Thus is the world of Alzheimer’s

I seem to have less to write about art wise at the moment, I’m still waiting for my studio to be built.  I’ve written about one of my days as a carer for my husband who has Alzheimer’s.

Half an hour after I got hubs back from the Day Care Centre yesterday, he’s sitting on the sofa he jumps up saying he’s got to collect paperwork from Bugbrooke. It’s at that point I have to decide in an instant to:

a/ Enter his reality and say we’ll do it later (I know that won’t work because he is very stubborn and won’t wait).
b/ Tell him he’s already done it (that’s full of pitfalls too)
c/ Point out he’s already in Bugbrooke and does not have any paperwork to collect.

I go for c/ then suggest we go for a walk (distraction) even though my back hurts, my hip is sore and I’m generally knackered.

The distraction seemed to work and with a friend we go walk.

When he walks hubs has two paces, a snail’s pace and a slow snail’s pace. Also he insists on bringing up the rear, he will not walk in front or in between, therefore it’s necessary to be looking over my shoulder every few seconds. Even so he manages to divert at times and then boy, does his pace pick up, and I have to do a quick figure of where, in seconds he has managed to get to.

Eventually it is bedtime and I collapse in my bed hoping for a good night….


Hubs decides that halfway through the night it’s time to shave. I usually do most of his shave, leaving him to do just a bit to help him feel less dependent than he is. However for safety’s sake I don’t leave razors around (note to self, don’t leave old razor in the bin). He managed to find razor in the bin and have a partial shave. I was so exhausted I’ll admit to not having got up that time so wasn’t 100% sure what he was doing until I did get up when he needed guiding back to his room.

Next night-time fun was him stumbling around. When I ask what he’s doing he tells me he’s killed three ‘of those little animals’ (his way of referring to insects). I know that at times I have to enter his reality but I didn’t, I pointed out there were no insects, he pointed to the floor and said ‘yes there are, they’re there’. Nope, there was nothing… but I said well Ok they are dead now so go back to sleep.

I get him settled and hope for some sleep, then hear him again. This time he’s getting into his trousers, I point out it’s rather in the middle of the night and a good idea to get back in bed.

Thus is the world of Alzheimer’s.


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