With my dad, Alzheimer’s disease moved slowly but surely. Tell-tale signs here and there, and then one day, boom, it hits you. Dad had dementia and there’s no turning back.
With my mom, it seemed so sudden, though probably her health issues had been creeping up on her for some time. Her issues are primarily physical, while Dad’s were mainly mental. So health-wise, they are on opposite ends of the spectrum, but for me, the stress is identical.
I feel like I’ve been dropped back into that video game world, where your character is supposed to navigate around the bad guys and tense situations. Even sleep is troubled with stressful visions. I spent almost all of 2011 in this state. It is not a healthy state to be in, but I must be there for my mom, just like I tried to be there for my dad.
Yet again, there’s that gnawing feeling, that I should be with my mom right now, and accompany her to her appointment with the specialist tomorrow. (For the record, Mom soundly rejected that idea. She’s not gone yet!) Still, the tension of living with a parent who inches ever closer to Death becomes a shadow that fills every crevice of your life.
I only have one more shot at doing this right. I already regret not spending enough time with Dad while he was alive. I feel like I’m walking the same road with Mom right now, but until we get a proper diagnosis, I feel we are in this terrible limbo.
I really feel for you there. I watch my dad in a slow decline since mum died, but I’m too far away to help or visit him often. The guilt is crushing sometimes, but I know that even if I was next door, he’d refuse help. Stubborn old goat.