It amazes me what we (I) let our (my) LWA (loved one with Alzheimer’s)
get away with in the name of the disease. Not only are we chauffer, cleaner and
go-fer; we’re also expected to morph into the occasional doormat-ter.
I (thought) I learned how to let comments roll off my back like
water off the proverbially duck as advised by all the doctors and everything I’ve
read but after the tongue-lashing Miss Cathy unleashed with such fury a few
months ago I was left feeling emotionally eviscerated.
The details of which I’m hoping my best to forget and have repeated
enough so suffice to say my entire purpose for being came into question. Unfortunately,
it’s something that I don’t think I’ll ever forget (and I’m someone who never
says never-even though I just said “ever”).
After it happened I was confused and shell-shocked. We’ve
had arguments and disagreements in the past but her reaction to the situation
was so much bigger than the size of the incident and it was just too much.
I don’t know (which adds to the confusion) if it’s the Alzheimer’s,
old age, fear or a combination of it all but emotional boundaries were crossed
and her filter (which at best was barely there) was completely gone so she said
things I never imagined I’d hear, the venom viscous with hate.
The only thing I could think to do was to get in my car and
drive. I stopped at a park nearby and sat there trying to take in what had just
happened. I got on my phone and first turned to my brother, who listened and was
some comfort but could offer little else.
It was my friends, Brian and William that really came
through for me. They gave me the words that turned into actions that helped me go
back (which in and of itself was pretty powerful because every fiber in my being
was screaming for me to just drive; where I didn’t know-anywhere but back
there).
But, what they said (each in own way) has kept me and keeps
me here/there to this day.
Brian reminded me that I’m not alone and that I’m not “stuck”,
I can always get professional help for her and leave. William told me, “much
will be said” (and he should know-he has challenges of his own caring for both
his parents. He shared some of the things that have been said to him and he’s
still there, everyday caring for them both.) He also told me to just get a thicker
skin, “apologize to her” (even if I didn’t mean it or understand why it was
important) and to just……“go on”.
So, I took their advice and went back.
Oh, don’t worry; Miss Cathy is fine (she hasn’t been stuffed
and propped up in a rocker somewhere waiting to be discovered in the last reel
like Norman Bates’ mother) in fact, she’s better than ever actually. She unleashed,
I “apologized” and now she seems all the better for having gotten (whatever)
off her chest.
I haven’t shirked my obligations either. I go through the motions
day to day but something has shifted in me and when my day is done (more often
than not) I find that I question my role as caregiver and my continued
commitment to stay here. I have tried my best to show up for my duties (both as
son and caregiver) but my heart (what’s left of it) isn’t into it anymore.
It’s humbling but I’m almost ready to concede that the Alz
wins.
I confess I thought I was made of stronger stuff; having
survived heartbreak, the death of friends to AIDs, domestic abuse, bankruptcy,
alcoholism and career suicide…to name a few) but I guess I’ve met my match.
I was thinking I might have some more fight left in me (or
at least a few more ounces of blood to give) but that changed the other day
when it happened again. While it wasn’t the bloodletting that occurred before, once
again Miss Cathy vented her anger. But this time I wasn’t taken totally of
guard, the surface was sliced, old wounds were re-opened and there was a little
pain, an emotional paper-cut if you will.
Unfortunately, the people closest to us can hurt us the most
because while they love us for our strengths they also know our weaknesses and
have to power to turn that against us. Alzheimer’s has a way of releasing the
person suffering with the disease from the responsibility of keeping that
trust.
Sometimes, you can see that the LWA knows they’ve
over-stepped and are remorseful and other times they seem to know not the
destruction they’ve wrecked and the emotional damage done. They seem just as
pained and confused as the person they’ve hurt.
And while it’s forgivable (hopefully) to the one who’s
boundaries have been broken, it’s like the bell that once rung cannot be
un-wrung and they are left to decide for whom the pain tolls.
