Riley has reached a point of physical recovery that he is
now as good as he is going to get. He shuffles from room to room without his
walker while using every handhold available to keep him from falling. When we
leave the house, I insist that he use the walker or the wheelchair – he always
chooses the walker.
His OCD is only slightly tolerable for me. He squares the
corners of the DVDs to the edge of the table and straightens his blankets on
his bed several times throughout the day. Any wrinkle is cause for smoothing.
He has a regimen and any deviation upsets him greatly.
The diagnosis for Riley is “alcohol dementia”. Basically, it’s
the same are regular dementia except it was brought on from his alcoholism. The
bad news is that it will get progressively worse even though he is not
consuming any alcohol.
From the outside, he would appear to be just a normal old
guy who has past his prime. You can have short logical conversations with him.
But, his ability to relate events of the past in an accurate manner seems to be
sketchy at best. He sometimes doesn’t remember where we really live or why we
are living with our grandchildren. He believes he is in charge and issues
ultimatums and dictates actions. No one is listening to him. We hear him and
breathe a sigh when he starts, but we don’t really pay attention. If he asked
any of us if we can hear him now, we’d say “NO”.
I have noticed little lapses of memory in my own brain. I
seem to be without as much patience as I had in the past and I often yell at
Riley when he steps on my last nerve. This disturbs me. I spent some time with a social worker last
week and she informed me that often times the caretaker starts to display some
of the same traits of craziness as the person needing the caretaking. Well…
this is not good. It will take a lot of restraint and control of my own
emotions to not join Riley in his crazy world.
Sometimes I think things were easier when he was drunk. But,
then I think about it and realize that I do not need nor want to hurry the
process of him returning to drinking. I know that eventually he will find a way
to obtain alcohol. It may not be in the form of vodka or beer. It will more
likely be something from our panty, like vanilla extract. Or it possibly could
be something from the medicine cabinet, like mouth wash or cough syrup. Once
that happens, I’ll be faced with more decisions that I don’t want to make.
The social worker asked if there was anything on my plate
that I could remove with an idea of making my life a little easier right now. I
ran through my mental list of projects – blog; OARS Facebook support group;
OARS website; editing my book for Kindle; developing the cookbook for an OARS
fundraising; turning OARS into a non-profit organization; going back to work at
a real job; planning a reunion for my family; general cooking and cleaning in
this house; negotiating a lease for the new house; plan and organize the move;
etc; etc.
Well, I don’t really see what I would eliminate, but maybe I can
prioritize a little better. Maybe if I can just designate some time for a long leisurely
bath or an early morning walk, that might give the break I need to be able to
keep my brain devoid of too much craziness. Personally, I think I’m just
frustrated with the responsibility of taking care of someone who cannot
understand that he needs to have a caretaker. I’m frustrated that I don’t feel
qualified to give him what he needs and yet I manage to do it every single day.
In my opinion, once we get into the new house things will be
easier because we will have more than 1200 square feet all for just Riley and
me. I will have space for working on my projects. The privacy of not having to
share a bedroom with Riley will be THE best thing. Cooking from my own pantry
on my own time schedule will be awesome. Yes. I believe things will settle down
and become more “normal” inside the craziness.
I’m very impressed at that OARS has grown to 100 members in
less than a year. I reached out for help in creating OARS into a group with
real meetings and becoming a non-profit organization. The future for OARS is
bright indeed. We are planning an inaugural live meeting in the early Spring which
will allow us to come together face-to-face. We will be planning the direction
of our group, forming committees, establishing relationships with others who
live close to us, and scheduling live meetings in many areas of the country. I
reached out and found that they could in fact “hear me now.” Our vision may be
lofty, but with all of us working together it can become reality.
To join OARS, go to Facebook and search for OARS F&F
Group, request permission to join and you should be granted access in less than
6 hours. If you would like to help support our vision, you may go to our
fundraising site and make a donation. Every donation is highly appreciated and,
while they last, you will receive a tote bag in return. We accept donations of
any amount from $1.00 to whatever you are comfortable in giving. Go to the link
below to contribute:
I can hear Riley moving around in his room and I know he
will soon be out here in the kitchen. He will want coffee and breakfast. He
will want to “talk” and I will make an effort to “hear him now.”
