Daily Living

Noticeable changes to daily life became more evident after the first couple years. There  were changes in organization, dressing, eating, hygiene and sleeping.  We just made adjustments according to what was becoming difficult with time.

For work it became apparent that I would would help Dennis calendar his schedule and keep his papers organized.  This seemed to help him continue working.  Without a doubt, I believe other high school coaches were stepping up to help Dennis when they noticed any difficulties he had with completing tasks in a timely manner.  The support was there with the administration, the coaches and myself.

On a more personal basis, the cell phone was the first casualty.  Misplacing first then later losing a few cell phones made it obvious that the phone difficult to manage.  Regardless of how important it was for me to have constant ability to call Dennis, it was not possible for him to keep it with him; on him; or near him.  After losing a few phones, we gave up!  It was made easier when I was able to put tracking phones hot-wired to our vehicles.  At least, I had constant computer access to his location.

At home organization of his personal items was another observed change.  Dennis had always been meticulous to every detail with his clothing and personal items.  He had his own walk-in closet so I didn't pay much attention to those areas.  What I did start to notice was that he was 'hoarding' or 'gathering' unusual items in his drawers.  I would find napkins, kleenex, papers, unopened mail, books, magazines, trinkets and at times even crazy little items of mine -- in his drawers or in his closet.

After retirement and about four years into this disease, I noticed some peculiar dressing changes.  Dennis would put on socks that didn't match; shoes that didn't match; warm clothes when it was hot and shorts when it was cold.  It was not a huge issue but one that this wife would bring to his attention.  Hated seeing him with those socks (mismatched) so I just got rid of all his socks and bought all new ones exactly the same.  And I put away shoes that could be mismatched.  In other words, I gave him less choices!  It was the easy way to handle he situation.

During the night time hours, he started experiencing what they call sundowning.  The best explanation I can give you for that is the individual wanders aimless during the night in their sleep.  We discussed the option to put locks high on the doors so he could not get outside at night.  I didn't go through with that safety issue since I had an alarm on all doors and windows.  Yes there were a couple of times when he went outside during the night (sometimes to the backyard other times to the front).  But with the alarm I could intervene and guide him back to the bedroom or bathroom.

By about 7 years into the challenge of alzheimer's, the night time wandering became more aggressive.  I could only guess that he would wake from dreams that took him back to Viet Nam and combat.  He would jump up in the bed and scream for me to watch out for the snakes.  I would find him wandering around on the floor looking under the bed for 'something'.  At other times he would wake up shouting in anger.  I just did my best at calming him. 

One of the worst experiences night time experiences was when he woke up after midnight -- ran to the bedroom door hitting it and slamming on walls.  He was screaming in complete rage that made no sense.  "I am sick and tired of people making me feels stupid.  There is nothing wrong with me!!  Quit treating me this way.  This has to stop.... and so on".  I followed him to the kitchen trying to reassure him and calm him.  He continued the tirade so I distanced myself from him with the kitchen island separating us.  Seemed as though time stood still in rage that was for the first time extremely verbally violent with outward attacks on property that gave me grave concern.  I kept asking Denny, "Are you going to hurt me? Please stop .. you are scaring me."  He screamed no he wasn't going to hurt me as he approached me coward in the corner of the kitchen.  As the tirade continued, I slowly worked my way to the phone.  Without much thought I called our son for 'safety'.  He could he the ranting and the rage that made him suggest to call the police.  I responded with concerns of fear what they might do if they came.  Scott said, "At least get out of the house."  I replied that I would try.  And then I got around to my keys and headed to the garage for the car.  Dennis followed me and as I got in the car and locked the doors, the rage increased because I was backing out of the garage.  Dennis beat on the car with reckless abandon in a seizure state that had no meaningful trigger.  I drove out the gate of our community and called our daughter Sondra to come help.  I explained what had happened and assured her I would wait before returning to the house.

When Sondra and her husband arrived, we drove back to the house.  Dennis was had calmed and was pacing quietly in the kitchen.  The four of us sat at the dining room table.  We let Dennis speak.  He was assured that we love him and how his anger had threatened safety in our home.  I explained how frightened I was that he might have hurt me or hurt himself (especially when he was trying to pull the counter top off the island).  He just spoke openly how angry he was about what was happening.  He didn't like feeling stupid.  He didn't like the reminders.  He was feeling like "less than a man".  He felt he had lost control of what was a very calm and caring environment.  He didn't like the feel of the medicines.  He hated all the doctor appointments.  He went on speaking freely for about an hour.  By the end of our intervention, Dennis was clearly calming himself and genuinely sorry for the outburst.  He didn't understand what had happened.  He hugged me and assured me he would never hurt me or let anyone else hurt me -- ever! 

On a lighter side, there were the times when comical things would happen.  One morning I woke up to find Dennis in a striped sweater -- my striped sweater.  He must have gotten cold and put it over his t-shirt top.  Other times I would be out making breakfast and Dennis would go off to get dressed.  He would return with his shorts over his pajama pants.  And he would have two or three shirts layered on some the warmest days in Texas.

Shaving became an issue only in that Dennis was meticulous in cleaning the razor after each daily shave.  When he came to me saying his razor didn't work, we would just go out to Walmart and buy another.  This happened a few times before I realized the problem was he would take the razor apart to clean it -- but he couldn't get it back together correctly with the right parts in place.  The answer to that challenge was simple.  Every two weeks, I took him to have a haircut and his beard trimmed.  He looked good in a beard so it made everyone happy. 

Another unexpected habit reminded me of the little boys bad habit when they are outside playing and don't want to go in.  The last few months when Dennis was home, I noticed he would be going outside to the patio.  Oh I just assumed he was going out to play with the dogs.  Then one day I looked over to see him go outside but our 'girls' were inside.  I watched to see what he was doing.  He walked around to the back of the house and relieved himself by the air conditioner unit.  Startled I said, "Denny what are you doing?  You can't go the bathroom outside.  Come back in and I will help you to the bathroom."  And so this continued but under watchful eye, we would catch him going out and join him or redirect him by asking if he had to go to the bathroom.  His answer was usually yes.  It was always ironic and a bit disturbing that to go outside, he had to walk by the guest bathroom.  He never did understand my concern but of course I had to make sure this did not happen when the grandchildren were visiting or out front where the neighbors would see. 

And finally, the mailbox.  Dennis loved going to the mailbox each day.  That was his chore to help out.  It worked great until he started spreading out the mail.  He would open some envelopes and not others.  He would leave some mail on the counter and tuck away others in his drawer or closet.  I tried the mail basket in the kitchen that worked for a bit but in time going to the mailbox was not feasible.  Too many times I didn't get the 'bills' or statements that had due dates or action to be taken.  The mail key was taken from its familiar place in the kitchen and soon he didn't miss that walk to the box.

Daily living with dementia challenges was met with creative ways to make adjustments to daily living skills.  I cannot tell you that many of these events were not frustrating to me.  In fact, I have to admit I didn't handle things well at times.  When I was in denial, I just assumed with a little help he could do much more than he was doing.  I thought I could 'love' him out of forgetting or being confused.  I wanted to have an answer for everything.  It was when I was broken and on bended knee that God spoke clearly to me.  Faith, hope and love would have to be my guide.  All three were imperative to a meaningful and caring environment for both Dennis and myself.