The first real warning sign came in about 1993 when we both had a check-up with an iridologist, who commented fairly casually that she could see some changes taking place in the frontal part of Kath's brain. But as often happens with something we have never had dealings with, it didn't occur to us to connect that with Alzheimers - if we even knew of the disease at that time. Ignorance is bliss. For the time being.
Then I began to notice little things - a sort of growing, irrational personal protectiveness. If I drove the car off the tarseal onto the rough at the side of the road and it wasn't sitting level she would hang onto her seat and freeze up. The word "me" came more and more into conversation, especially in the phrases "don't hurt me" "mind out for me" "mind me" "mind my legs" or whatever - and all this I can now see as the early stages of what has developed into an anxiety complex, along with the self-focussing that seems to be a part of this disease process. At the same time, she began to be less aware of the needs of others. Many times before in life I had felt that though she had a good dash of the "What about the neighbours?" attitude, she didn't really always appreciate other people's position on things. That trait became more and more pronounced.
I can remember at one point when we had a very busy spell with the goats and I was working extremely hard physically - building fences and pens as well as doing the animal routines - that I would be exhausted by evening. On a couple of occasions as we were doing the evening work in the shed I said to her, "I am exhausted - I could lie down right here in the mud and sleep." I meant it - I really, really meant it. The response was "Well, we'll just get on with the work." I could even feel a touch of "What on earth is wrong wth you?" Shortly after, I had a very scary episode with my heart. I was the one who rang the hospital - with my heart still palpitating. They sent the ambulance for me and I spent the night in intensive care.
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2 comments:
Patricia--I've been reading Sue Miller's The Story of My Father and she talks about the same reaction from her father when they were cleaning out a house he'd bought--he just expected a certain performance from her, despite whatever might have been going on in her life. I hadn't thought about it, but I see the same thing with my mother. It's so frustrating--I have so many conversations with her in my head, where she finally realizes the unrealistic expectations she has of me. And of course, this realization doesn't come to pass in reality. You're right--I believe it is based in anxiety, maybe self-preservation as their world is closing in on them?
Deb Peterson
Deb - That's very interesting.. It's a help to realise this behaviour is happening to others too. I know from hard experience, no acknowledgement is likely to be forthcoming - and with my mom if I push for it she will dig her heels in. Aaah well - maybe we can help by acknowledging each other!
Patricia
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