Is It Alzheimer's? Step Two for the "Lucky"

Step Two is for really lucky childsters. Take your parent to a geriatric specialist--a geriatrician--for a full assessment. Don't rely on the same old doctor that they have been going to for years, unless of course you are hoping to kill your parent off early.

The geriatrician will solve all your problems, right? Diagnose the memory and physical problems, make recommendations for long term care, and generally improve the Oldster's quality of life. Right?

Dream on.

Actually, I didn't get my dad to a geriatrician until after seeing many other doctors and after I'd moved him and we'd both gone through hell. Now that we have finally found a good geriatrician, we love him. Finding him sooner may have saved us considerable time and frustration, not the least of which was dealing with the Neurologist. You haven't experienced true frustration until you've dealt with a Neurologist. More on that later.

Even if you are lucky enough to get your Oldster into a geriatrician, you still have lots of doctors to see. My priority was to get a diagnosis, treatment options, and someone else to validate what I already knew...that he couldn't live alone and he couldn't live 2 hours from friends and family.

I also had to handle his financial affairs and his business. And I had to do it all perfectly, as he and I are both perfectionists. But my true priority was improving his health and stabilizing the situation.

One thing I discovered from my research is that, for the Oldster, loss of hearing or sight can throw them over the edge. So over a period of 4-5 months, I set up lots of appointments--with all new doctors. This was facilitated by the fact that he moved to another city to be close to family.

Boy did he need new doctors. His old opthamologist said he didn't have cataracts and that there was nothing to be done about my Dad's failing eye sight. A new opthamologist said he had horrible cataracts that had been there for a long, long time. Two cataract surgeries later, Dad barely uses glasses.

And it was not just the opthamologist. The general practitioner and urologist seemed to be trying to kill him off.

Yes, I know. There is no way your parent will let you do this stuff. And you don't have time, or you live far away. You can't make all these appointments and lead your own life, too. But you do it anyway. There is just no other choice. You love your parent dearly, and they need you now. I didn't sleep for 6 months, knowing what had to be done. I knew before he did. That was horrible for me, and unfair to him. It still breaks my heart. Aging sucks.

I just kept telling myself, "One foot in front of the other." Keep moving forward, doing the next thing. Doing the right thing as best you know it. And my boss kept telling me, "Don't engage." When my Dad yelled, I listened. I hugged. I took it. Because he was ultimately losing so much more than I. He needed to get angry, and sad, and frustrated. Oldsters lose so much: health is failing, friends and loved ones are dying, and they are losing control. Plus they see the end of their own life only too clearly. This was not about me at all, even though I am essentially losing my Dad. It's about him. It's ALL about him. Once he could listen, but he's not capable of that much anymore. All I can do is love him. Cry at night for my own losses and his, but whatever else, don't argue. (It's useless to argue with someone with dementia anyway.)

Mantra: Don't engage, don't engage, don't engage.