
One
Family's Journey Through Alzheimer's Disease by Mary B. Walsh
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(Excerpt)
October '91
Visit to the Dentist
Gram lost a tootha front one.
Although at a point where she was not really aware of it, we felt that if she was she
would want to have it taken care of.
When I called the dentists office to make an appointment I asked the receptionist to
make a note that she has Alzheimers. I wanted the dentist to be prepared
for....whatever.
When Gram met the dentist she greeted him with a smile so broad he didnt have to ask
why we were there.
"I see youve lost a tooth, Mrs.Walsh!"
She continued to smile.
"My, but youre a handsome man! Dont you think so. darling?" she
asked looking over at me.
"Do you think you could sit in this chair, Mrs.Walsh, and well take a look to
see what needs to be done?"
"My, what a lovely chair it is! Certainly!"
She positioned herself carefully in the chair and as the dentist slowly lowered her head
preparing to get to work, she looked intently up into his"handsome" face. He
took some impressions so he could have a partial plate made to replace her missing . When
he finished he raised the chair.
Respite
The word "respite" to
the care giver is as the word "oasis" to the parched, weary desert traveler.
Webster defines it as "
temporary relief, as from work or pain". I had
heard the word a number of times throughout our years caring for "Gram", always
alluded to as something far-off and almost unattainable
It brought to mind pleasant thoughts of "relaxation", strolling leisurely along
a white sandy beach, collecting rare and beautiful shells as the sunlit aqua waves rolled
in, refreshing my bare sandy feet. Having completed my collection; starfish, perhaps a
sand-dollar or two, oyster (with a rare pearl awaiting my discovery no doubt), I could see
the blanket spread out beneath the golden rays of the mid-day sun, inviting me to spend
the rest of the day doing
absolutely nothing! (..aside from perhaps beginning a new
chapter of my book in progress while sipping a tall glass of ice tea with a sliver of real
lemon
.)
After six years of caring for Gram we were finally able to arrange a "respite"
for the family.
As I look back now to that fanciful ocean scene I am amused. Why
does a picture come to mind instead of a desert traveler, dying of thirst, skin blistered
from the brutal sun, crawling with his last ounce of strength to reach that oasis, only to
find that it was only a
.mirage?
The following is a journal
entry relating some of the "events" of our long awaited
"respite"
.
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