions were shattered on that autumn day in 1996.
After I had finished mowing the yard, I was in the kitchen talking to my mother. She told me that someone was trying to steal her car. She heard voices outside the other night and it sounded like the car door being opened. I went to look at her car and couldn't find anything wrong. On my way back to the house, I started asking myself some questions. Why was everything going wrong for my mother? It seemed in the last two months her problems had increased dramatically. She was not only repeating herself more, but she was becoming more confused.
In the years after my father died, my mother had been spending summers with her brother in Kentucky. I'd paid her bills while she was gone. We decided it would be easier if my name was amended to her checking account. It would make it easier for me to pay her bills. I took her checkbook out of the desk. I opened it and looked inside, my heart sank. She had made so many mistakes. I asked her why there were so many mistakes, she casually replied she didn't know much about keeping records, they confused her.
I talked it over with my brother. We came to the decision that maybe she was depressed because it was so close to the anniversary of my dad's death. I decided to keep an eye on the situation in case it got worse. It didn't take long. She became obsessed with the idea she owned another house. I tried to tell her there was no other house but she wouldn't listen. The more I tried to convince her of that fact, the more adament she became. I would drive her to the place she said her other house was located. When we got there she would say she had made a mistake, but after we got home she would start ranting about her other house again.
I got upset with her but there was nothing I could do or say that would change her mind. Much later as the disease got worse, I learned you are not supposed to confront or disagree with an Alzheimer's patient because it confuses them. If I had known this a lot earlier I don't think I would have been so frustrated. I would get upset with her sometime. I thought she was trying to get attention that this was just an act so everyone would feel sorry for her because sometimes she acted perfectly normal.
Finally, late in 1996 I made an appointment with the doctor. I told him all about the trouble she was having, like the belief that she owned another house. I told him about her inability to balance her checkbook. After he examined her, I was told her blood sugar was a little high, but all of the other symptoms were typical for a woman of her age. I tried telling him this was not normal for my mother. She had never acted this way before. He assured me that it was all right, but I didn't believe him. He took our money and we left.
In November of 1996, I noticed a decisive change in her attitude. After all the years of living by herself, she suddenly became afraid of living alone. I was seeing her every day now. I noticed every time my car came in view of her house she would be staring out of the window. Sometimes I would enter the driveway with my lights off, walk up to the front and watch her. She would be walking from room to room like she was looking for someone or something, talking to herself. When she got tired of walking she would sit down in front of the window and stare.
I started getting calls from neighbors. They were concerned about mom's strange behavior. For Christmas one year, my brother had given her a gun. I took it from her house and replaced it with a water pistol. She slept with it under her pillow and never noticed the difference.
Later that month, mom began to see people that were not there. She became afraid of being evicted from her own house. I made another appointment with the doctor. He told me what she was doing was a little odd, but nothing to worry about, maybe a mild depression. In older people that was normal, once again I tried to explain what was happening to my mother was not normal. She was changing drastically in front of my eyes. He assured me the situation was typical for a woman her age, then he took our money and we left.
I know this sounds callous but I will have to say something in the doctor's defense. My mother was becoming a good actor. When someone was around she guarded her actions carefully. So careful that others had difficulty believing there was anything wrong with her. Still, he was a doctor and he should have known something was wrong.
By the end of 1996, mom was becoming very agitated over the smallest incidents. She was always nervous, walking cointinuously and talking about all the other people in her house keeping her awake at night. One afternoon she seemd worse than usual. She kept talking about her other house, and how she couldn't get any sleep at night because of all the loud people wandering around the house. I couldn't calm her down and I couldn't leave her in this condition. I called the hospital emergency room where my brother worked and told him I was bringing her in. When we got there the doctor examined her, prescribed medication to calm her down and admitted her for observation.
The next morning on their advice, I made an appointment with a neurologist. He examined her and sent her for an M.R.I. After he had evaluated all of this information, my brother and I were called in for a consultation. The x-rays had revealed that my mother had experienced a series of small strokes. He assured me that the situation was normal for a woman her age, took our money and we left.
It seemed to me we were getting nowhere fast. I knew something was seriously wrong. I knew what my mother was doing was not normal, and I knew we had to figure out what it was or we would all be in a mental hospital. She had only been acting this way for three months, but it was already difficult to remember what it was like before all of this began.
