Life on the 36 Hour Plan

           Imagine a plan that is much like flying around the world, you are never sure of what time zone you are in at the moment.  That is living with an Alzheimer's person.  You can touch and feel, the clock tells the time but yet you are dealing with an unreal environment.  Conversations are meaningless a second later, items disappear within a minute, and words don't represent objects.  Some active like eating is on a fast track but other events, like a lazy afternoon in the sun, is on a month-long-time-frame.

            Time each day is spent by me finding objects that have been moved out of their location and vanished.  After cutting the grass the other day, I asked John to follow me to the garage as I pushed the mower.  He carried the muncher black attachment bag for the mower.  I paused at the garage and announced that I had to go in the side door of the house and open up the garage door.  After the garage big door was opened,  I walked toward the mower and John was not there anymore.  I walked into the back yard, then I walked into the house.  John was in the kitchen but the attachment was no where in sight.  I looked around the house, the garage, his bathroom, the laundry room, the den, the garage again.  This large black bag had managed to disappear.  John suggested a glass of water on the counter as the possible item that was missing.  The clock said 10:30, this was the fourth thing of the morning that had been offered up to missing file.

              When I hear people tell me that I am fortunate that John attends the Senior Center and that somehow that is the magic for my day or life, I have to smile.  Those six hours four times a week leaves me with the other 30 hours each tour of the sun to deal with.  Yes, it gives me time on the ground but the most of my remaining time is in the outer space zone.  I find my personal needs of quiet time, socializing, creative time, managing daily life needs like bill paying is squelched in those six hours periods. Periods can flow peacefully by for days but there are moments that pile up in the corner of the brain that are pure primal scream.  Only an experience caregiver can sympathy with one another about that corner of the brain.

              John often in the evening is occupied by sorting cards from two decks of cards.  The process used is original to him.  The other pass time that John enjoys is looking at photographs.  I have shoe boxes of photos. About 50 pics are at his chair in the living room and there a other piles in a couple locations in the house.  Those pictures remind me daily what a great life we have shared together over our marriage.  We have loving family, healthy children and grandchildren, memories of great friends, gatherings and of exploring the world together.  It has been a full, full life. John's shuffling of photographs bring me back to view how lucky I am.  It balances the moment of utter insanity.