It's scary when I suddenly forget things I've known for decades, or can't think of some complex word or phrase I've been comfortable using. My grandmother had Alzheimers, and my dad was diagnosed with dementia over 10 years ago.Lucy wrote: ↑Thu Nov 30, 2017 3:26 amHumor is how we handled the Alzheimers in my family. And humor is how we continue to handle the other brain problems. There's been some really difficult shit, so we make light of it to try to be less miserable. It definitely helps. And it signals to people unfamiliar with the situation that we've accepted it for what it is and they don't have to tiptoe.Valka D'Ur wrote: ↑Sun Nov 05, 2017 7:54 amMy mother used to make a sort of "absentminded ding-a-ling" gesture with her finger beside her head if she forgot something, and she'd grin and say, "Alzheimers!".
I finally told her I would appreciate if she'd stop doing that. She knew perfectly well that Alzheimers is what killed my grandmother (not her mom, my dad's mom), and my dad and I found her dead on her bedroom floor.
So I have no sense of humor whatsoever about Alzheimers. I regard it as a hostile act for people to shove such "humor" in my face, once they know my family's circumstances.
Yeah, making light of someone's trauma, when you know about it, is being a dick. Do you have any sense of humor about forgetfulness at all? i can't imagine not laughing at myself when I notice my brain hiccuped.
This is why I'm so angry with the current federal government with their inadequate approach to doctor-assisted dying. I don't want to end up like my grandmother. I'd rather be dead than end up like her, suffering as she did for the last year of her life. Thank goodness she went relatively quickly, rather than spending a decade or more as just a body that has to be cared for and there's nothing coherent going on in the mind. She was constantly afraid, because she didn't know anything, didn't recognize any of us, and could no longer care for herself (and since my dad and I weren't that well either, we found it difficult).
What I want is the legal right to make advance arrangements, so it's my choice. That's not part of the legislation, and the kicker is that once a doctor signs that piece of paper giving his diagnosis, the person is not legally able to give consent or make their own arrangements, nor can anyone else give consent even if the patient expresses that he/she wants it.
As for gallows humor... I find nothing funny about forgetfulness. It's scary. I'm upfront about it, though. For example, if I go into a room and forget why I went there, I just return to where I was, hoping something will jog my memory. It usually does. Or if I forget someone's name, I just tell them, "I'm sorry, but I'm blanking on your name, please remind me."
I'm constantly writing notes to myself, that this or that has to be done. I don't rely on just my memory any more, because I don't keep a regular schedule, and sometimes days just flow from one to the other and I lose track of time. I've got a note on my typing table right now, reminding myself to take care of month-end bills tomorrow.