The birth of Temporarily Dead

 I’m happy to announce my next step in my journey to recovery. I have published my mystery novel that has nothing to do with alcoholism. Well... that may not be exactly true. The inspiration for the book was from one of Riley’s statements. 

Before I started this blog and before I became Riley’s caregiver, he met up with some old friends, the Smith’s, from the Navy years. We had spent a lot of time with them and even shared a house with them for a short time. During that time, we were all very good friends. The guys were at sea about 50% of the time so it was comforting to have a friend who was going through the same ordeal. 

 

Upon seeing this couple at the mall, the normal “How are you?’ questions were thrown around. One of them asked “How’s Linny and the kids?” Without hesitation Riley blurts out “She’s dead.” The next words out of his mouth were that it was really great seeing them again and they had to get together more often. 

 

Shocked, Mr. Smith grabbed Riley’s arm and said, “Wait a minute! What do you mean ‘she’s dead?’ What happened? When did she die?” 

 

Riley calmly replied, “She was in a car accident. My grandson was in the car, but he was OK. It happened a couple of years ago.” Riley then turned and walked away. 

 

The Smiths were stunned at both the fact that I was dead, and that Riley was so nonchalant about the whole thing. They mourned my death “after the fact.” 

 

Fast forward several years. I am now Riley’s caregiver, have started writing the blog and collaborating with HBO on the documentary “Risky Drinking.” I had several books published. If my name were “googled” a whole page of articles about me would come up. 

 

Mrs. Smith was doing some research on alcoholism and found the Immortal Alcoholic blog. She did a little more research and discovered the HOB documentary. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her next step was to see if I was on Facebook. She found me. I got a private message that day asking if I was Riley’s wife. 

 

We had a long talk after the initial shock of my being really alive. she was relieved to discover that reports of my death had been greatly exaggerated. Once we re-connected it became a standing joke that I would call and let her know that I was still alive. 

 

Mr. and Mrs. Smith talked about how that would be a good story line. I agreed but thought I could just use the idea and not the actual events to create an interesting mystery. The idea rattled around in my head for more than a year. I wrote a short draft and called it “Temporarily Dead.” I had it reviewed by a professional editor and his advice was to “keep going.” So, I did. 

 

“Temporarily Dead” has evolved over the past couple of years and I’m happy for the non-alcoholic route the of story line. It’s centered around, Sara Jane Miller, a woman who is in a car accident and has lost her short-term memory. While working through her memory issues, she discovers that the world thinks she is dead. 

 

I hope you will read this murder mystery novel and enjoy a break from alcoholism chaos.  

 

https://www.amazon.com/Temporarily-Dead-Linda-Bartee-Doyne-ebook/dp/B0BGPXSRPD/ref=sr_1_1?qid=1665504671&refinements=p_27%3ALinda+Bartee+Doyne&s=books&sr=1-1 

 

Alcohol and Memory Loss

During end-stage alcoholism there is a disease, Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrome, which causes the alcoholic to lose the ability to remember people, places and things from their past. The alcohol has soaked the brain with toxins to the point where the brain can no longer function.

There is also a more subtle condition involving alcohol consumption and memory loss. This can take place with regularly drinking as few as three drinks a day. This consumption can result in a blackout type of amnesia. However, there are two types of blackouts, the en-bloc and the fragmentary episode.

During an en-bloc episode the person will forget everything they did during the time they are drinking. It’s is a complete memory loss over a particular time interval during intoxication. If a drinker goes on a two-week bender, the amnesia will encompass the whole two-weeks. These memories will not come back or be recalled.

A fragmentary episode is not as serious and only causes a loss of certain events while retaining some of the memory of that event. This helps the drinker remember the good times while forgetting the bad times during a drinking episode. Even when events are remembered, they are most likely not remembered as they actually happened in reality. Their memories are chemically altered. Unlike the en-bloc memory loss, cues or reminders can be used to recall some or most of the memories during the fragmentary episode.

Long-term alcohol use, even when controlled as two or three drinks during an evening, can create a situation whereby the brain is unable to create new memories. Consider that the phrase “living in the moment” being taken to a whole extreme level.

In a report from the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism there are other factors that have an effect on the memory of the drinker:

1.      How early in life the person started drinking;

2.      Family history of alcoholism;

3.      Gender;

4.      Overall health and constitution;

5.      Social and learning factors such as education.

The Alzheimer’s Association describes the long-term alcohol use amnesia, called Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrome as a condition of:

1.      Gaps in long-term memory;

2.      Inability to remember recent events;

3.      Lack of awareness that there are problems with memory;

4.      Confabulation or making up information that has been forgotten.

In the case of confabulation, the person is not exactly lying. He/she believes that the made-up memories are real.

Other accompanying personality traits for a person suffering for any memory loss is being easy to anger, expressing agitation, confusion. Most often all these factors result in a state of depression.

If the alcoholic in your life says to you that they don’t remember an event, saying or doing a specific thing, it is most like the absolute truth. So, when you are called a derogatory name, it will be devastating to you, but for the alcoholic it will be as though it never happened. If you can’t remember something you can’t feel remorse for having said or done whatever that “thing” is. It just doesn’t exist.

It is heartbreaking to realize that you have been living as a part of couple and the other half of that same couple considers you as one step away from being a stranger. It’s OK. You can feel all the hurt that you would naturally feel, but it won’t help you to dwell on those emotions. Grieve. Cherish the memories that he/she does not have. What you do about it is up to you. But, always know what you are walking into, or out of, before making any decision.

Oh… I think I forgot where I was going with this….

Remembering to forget

I was looking at Riley’s death certificate and saw that the cause of death was cirrhosis. I stared at those words and thought about the pride with which Riley always said his liver regenerated and was not the cause of any of his ailments. In fact, even at the end, he would not admit that alcohol had anything to do with his inability to be an independent person. In his mind he believed he was getting better and would soon be able to move into an apartment in town and away from my nagging and spying. I always wished him luck with meeting his goal.

The liver is a miraculous organ. It is also deceptive. As long as the liver has any healthy cells it can regenerate new cells. But if the percentage of bad cells out-numbers the percentage of good cells… the liver will continue to die through hardening of all the cells. One day the patient can display all the typical symptoms of liver failure complete with extreme jaundice as to make the person appear iridescent and the next day, have almost no symptoms at all.

Over the past year, Riley had no visible symptoms of cirrhosis. It seems he was having more problems with his kidneys shutting down rather than his liver failing. The constant urinary tract infections were what caused the most concern for me. That was probably because they became very difficult to treat.

I’ve learned a lot about UTI’s over the past couple of years. This infection can send a sane man into a world that only he can understand. Riley hallucinated the minute an infection hit his system. He imagined he was back on board one of his submarines and often refused to let me into the room. “Women aren’t allowed in here! Get out! Get out!” he would yell. He regained so much strength that he was able to sweep me away from the bed and throw me against the wall. He insisted I was the enemy and must be shot. His hallucinations were almost always about his navy service.

It was difficult for me, Riley’s wife and caregiver of so many years, to listen to him and console him as he was telling whoever I was in his mind that I was not to be trusted. He told one imaginary ex-girlfriend that he had never loved me nor wanted me in his life. He said he didn’t like his kids and that the only family he had was his brother and the son who hadn’t wanted contact with him in more than 20 years. When an aide came in to help care for him, he insisted that she cook his meal because I was poisoning him. Eventually, I had to leave most of his care to aides.

I thought all of that insanity was due to UTI’s. Now I know that the UTI simply exacerbated the results of his failing liver. Both conditions can cause the brain to go wokky, but to have both problems is… well… impossible to deal with. To make matters worse, a UTI can linger or even become dormant within the patient revealing only minor symptoms over a long period of time. Then when it becomes active, it raises hell to make up for the time it was quiet.

I recently discovered that a friend may be likely to develop Alzheimer’s and he believes he is having early symptoms. There is a heredity issue. However, after doing some research, I discovered that something as simple as a UTI can mimic the symptoms of Alzheimer’s. Knowing that a UTI can create memory loss even if it is a minor infection is in some ways a blessing. A UTI can be cured if the patient is generally healthy. I am confident that his memory issues will fade and he will regain a healthy lifestyle and attitude.

There is no specific test to determine if one has Alzheimer’s or any other form of dementia. That test can only be done during an autopsy. To determine the source of memory loss requires a process of eliminating any other cause. It can take a long time to come up with a definitive yes or no that a person has dementia. The waiting and testing is frustrating.

Alcoholic dementia can also cause memory loss. Of course, alcoholics are most likely NOT going to give up alcohol because they forget a few things every once in a while. Forgetting to pay the electric bill or turn the stove burners off are usually of no concern to the alcoholic. It is left to the people around him to monitor his life. That’s not so good for those around him because they should be worrying about their own lives and not so much the alcoholics.

From early on in our relationship, Riley had selective memory disease. Every wife knows that disease. If he didn’t want to take the trash out he would “forget.” If he didn’t want to confess to something, he would “forget” why he did something or when or how. It was infuriating. I mean come on… how can you forget how a pair of another woman’s panties got into the glove compartment of the car?

I always forget to take my grocery list with me to the grocery store. I can misplace my car keys after having them in my hand. I forget to call friends back after telling them I would. Sometimes my brain searches for a word that I’ve used a million times. I don’t think I have Alzheimer’s and I know I don’t have a UTI. In my situation, I believe I’m still recovering from the stress of caring for someone who couldn’t even remember my name. I don’t want to admit the fact that I’m of an age where it is perfectly acceptable to forget a few things.

Too bad I can’t forget where I hid the candy bars from my grandchildren… I have no problem remembering that hiding place.

Crazy is as crazy does...

In light of the cancer craziness that is going on -- I thought it might be good to revisit a previous post about Riley's immortality and the craziness of it all. I wonder if I'll be faced with this again.


Just because the alcoholic in your life is sober for the moment, do not assume that everything is back to normal. Be aware. Sobriety doesn’t always equate to normality.

Riley has not had even a sip of anything alcoholic since May 4, 2012 when he had a near fatal heart attack. He’s not supposed to be alive right now. According to numerous doctors, nurses, social workers, etc. he was so close to death during his last hospital stay I was coerced into trying to “get on with my own life.” Believe me, I welcomed the suggestion. But, deep down inside I knew I had been here before and not to completely trust what they were telling me. I went forward, but with guarded trepidation.

I gave away some of his clothing and books. I melded his file folders into mine. I got rid of the old computer monitor that originated in the 80’s. I threw away the very old worn tennis shoes and saved the new ones. His mattress and most of his other bedding, along with his area rug, were sent to the dump because they were so covered in human excrement. It was a step in going forward as I had been advised.

On August 4^th I was told the ones who advised me to assume and prepare for his imminent death had been wrong. The situation had changed and I was to take him home and care for him as best I could under the circumstances. I was given vague instructions as I loaded him into my van. This was to become another segment in my journey through this adventure in the world of insanity.

Almost four months later, Riley is walking without assistance from me, but rather with a walker and, sometimes, a cane. He is able to shower by himself and feed himself. He can wash dishes and clean out the refrigerator (well… sort of…). He takes great pride in going around and making sure all the clocks are set correctly in accordance with the time displayed on the cable network channel. The highlight of his day is making lists – grocery lists, to-do lists, phone call lists, etc. When outsiders are around he can communicate with them logically for about 30 minutes. Most of his stories are never real, but they don’t know that.

I know it doesn’t sound so bad does it – or is it? There is an aspect to all this that most people wouldn’t even notice if they did not live with him. Even his doctors are starting to say that he is competent. He knows the date, the president’s name and can remember a list of numbers for a short period of time. In fact, he may even be capable of living on his own. How I wish that were true.

My day starts every morning with a cup of coffee which is gratefully made by Riley. It is between 4 AM and 5:30 AM. Each day I try to only engage Riley in conversations that I think will not create any conflict. I try to suggest projects for the day within his means of ability. I ask what he wants for dinner. Simple little diatribes to start the day. But, things always seem to take a turn for the worst.

Riley will ask me why I have decided to paint the kitchen in certain colors when those colors were never even mentioned in the plans. He will ask me why I don’t do this or that and I will have to repeat everything concerning the subject over again every morning for numerous mornings in a row. He will ask me when he is getting his computer back and when I tell him he can’t have the computer back – he tells me he’s leaving as soon as he is done with his coffee. I try to reason with him that the computer is off limits because of his being visited by police officials concerning his illegal porn usage. He doesn’t remember it and so believes I’m lying about it ever happening.

A peaceful morning almost invariably turns into a frustrating round of trying to make sense of it all for Riley’s sake. He may be able to remember that string of numbers, but he can’t remember anything about yesterday. He does not believe he ever had a heart attack and thinks I just put him into a nursing home because I was tired of him. He wants me to tell him how many days until he can start drinking again. He wants to know when he can drive. And mostly, he wants to know when I’m going to get out of his life.

Riley has turned into a mean old man. He dislikes the grandchildren’s dog, kids, friends and anything else he relates to them. He becomes angry with me and the world at the drop of a hat. If I don’t share his interest in the latest news story, he claims I’m not concerned about political issues. He must recount to me every episode of every NCIS he has watched that day. If I mention that I’ve seen all of them more than once, he replies that can’t be true because he’d never seem that episode before. In Riley’s mind, I’m a lying, conniving, underhanded, prison warden who revels in making him miserable. He doesn’t hesitate to tell me so every chance he can.

I’ve heard that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Somehow I think that if I just keep explaining things to Riley that eventually he will see that I’m not the bad guy and grow to accept his circumstances. The only person I’m hurting is me. The only really crazy person in the room is me. I know better. But, my instincts are to try to answer his questions with honest answers. Try to give viable explanations without being cruel. I’m reaching the end of my ability to keep going in this manner.

Riley has new projects assigned to him now. I suggest he go for a walk around the block since we now live where there are blocks instead of pastures. I suggest he go with me to the grocery store. I’ve shown him how to use the washer and dryer, although each week we have to repeat the lesson. I don’t dial his brother’s phone number for him anymore. In short, I’m forcing him to try to be more self-reliant. Maybe by doing so, he will eventually REALLY be ready to live on his own with just an occasional visit by a family member to check up on him.

Of course, the minute he is in his own place, he will be drinking alcohol. If he has his car, he will drive drunk. His health will fail rapidly and his days of immortality may be over. This is where my moral compass kicks in. I must get rid of the car before he moves out. And I have to turn a blind eye to whatever he is doing during his downfall. It feels like I’m killing him.

There is no great love lost between us, yet I still feel a responsibility. And then, there is forever the issue of not wanting my daughter to pick him up, dust him off and destroy her life. The question is… by the time she scoops him up to take care of him, will he be so far gone that he will not be too destructive to her sanity.