Why this site exists ... last updated on 9/16/23
This site was created in 2013 when the editor of a medical journal suggested that I start a site enabling visitors to read all of my published articles as an Alzheimer's disease (AD) spouse caregiver. In 2017, I also started posting occasional "Personal Blog" columns on this site, columns not submitted elsewhere for publication. This site has now recorded 140,000+ visits. Unfortunately, I had to close this site to comments because of repeated spam posts about "magic healers" and "miracle cures." However, if you send your comments directly to me at acvann@optonline.net, I will definitely respond to you!
My wife died of AD in 2016 but I continued writing. Several years after her death, however, I was still struggling to move on with the rest of my life. At that point, I thought it would be easier for me to move on if I stopped writing about AD. After several months, however, I realized that I had made the wrong decision ... I needed to continue writing, not only to be able to continue moving on with the rest of my life, but also because I felt that through my writing I may be able to help other caregivers and try to effect change in how doctors diagnose and treat people with AD. I've now had more than 100 articles published and no longer write much for publication anymore. However, I do continue to express my views about AD issues in occasional Personal Blog (PB) columns, posted only on this site.
For some reason that I still cannot figure out, sometimes the font size or background color will change within the text of an article or blog after posting. My apologies!! I continue trying to fix this, but so far to no avail!
Back Story
I am a retired elementary school teacher and elementary/intermediate school principal living in Commack, Long Island, NY. Sadly, only 7 years after retirement I had become a 24/7 caregiver for my wife, Clare, a retired high school teacher. (She taught ESL, English as a Second Language.) Clare was officially diagnosed with early/young onset AD at age 62 in 2009, but I had already been noticing AD symptoms for 3 years before her official diagnosis. In 2007 and 2008, despite showing clear AD symptoms (to me, at least!) at home, Clare performed extremely well on various AD screening tests given by our internist and a neurologist, had normal brain scans, and never exhibited any AD symptoms when we were with doctors. I had started keeping daily logs of my observations of her behaviors at home that seemed to be early signs of AD, and I tried to share these with doctors during each visit. However, my logs and observations were routinely ignored. Even as Clare’s test scores significantly worsened, she continued receiving treatment first for stress, then for anxiety, and then for depression ... but not for AD.
Every week I took her out at least once for dinner and/or we got together with friends for dinner, saw local musical shows (Clare still remembered most of the music!), or cuddled on benches at the beach while looking out at the water. In addition, once or twice a week I took Clare out for lunch and then cuddled with her in one of the lounges in her assisted living facility for another hour or so. I'd kiss her and hug her while watching TV in the facility lounge while Clare fell asleep in my arms. I was told that Clare had no memory of my having been with her just minutes after I left, and if not immediately re-directed to an activity she started asking aides repeatedly, "Has anyone seen my husband." Of course, even when I was cuddling her, Clare would ask me the same question ... "Can you please help me find my husband?" Nevertheless, whenever with me, Clare was extremely happy, telling me over and over that "you are such a nice man" (and, increasingly, "you are such a nice lady") and telling me how much she loved me.
In April, 2015, I skipped 7 daily visits in order to drive out to spend time with our son and family in Michigan ... and to see our granddaughters participating in some of their activities in person instead of on video. They missed seeing their Pop Pop and I missed being with them just as much. During my visit, Clare's facility director emailed me daily to say that Clare was doing fine and I should relax and enjoy my visit. Those emails definitely helped me to relax and ease some of my worries ... and guilt ... and I decided to visit my son and his family again every few months from then on, just as Clare and I had always done before Alzheimer's made it too difficult to travel. On subsequent visits, I learned that there was no difference in Clare's behavior when I was gone.
By this time I had also taken on a major new role ... caregiver advocate. Whereas Clare's assisted living facility was an excellent setting, there were numerous "glitches" that were not satisfactorily resolved until I went up the chain of command to speak with the executive director. Eventually, I had a "set meeting" with the director every 2 weeks, and there would always be improvement after each meeting. However, many of the same problems continued to resurface, mostly due to insufficient training of aides and lack of supervision of aides.
On July 21, 2015, a segment of the CBS TV Evening News showed Clare and me as part of a feature story on Alzheimer's. You can see both the on-air footage as well as extended footage at http://www.cbsnews.com/videos/when-alzheimers-disrupts-a-marriage/ and you can see Dr. LaPook's interview of me at http://www.cbsnews.com/news/alzheimers-disease-women-decline-faster-than-men/.
Whereas CBS edited a lengthy one hour interview into a brief human interest story to increase AD awareness ... and Clare looked beautiful ... everything I said about the need for increased federal funding for AD research and other important matters ended up on the proverbial cutting room floor. (In the spring of 2017, a year after Clare died, I was contacted by CBS for a follow-up interview, but I declined.)
Fast forward to September of 2015. Clare still recognized me on site, but more and more she referred to me as a "nice man" or "nice lady." I also had to stop taking Clare out to eat as often because she was just too confused, too anxious, and very disoriented when we'd return. I was also restricted to only being able to take her to places where I could go into the bathroom with her.
I am a retired elementary school teacher and elementary/intermediate school principal living in Commack, Long Island, NY. Sadly, only 7 years after retirement I had become a 24/7 caregiver for my wife, Clare, a retired high school teacher. (She taught ESL, English as a Second Language.) Clare was officially diagnosed with early/young onset AD at age 62 in 2009, but I had already been noticing AD symptoms for 3 years before her official diagnosis. In 2007 and 2008, despite showing clear AD symptoms (to me, at least!) at home, Clare performed extremely well on various AD screening tests given by our internist and a neurologist, had normal brain scans, and never exhibited any AD symptoms when we were with doctors. I had started keeping daily logs of my observations of her behaviors at home that seemed to be early signs of AD, and I tried to share these with doctors during each visit. However, my logs and observations were routinely ignored. Even as Clare’s test scores significantly worsened, she continued receiving treatment first for stress, then for anxiety, and then for depression ... but not for AD.
Clare kept insisting to me that nothing was wrong with her, but I was increasingly worried. In the spring of 2009, frustrated that my observations were being totally dismissed by Clare's doctors, I finally convinced Clare to let me take her for a second opinion with doctors affiliated with an Alzheimer’s Disease Research Center in NYC. After less than 2 months of testing, Clare was diagnosed with early/young onset AD and told to stop taking all medication for stress, anxiety, and depression.
Shortly thereafter, Clare started taking Aricept. In 2010, Clare participated in a year-long Phase III clinical trial with a medication that was eventually declared totally ineffective. When the trial ended in 2011, Clare started taking Namenda in addition to Aricept. In 2013, I removed Clare from both Aricept and Namenda due to concerns over side effects and after discovering the complete absence of any research indicating that either medication could possibly be effective after 2 or more years.
Clare’s AD had followed a fairly consistent pattern for several years, one that I described as a series of “cliff falls and plateaus.” Clare would suddenly display a significant decline in one particular AD behavior, just as though she had fallen off a cliff. She would then stabilize and maintain herself at that level for 3-6 months, as though on a plateau. Then she would suddenly fall off another cliff, followed several months later by another plateau.
For 3 years after Clare's diagnosis, we both attended weekly support groups at the Long Island Alzheimer’s Foundation (LIAF) in Port Washington. (LIAF has since moved to Westbury, and has been renamed as the Long Island Alzheimer's and Dementia Center.) Clare attended a support group for those in early to moderate stages of AD, while I attended a support group for spouse caregivers. Groups met in separate rooms at the same time. We withdrew from our support groups in the fall of 2012 because I needed to place Clare in social day care programs to give me some respite time, and those programs conflicted with support group meeting times.
Clare’s cliff fall/plateau pattern continued until mid-November of 2012 when Clare suddenly fell off a new cliff without reaching any plateau. She continued to spiral down what seemed to be a bottomless black hole. As Clare’s decline worsened I kept increasing her attendance at day care programs to provide me with more respite time, and to try to provide her with more socialization and mental stimulation.
When we had retired in 2000, Clare and I discussed what we wanted should either of us ever require extensive health care at some point in our lives ... remain at home with 24/7 health aides if necessary, or be placed in an assisted living or nursing home facility. We both decided that if we ever needed such a high level of care, we preferred to be placed in facilities and we took out long-term health care policies to help cover such costs if that became a reality for either one of us.
When we had retired in 2000, Clare and I discussed what we wanted should either of us ever require extensive health care at some point in our lives ... remain at home with 24/7 health aides if necessary, or be placed in an assisted living or nursing home facility. We both decided that if we ever needed such a high level of care, we preferred to be placed in facilities and we took out long-term health care policies to help cover such costs if that became a reality for either one of us.
By the summer of 2013, Clare was dependent upon me for just about everything. I was okay with that, learning to cope with what was happening to her. But what I was not okay with was what her AD was doing to our relationship. After so many years of as wonderful a marriage as anyone could ever hope to have, we were now having daily arguments over ADLs ... Activities of Daily Living ... such as basic hygiene, bathing, dressing, eating, etc. Whenever I tried to help her, Clare would scream at me that she was not a baby and could do whatever it was I was trying to help her with by herself, without any help from me. But, of course, she couldn't wash or dress herself properly, toilet herself properly, remember to take her daily meds, etc.
I had hoped that, if placed in an assisted living facility, personnel in that facility would deal with her ADLs and therefore remove those situations that caused daily arguments with me. That way, I thought, when I'd visit her each day we could just spend happy time together without arguing about anything. In addition, I hoped that a daily program of activities she enjoyed would keep her mind engaged ... music, art, etc. ... and she would enjoy socializing with others also dealing with AD. So, in September of 2013, I placed Clare in an assisted living facility.
For the next 6 months, I visited Clare daily from 3-5 p.m., leaving when it was time for dinner unless I was taking her out for dinner. In March, 2014, I was asked to either hire an aide from 5:30-7 p.m. or stay with her myself during that time because Clare was becoming increasingly anxious after dinner, worried about me and missing me, and requiring the full-time attention of an aide. I chose to stay for that extra time. Unless I was taking Clare out for dinner, I usually came to visit at 3 p.m., ate a "bag sandwich supper" in an adjacent room while she had dinner in her lockdown AD unit at 5, and then after dinner we'd go to a lounge and watch a nature show on TV for another 2 hours. Sometimes, I'd get permission to bring Clare out with her dinner to eat alongside me in the lounge. More often than not, while cuddling and talking on that couch in the lounge with the TV on in the background, Clare would fall asleep in my arms.
Clare was now becoming confused all the time, losing most of her language skills, and unable to understand simple concepts. She no longer knew my name and she no longer knew that I was her husband ... but she still recognized me as someone important in her life. Although not knowing my name or that we were married, I was now the only "face" she recognized either in person or in pictures.
By August, 2014, I was in and out of depression. On the advice of her facility's social worker, I reduced my 4 hours of daily visitation time to "move on" with my own life. I reduced my daily visits to just 5:30-7 p.m., but continued taking her out for 4 hours each Sunday. I then started skipping one day each week, then 2 days, but after a few weeks I went back to my daily 4 hour visits because Clare was so happy whenever she was with me. This was happiness only I could provide, but I must confess that I had also been missing her so very much on days I didn't see her. I realized that I was just not ready yet to "move on with my life" without her. After I made that decision to see Clare again on a daily basis for 4 hours, I felt much better emotionally ... and I even began sleeping better.
For the next 6 months, I visited Clare daily from 3-5 p.m., leaving when it was time for dinner unless I was taking her out for dinner. In March, 2014, I was asked to either hire an aide from 5:30-7 p.m. or stay with her myself during that time because Clare was becoming increasingly anxious after dinner, worried about me and missing me, and requiring the full-time attention of an aide. I chose to stay for that extra time. Unless I was taking Clare out for dinner, I usually came to visit at 3 p.m., ate a "bag sandwich supper" in an adjacent room while she had dinner in her lockdown AD unit at 5, and then after dinner we'd go to a lounge and watch a nature show on TV for another 2 hours. Sometimes, I'd get permission to bring Clare out with her dinner to eat alongside me in the lounge. More often than not, while cuddling and talking on that couch in the lounge with the TV on in the background, Clare would fall asleep in my arms.
Clare was now becoming confused all the time, losing most of her language skills, and unable to understand simple concepts. She no longer knew my name and she no longer knew that I was her husband ... but she still recognized me as someone important in her life. Although not knowing my name or that we were married, I was now the only "face" she recognized either in person or in pictures.
By August, 2014, I was in and out of depression. On the advice of her facility's social worker, I reduced my 4 hours of daily visitation time to "move on" with my own life. I reduced my daily visits to just 5:30-7 p.m., but continued taking her out for 4 hours each Sunday. I then started skipping one day each week, then 2 days, but after a few weeks I went back to my daily 4 hour visits because Clare was so happy whenever she was with me. This was happiness only I could provide, but I must confess that I had also been missing her so very much on days I didn't see her. I realized that I was just not ready yet to "move on with my life" without her. After I made that decision to see Clare again on a daily basis for 4 hours, I felt much better emotionally ... and I even began sleeping better.
Every week I took her out at least once for dinner and/or we got together with friends for dinner, saw local musical shows (Clare still remembered most of the music!), or cuddled on benches at the beach while looking out at the water. In addition, once or twice a week I took Clare out for lunch and then cuddled with her in one of the lounges in her assisted living facility for another hour or so. I'd kiss her and hug her while watching TV in the facility lounge while Clare fell asleep in my arms. I was told that Clare had no memory of my having been with her just minutes after I left, and if not immediately re-directed to an activity she started asking aides repeatedly, "Has anyone seen my husband." Of course, even when I was cuddling her, Clare would ask me the same question ... "Can you please help me find my husband?" Nevertheless, whenever with me, Clare was extremely happy, telling me over and over that "you are such a nice man" (and, increasingly, "you are such a nice lady") and telling me how much she loved me.
In April, 2015, I skipped 7 daily visits in order to drive out to spend time with our son and family in Michigan ... and to see our granddaughters participating in some of their activities in person instead of on video. They missed seeing their Pop Pop and I missed being with them just as much. During my visit, Clare's facility director emailed me daily to say that Clare was doing fine and I should relax and enjoy my visit. Those emails definitely helped me to relax and ease some of my worries ... and guilt ... and I decided to visit my son and his family again every few months from then on, just as Clare and I had always done before Alzheimer's made it too difficult to travel. On subsequent visits, I learned that there was no difference in Clare's behavior when I was gone.
By this time I had also taken on a major new role ... caregiver advocate. Whereas Clare's assisted living facility was an excellent setting, there were numerous "glitches" that were not satisfactorily resolved until I went up the chain of command to speak with the executive director. Eventually, I had a "set meeting" with the director every 2 weeks, and there would always be improvement after each meeting. However, many of the same problems continued to resurface, mostly due to insufficient training of aides and lack of supervision of aides.
On July 21, 2015, a segment of the CBS TV Evening News showed Clare and me as part of a feature story on Alzheimer's. You can see both the on-air footage as well as extended footage at http://www.cbsnews.com/videos/when-alzheimers-disrupts-a-marriage/ and you can see Dr. LaPook's interview of me at http://www.cbsnews.com/news/alzheimers-disease-women-decline-faster-than-men/.
Whereas CBS edited a lengthy one hour interview into a brief human interest story to increase AD awareness ... and Clare looked beautiful ... everything I said about the need for increased federal funding for AD research and other important matters ended up on the proverbial cutting room floor. (In the spring of 2017, a year after Clare died, I was contacted by CBS for a follow-up interview, but I declined.)
Fast forward to September of 2015. Clare still recognized me on site, but more and more she referred to me as a "nice man" or "nice lady." I also had to stop taking Clare out to eat as often because she was just too confused, too anxious, and very disoriented when we'd return. I was also restricted to only being able to take her to places where I could go into the bathroom with her.
Feeling both married and widowed at the same time, a feeling that was incredibly painful, I then cut back to only 5 visits each week, but continued stress prevented me from moving forward. On the advice of the facility social worker, I then cut back to 3 visits each week so I could stop grieving and mourning and move on with the rest of my life as just Allan ... no longer as part of Clare and Allan.
However, my plans did not materialize. In mid-October Clare suddenly became much more anxious and aggressive when I was not with her. I had to hire additional personal aides for 40 hours each week to calm her down and re-direct her back to activities when she got very upset, but not even personal aides proved helpful. In late November, Clare was discharged from her assisted living facility to a psychiatric hospital. I visited her every single morning and evening during their one-hour visit times. She remained there for 3 weeks under a psychiatrist's care and was removed from all of her current medication. New medication was successfully introduced, and Clare was able to return to her assisted living facility on one condition ... that I now hire a personal aide to be with her for at least 70 hours each week.
Through February, 2016, Clare remained at her assisted living facility and I visited 4 times a week. Clare started crying more often during the day and was no longer participating in daily activities, despite the best efforts of her aides. I knew that the time to move her to a nursing home had arrived. A hospitalization for 5 days in early March due to mobility issues served as a transition stage and, instead of returning to her assisted living facility, Clare was discharged from the hospital directly to the nursing home that I had selected for her.
For the most part, Clare adjusted well to her new nursing home surroundings and I was very pleased with the higher quality of care she was now receiving. I was visiting at least 5 times each week, but after several weeks I had to stop taking her out for lunch ... now confined to a wheelchair, Clare also started having difficulty swallowing food and meds, and she was increasingly more confused and disoriented. Clare's body seemed to be breaking down completely, and only 33 days after admission into the nursing home, Clare passed away calmly in her sleep ... one month shy of her 70th birthday and 2 months shy of what would have been our 49th wedding anniversary.
Despite already grieving for Clare for many years before she died, her death hit me like a ton of bricks ... but I took comfort in knowing that it was "Clare’s time." She had actually said to me several times in her final weeks, “I can’t do this anymore.” Whenever I asked what it was that she couldn’t do anymore, she was unable to tell me. I think that Clare somehow understood that her body was becoming increasingly impaired and she did not like being confined to a wheelchair, having difficulties swallowing, waiting to be spoon-fed, sitting in soiled diapers, etc. I honestly think that she was ready to die. I’m just happy that she was relatively calm during her last few days ... and that she was very happy when with me ... even if she didn't know who I was.
I will go to my grave believing that right before Clare died, we shared some sort of "cosmic connection" ... as if Clare had somehow read my Huffington Post column published on 4/11/16, the day before she died. That column was titled, "Alzheimer's Spouse Not Ready to Move On." It's as though Clare had somehow read that column and thought after reading it, "Hon, you really need to let me go and move on with your own life, so I'm gonna make it easier for you to do that." (Clare was always more worried about me than about herself.) You can read that article on my Huffington Post archive site.
However, my plans did not materialize. In mid-October Clare suddenly became much more anxious and aggressive when I was not with her. I had to hire additional personal aides for 40 hours each week to calm her down and re-direct her back to activities when she got very upset, but not even personal aides proved helpful. In late November, Clare was discharged from her assisted living facility to a psychiatric hospital. I visited her every single morning and evening during their one-hour visit times. She remained there for 3 weeks under a psychiatrist's care and was removed from all of her current medication. New medication was successfully introduced, and Clare was able to return to her assisted living facility on one condition ... that I now hire a personal aide to be with her for at least 70 hours each week.
Through February, 2016, Clare remained at her assisted living facility and I visited 4 times a week. Clare started crying more often during the day and was no longer participating in daily activities, despite the best efforts of her aides. I knew that the time to move her to a nursing home had arrived. A hospitalization for 5 days in early March due to mobility issues served as a transition stage and, instead of returning to her assisted living facility, Clare was discharged from the hospital directly to the nursing home that I had selected for her.
For the most part, Clare adjusted well to her new nursing home surroundings and I was very pleased with the higher quality of care she was now receiving. I was visiting at least 5 times each week, but after several weeks I had to stop taking her out for lunch ... now confined to a wheelchair, Clare also started having difficulty swallowing food and meds, and she was increasingly more confused and disoriented. Clare's body seemed to be breaking down completely, and only 33 days after admission into the nursing home, Clare passed away calmly in her sleep ... one month shy of her 70th birthday and 2 months shy of what would have been our 49th wedding anniversary.
Despite already grieving for Clare for many years before she died, her death hit me like a ton of bricks ... but I took comfort in knowing that it was "Clare’s time." She had actually said to me several times in her final weeks, “I can’t do this anymore.” Whenever I asked what it was that she couldn’t do anymore, she was unable to tell me. I think that Clare somehow understood that her body was becoming increasingly impaired and she did not like being confined to a wheelchair, having difficulties swallowing, waiting to be spoon-fed, sitting in soiled diapers, etc. I honestly think that she was ready to die. I’m just happy that she was relatively calm during her last few days ... and that she was very happy when with me ... even if she didn't know who I was.
I will go to my grave believing that right before Clare died, we shared some sort of "cosmic connection" ... as if Clare had somehow read my Huffington Post column published on 4/11/16, the day before she died. That column was titled, "Alzheimer's Spouse Not Ready to Move On." It's as though Clare had somehow read that column and thought after reading it, "Hon, you really need to let me go and move on with your own life, so I'm gonna make it easier for you to do that." (Clare was always more worried about me than about herself.) You can read that article on my Huffington Post archive site.
Writing and posting Personal Blog columns about how I was coping and trying to move on with my life after Clare passed away was very difficult for me. However, I also knew that I needed to write about what I was experiencing if I was ever going to get past my pain and mourning. Trying to move forward was definitely not easy for me, but after battling depression and anxiety for several more years I was finally able to move on with my life. In fact, I was even lucky enough to find true love again, something I never expected to happen. That love got me through those Covid years.
I will be 77 in a few months and consider myself lucky to still be able to enjoy the love of a special woman, and enjoy the love and companionship of close family and friends. Despite some recent health setbacks, I am still able to enjoy league bowling, lift weights, engage in other physical activities, and do some domestic travel. But most of all, I still enjoy writing and engaging in other activities to try to improve the lives of people with AD and their care partners.
Along with posting occasional PB columns in recent years, I am also trying to help caregivers in indirect ways. In 2021 and 2022 I was invited to serve as a caregiver consultant for an NIH/NIA funded task force, GEAR 2.0 (Geriatric Emergency care Applied Research) that is seeking to improve treatment of people with AD in hospital emergency rooms. Starting in 2022, I have also been serving as a caregiver consultant for CISCRP (Center for Information and Study on Clinical Research Participation), helping a pharmaceutical company establish effective protocols to enlist and retain participants in clinical trials with new potentially effective AD medication.
How this site is structured
Except for my 35 columns in The Huffington Post, which can all be read at https://www.huffpost.com/author/acvann-498, all of my published journal, magazine, and newspaper articles are posted on this site. Almost all are articles in their published form where I hold the copyright or have permission to post a copy on my site. A few articles, however, are posted in original pre-publication versions to avoid copyright issues. When you come to the "My Published Articles" part of this site, my most recent article will always appear first. None of my Personal Blog columns have ever been sent off for possible publication ... these are just columns expressing my views on topics that I feel may be helpful for other caregivers. When you click on "Blog Archive" at the right side of this page, a list of all of my published articles and all of my Personal Blog columns will appear in order of publication. Click on the month and title of any article or Personal Blog you wish to read. Following each article is a link to access the published version, but there may be costs involved to access some published articles. Since I started this site and posted all of my published articles up through that date in August, 2013, my first 15 published articles are all listed as if published in that month.
I had planned to stop writing about Alzheimer's in 2017 since I was no longer dealing with AD on a daily basis. However, in March, 2017, a medical journal editor invited me to write online columns for their bi-monthly peer-reviewed medical journal, Annals of Long-Term Care, a leading long-term care journal and an official publication of the American Geriatrics Society. The journal is directed to doctors, nurses, health care workers and administrators in all types of long-term/post-acute care settings, such as Assisted Living Facilities and Nursing Homes. I could not say no to this opportunity to reach medical staff and administrators in long-term care settings. My ALTC articles may be read on this site exactly as they appeared online (a few also appeared in their print issues) or may be accessed at my ALTC archive page ... http://www.managedhealthcareconnect.com/blogger/allan-s-vann-edd.
After Clare passed away, it took me 4 years to get past my all of my depression and sadness to allow me to fully move on with the rest of my life. I have written and posted a series of Personal Blog columns describing my bumpy road to move on, and I hope these columns have been helpful to those readers also having difficulties moving on after losing their loved ones. Once again, my Personal Blogs have never been submitted for publication elsewhere ... they appear only on this site.
After Clare passed away, it took me 4 years to get past my all of my depression and sadness to allow me to fully move on with the rest of my life. I have written and posted a series of Personal Blog columns describing my bumpy road to move on, and I hope these columns have been helpful to those readers also having difficulties moving on after losing their loved ones. Once again, my Personal Blogs have never been submitted for publication elsewhere ... they appear only on this site.
Some final words
AD caregivers all deal with somewhat different issues because, as I was told on my first day in my spouse caregiver support group, “If you know one person with AD, then you know one person with AD.” All caregivers care for loved ones with AD, but our loved ones do not all present the same symptoms ... and our greatest daily stressors are different for each of us. For some caregivers, it's behavioral issues. For some it's being asked the same question over and over. For some it's the inability of our loved one to carry out the simplest one-step direction. For some it's the complications arising from non-AD conditions such as heart disease, diabetes, or Parkinson’s. For some it's the time demands, especially if the caregiver is still working. And for some caregivers, the greatest stressor is the financial side of AD ... worries about how to pay for home health aides, companions, day care programs, assisted living, or nursing home placements ... and wondering how an ever-draining bank account will leave you with enough money to maintain your current life style after this AD journey with your loved one is over.
Despite these differences, however, all AD caregivers have one thing in common: We are all paddling our boats as hard as we can, trying to stay afloat in Lake Alzheimer’s. We may be paddling in different boats and we may be paddling at different speeds, but we all “get it” ... we all understand what it is like to be an AD caregiver.
Again, please feel free to comment on anything on this website and I promise to respond to each and every email. Simply address your comment to me at acvann@optonline.net. I hope you find something on this site to help make your life, and/or the life of your loved one with AD, just a little bit easier. Stay safe and stay well. Allan
