Friday, September 18, 2009

it's not always what you need, maybe.

I am questioning the value, at least in our case, of a support group.

Theoretically, it would be worthwhile if Jeff came away feeling buttressed against the isolation of being “the only one,” or was simply happy about the social interactions afforded.

In practice, he says yes, he had a “good time.” But, the aftermath does not feel so worthwhile. Driving was a dormant, and seemingly peaceful, subject until--riding home Wednesday night--he reported that “everyone else” in his group drives. Practicing my most tactful efforts at fielding and responding, I suggested that it’s not really true--some of them do, some of them don’t, but all will be giving it up soon. He has forgotten that he no longer has a license (it’s an i.d. now,) and that the insurance company will not insure him (he’ll “call and find out about that.”)

Meanwhile, this morning’s activity was brooding rumination as he tries to process why he is now labeled “a guy with Alzheimer’s.” “What,” he asks me, “are my symptoms?”

Well there’s a fun topic. I can’t imagine any efficacity in my running down a list of cognitive failings, but--after trying to steer the discussion off it--I allow as how he has some difficulty with the connection between what the brain wants to do and the body’s ability to enact it.

”No,” he says. He doesn’t have any kind of problem like that. I can only say ok. But he still wants to recall why he is in this category--person with Alzheimer’s--and he tries to recreate the scene of diagnosis in his memory: Dr. Moses saying, with a curt lack of padding “You have Alzheimer’s and you’re going to die from it.”

I cannot remember Dr. Moses’ exact words, but Jeff certainly recalls the man’s bedside manner aptly. What he doesn’t remember is the hours of testing at Johns Hopkins to assess his cognition, and the PET scan (which, to this day, I will look at if I have no other reason to say “holy shiznit.” Usually I have other reasons.)

Ultimately though, for all my carefully selected replies, the best was something along the lines of “whatever is or isn’t, it’s your life...just live it.” Which made sense to Jeff, fortunately. But I have to wonder if following that advice will be easier in the long run if we don’t put ourselves in the face to face position of acknowledging the Alzheimer’s specter any more than necessary. i.e.: “Support Group.”

A useful premise if one has no choice but to think about it, and finds the group helps process the unfortunate truth. But if one’s mind provides the loophole of conveniently forgetting that one is anything but normal, why not take that offer?

3 comments:

Rachel Clement said...

yes, i agree. maybe seems better to stop that.
if you need a support group, you can just call me and bec and liv and say "today jeffy tried to pick up a strange child and carry it through a revolving door. good god."
and we will be your support group and say HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

anyway. was that really dr. moses' bedside manner? or are you being sarcastic?

i <3 u. when coming to st. mary's? i can't come home next weekend (aren't you gone next weekend anyway...?) but am trying to figure out a time it would work. and HEY me heaaaarrrrrty, i needz a phone!

anniemcu said...

Emm, I can only imagine, though your words paint a pretty clear picture. I have yet to take delivery of my long-backordered magic wand, so can only offer empathy and cyber-hugs... and a good strong cup of your cyber-beverage of choice.

Sarah/annie

Emily said...

Well, those are good offers!