I just spent 40 minutes trying to soothe Bo because, as happens more often now,  he was stressed over what he has to do tomorrow morning.  And what time he has to get up to do it.

I know there is nothing.  But he just can’t settle.

His frustration is palpable.  He doesn’t know what.  He doesn’t know who.  He can’t think of the words,  can’t pull the idea from his brain.    He holds his head and leans over his bureau struggling to think.

Every few minutes he asks me if I’ll be here in the morning to drive him to this “place” that he can’t name or describe.   Is it a doctor?  Is it a friend?  His nephew?

Each time he says “you know”  I struggle to come up with some connection.  Is there a note somewhere that I missed?  Did someone actually call?   But I check the call history on the phone and no one called while I was out.  I look around on the tables and bureaus.  Did he once again find an old note and think it’s current?  I see none.

I sit on the edge of the bed, watching him and trying desperately to think of some way to soothe him.  What can I say? Is there a question that I can ask to help him?

My response that I keep track of all  appointments  doesn’t work tonight.  My assurance  that we can figure this out in the morning doesn’t work.  I want to cry for this man whom I love so much.

Last week I learned a new lesson.   Instead of shredding all of the mail after I paid bills,  I left some of it in the waste can.  I came home later to find the mail spread out on the bureaus and bed in our room,  Bo concerned about paying all the bills.  Could I help him?  That time I was able to satisfy him when I said I take care of all of that now. Later, I gathered everything up and shredded it.

More and more he is so stressed,  so frustrated by his inability to think.  He knows he’s mixed up and forgetting things.  He knows that he can’t account for large chunks of time, can’t remember what he did half an hour ago,  has no idea what happened yesterday or this morning.  Gets upset when he thinks he wasn’t told something he needed to know. “It’s bad, ”  he says.  “I’m losing it.”





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3 Responses to Unsettled

  1. Kathe Shakespeare says:

    Dear Nancy,
    Your love and patience is so admirable. You are in my fondest thoughts, Your documenting this journey and sharing it is so much appreciated and valuable to me.

    Kathe Shakespeare

  2. Barney Hungerford says:

    In my contact with friends having Alzheimer’s, when they ask a question, I just give any answer and it holds them for a few minutes. I see one of my swimmers every Mon, Wed and Fri and each day she asks why I’m walking with a crutch. I just say I fell and when practice is over she asks again, why the crutch and I say I fell. Its not a loved one. So I don’t have the emotion to go with it as you have. A few years ago, My Aunt stoped asking and put her head down on her food tray and never raised it again except to be hand feed didn’t talk again.
    Your doing the right thing and thats all that is important.

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