April 20, 2008
I was interested to see this title in the New York Times newspaper today: “Zen and the Art of Coping with Alzheimer’s”. So I checked it out:
I have a little experience with this scenario in my own family, though blessedly, just a little. My wonderful grandmother lived to a healthy old age, unfortunately in a way, because her body outlasted her mind to a certain extent. This is how we roll the dice with modern healthcare.
And in the last few years when we’d go to visit her, as time went by her recognition of the “here & now” became erratic. She was glad to have visitors. But confusion would set in, for example she would call me by my father’s name (she hadn’t seen him for many years). Or she wouldn’t know what year it really was. Or she would not be able to communicate clearly at all.
Acting on my own instincts, I decided that if she need me to be my father that time, I would be. It was not important to be myself. If she could not communicate coherently, I would not try to help her talk. We could share the room in silence.
I got some advice that said it was important to correct Grandma if she got confused, that I should not yield to her perceptions if they were “wrong”, etc. I disagreed. She was in an assisted-living environment, she did not have to do for herself. Her husband had left this world years before. She had only her memories, what she could summon of them… and small comforts like my wife rubbing her back or brushing her hair, even on days when she didn’t remember our names. We were just souls sharing a few more hours together. In the end, the names did not matter.
