Happy Hour, Way Too Happy - An Alzheimer Journey by Sue Scoggins

sue March 21, 2013

Ok. So it's not at the Royal Sonesta in New Orleans or at BJ's in historic Pasadena during the Super Bowl. Seriously, I found this Happy Hour to be so cute and funny. Volunteers! They are so great! Once a month this couple comes and provides entertainment for happy hour. He sings. She plays the piano. The pretzels and O'Doul's are passed out. Non-alcolholic wine is poured for the ladies. It's just so cute. (Call me demented.)

Remember, Jerry is in a facility that is for assisted living folks. That means, most of the residents are fairly independent and require only a little help. Jerry is in a locked memory care unit in the back. It's not locked because it's a prison. It's locked for their safety. They get an extra special amount of care. They cannot do for themselves. (Seriously.) They cannot brush their teeth, feed themselves, dress themselves..they cannot even sit on the potty. Yet, they still have an essence of "self" and are treated with dignity and respect. They are family.

For happy hour, the residents in the memory care unit are brought in with the assisted living folks in the front. It works out great and there seems to be no judgement at all regarding anyone's capabilities. It's a beautiful thing to see such acceptance.

Back to today's happy hour. When the entertainers said they were going to do love songs....I thought I was going to gag. Not again. Sappy love songs! Don't you know what you're doing? But, as Jerry drank his O'douls and I snuck a swig, I could hear the "others" singing. I could hear Andy Williams', "Moon River, wider than a mile. I'm crossing you in style someday". These people were singing along. (at least some of them.)

It's not your ordinary happy hour. While the activity director put the brakes on a wheelchair and the nurse replaced the oxygen tank for someone who had run empty....she gave her a kiss on the forehead..and continued to sing along...with those bluesy love songs...."The more I see you...the more I want you", written by Harry Warren and Mack Gordon and Stardust, sung by Nat King Cole.

Guess the reason I didn't get all weepy sad was because Jerry never much cared for those romantic songs. Now, if they had sung "Alabama's fight song" I suppose he would have responded. But, as it was....I was perfectly ok with his drinking his O'Doul's and staring at me. I just couldn't help it when "I'm in the Mood for Love" began. I looked into Jerry's eyes, sarcastically raised my eyebrows and stroked his cheek and sang. I saw a slight grin. I think he caught it...for a second. I could just see a slapstick comedy coming on. But, I refrained myself.

There was a time, though, that was the "pièce de résistance". The perfect moment when one of the crotchety elderly women yelled, "DO YOU HEAR A THING THAT THEY ARE SAYING?" It was a moment to remember.

No pun intended.

We Have a New Roomie - An Alzheimer Journey by Sue Scoggins

sue September 10, 2012

It was Sunday and a beautiful fall day. When I arrived at Jerry’s place, I could see him in the main room where most of the residents “rest” watching tv. They were watching Andy Griffith. I could see Jerry actually leaning forward and looking up, as if he was actually watching good ole Andy. Some of the other residents expect their greeting hug when I walk in the room. A squeeze makes their day. Jerry didn’t exactly know who I was at first. However, I took him by the hand and walked him down the hall to his room. When I got there I noticed that there was a new bed, pictures on the wall, another lounge chair and a BIG tv. He had a new roommate.

It was exciting. It looked like his new roomie might be a good match. Jerry and I walked on out to the front porch where I had noticed a group of folks sitting in rocking chairs. What a beautiful family! His new roomie, I’ll call him Roy, was sitting in a wheel chair next to his endearing daughter and her husband. I could see the angst of this new transition by the red rimmed eyes. But, we all stayed upbeat, talked about the country western band that comes once a month, and how Roy loves old movies. I could see how Roy was trying to be brave......his face would begin to reveal his cry..... he wanted to go home. I’ve seen that face before...many times. Yet, he knew he had to be brave for his family’s sake. He was. Jerry still is.

Jerry’s doggie, Montana, was waiting in the back of the car so we ventured over to give her a pat on the head. The cool fall day made it possible for her to come for her doggie visit. By this time, Jerry knew who we both were. (I think.) I put the leash around Jerry’s wrist and threaded it through her legs so she wouldn’t pull him and off we went to circle the parking lot. As long as Jerry is able, we’ll go for a “tour” around the area. (This photo above was taken 4 years ago.) Fresh air and outdoors is in short supply when you are in a locked memory care unit. Not that they don’t do the their best to keep the resident’s active and get them out....still, it’s not the same as being able to get out whenever you want. None of these alzheimer patients are able to do anything without assistance. The residents up front in the assisted living section are able to sit out front whenever they want. And they do!

Back at the unit, Roy was taking a nap, and the each family member was saying their goodbyes. Sons, daughters, in-laws, and his granddaughter came out one by one. All greeted Jerry with empathy and infectious smiles. Jerry’s face lit up with a smile as if he belonged to them. For them, it was a heavy hearted day but in their heavy hearted ness, they were able to be uplifting. We’ll be in this together for a long time. New friends. A new roomie. A gold nugget !

’Til Death Do Us Part - an Alzheimer Journey

sue May 12, 2012

This whole scenario with Dotty and Bob DeMarco (www.alzheimersreadingroom.com/) has really brought things home to me... That this journey will eventually come to an end. As with Bob, this Alzheimer journey has lasted for so many years that it has become a way of life. Our way of life. I honestly think of Jerry’s and my relationship to be nothing other than a beautiful love story. It's about our saying “I do"... " til death to us part” in our young years, when we had no idea what it meant. We were so young. I was 19 and he was 24. I was entering college, he was graduating. We were young and stupid and thought we knew everything. We lived high on the hog. We travelled. We lived pay check to pay check. We grew to become responsible. We gave birth to three wonderful children. We buried our parents.

I remember when he was returning from a trip, I ran down the halls of the airport and threw my arms around him. It was like a movie. I remember to this day an elderly woman who watched and smiled. There were times, we fought. Plenty of them. But no matter how hard it got, we knew we would stick it out. We had been blessed with parents who stuck it out...so would we. We had made a commitment to God.

Well meaning friends encourage me to move on. They say he’s not there anymore. They say he's not the man I once knew. While I will admit I would love to be held and have someone care for me...it is only a slight temptation. Very slight. I am fully committed and am reminded of our commitment every time he comes to me. Now He throws HIS arms around ME. He is still there, in fact, after we finished at the park yesterday, he abruptly got up, turned around and said in a shaky voice, "I love you". Unbelievable how, he has no words and hasn’t for years, yet those words came out.

In his lucid moments, Jerry knows he’s in decline. He tries to say it. I think he’s afraid. Not for himself, but for me. He has always been my protectorate. He knows he is leaving. He doesn’t want to. I cling to our few moments of lucidity. The depth of our unspoken connection comes only after many, many years together. It is a reward. A blessing from God that could never have been imagined. There are no regrets. I don’t know what it will be like when he’s gone. I don’t know if I’ll be prepared even though I’ve had all this time. Others have experienced loss and have survived. I will too. Then I’ll move on, counting my blessings. I’ll move on knowing we have experienced each other from the beginning to the end.....and I’ll be thanking God for a truly beautiful marriage.