Adapting to Alzheimer’s – “Puppy Dogs and Milking Cows”
I am neither a healthcare professional nor an expert on Alzheimer’s care giving. But, I thought it might be helpful to others for me to share our adaptations through a series of short stories based our experiences while caring for my Dad and my Mother-in-Law on this long journey known as Alzheimer’s.
One of the challenges of being an Alzheimer’s caregiver is living “in the moment”. I was shocked by how much of our everyday conversation is either focused on the past, “What did you have for breakfast?” or on the future, “What’s for dinner?” With no short-term memory, Alzheimer’s patients cannot engage in either conversation; they exist only in the moment or in a fleeting memory from the distant past.
When my mother-in-law began struggling with short-term memory, we found it increasingly difficult to engage her in the family conversation. I knew there had to be a way to involve her in the activities, but it was so difficult to stay “in the moment” since so much of our lives are intertwined with past, present, and future. Eventually, I observed that Pat would become totally engaged in any action outside their sunroom windows – a stray cat, a marauding raccoon, or a bird on the feeder; all captivated her attention. But, what could we do to engage Pat when there wasn’t a critter outside the window?
On one visit to their home, I zoned out of the conversation and began surfing the internet on my iPad looking at miniature, dapple, dachshund puppies that were for sale. As I scrolled through the images of the puppies, it occurred to me that Pat might also like to see these pictures. So, I pulled a chair up next to her chair and asked, “Would you like to look at these puppies?” Much to my delight, she was mesmerized by the images. She laughed, she counted puppies, and she often commented, “Look at that one!” From that point forward, we spent many visits looking at the images of dachshund puppies. I think the puppies particularly appealed to Pat because she had a dachshund named Gretchen, which she adored. I think somewhere in the recesses of her remaining memory, she could still feel the love, warmth, and security that she had with her faithful dachshund companion.
Although I could always turn to the images of the puppies to engage Pat in the conversation, I also wanted to learn as much as I could about her childhood while some memories still remained. I would start by asking, “Growing up, did you have sisters or brothers?” She would respond, “Yes, I had an older sister, Betty Jean, who passed away as an infant, then me, Patricia Louise, my sisters Elizabeth Ann and Margaret Sue, and my brothers Gerald Minor, Eddie Ray, and Ronnie Earl.” In later years, I would have to help her with the names.
I would delve deeper into her family asking, “What was it like growing up in Arkansas?” Pat almost always mentioned, “My mother was a wonderful cook. We canned green beans, tomatoes, corn, and pickles from the garden. Mother made flour biscuits for breakfast and cornbread for supper. We had fresh milk, cream, and butter which we made in a stone churn. My Daddy liked to drink buttermilk with cornbread for supper.” If Pat seemed particularly cognizant, I would ask, “Where did you get your milk and butter?” She would immediately respond, “We lived on a farm. Elizabeth and I would walk to the back of the pasture and the cows would line up and walk to the barn to be milked.”
Later on, I found a video of an English lady milking a Jersey cow. I would show the video to Pat, which she would watch with fascination. She would softly tell me that she milked cows as a child. When I was in a mischievous mood, I would suggest, “Let’s get a cow and start milking again!” Pat was quick to say, “No way, I am not milking anymore cows!”
Pat’s memories faded much faster than we could imagine. In hindsight, I cherish those moments setting by her side and looking at pupping dogs and talking about milking cows. I wish I had asked more about her cow, Colie, and asked if my wife, Pamela Jean, was named in memory of her older sister who died as an infant, and learned more about her childhood in Van Buren Arkansas.
Blessings to the caregivers and those on this journey.
#Alzheimer’s #caregiver #AdaptingToAlzheimer’s
Bradley Roberts Wyatt 