Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Grandpa

Grandpa came to visit. It was painful- poisonous in fact. He's lost in his own stages of grief over the illness that has taken his only child, his only son. He stayed in a cottage at the nursing home. The visit made it clear to Jack and I that we have not only lost Bill. We lost part of our family. Grandpa was critical, angry with us. How could we do this? Bill doesn't have anything wrong with him. He doesn't belong here. Jack, you should visit your father no less than twice a week.... your mom is wrong, wrong, wrong...The guilt flowed freely on Sunday as my family gathered around with us for support as we celebrated Jack's 18th birthday at Bill's nursing home.

Of course Grandpa wasn't there when we went through crisis. When Bill would refuse to listen and take the car and be missing for hours as I waited for the police to knock on the door- which did happen... he wrecked, putting innocent people in the hospital. Grandpa wasn't there when Bill's disease decided Jack was the enemy, physically threatening, emotionally raping our baby boy. The very presence of Jack would turn Bill into a jealous raging maniac. I sent Jack to friends' homes for two solid months prior to moving home. Once back home in Kansas when Bill would become hostile towards Jack I could turn to family for support. Jack had no home for over a year.

Grandpa doesn't see the grief and the guilt we live with, the times Jack weeps and wants to die because he misses his daddy, the sadness, anger, grief I feel as my guts turn inside out... he's not there when I hold my huge baby boy and tell him it's not our fault, it's not his fault... we have to make it together. He's not there when Jack talks about the old times when daddy liked him...

I've thought about bringing him home. I have. It always comes back to this: What if he has another episode where he decides to end it all, to take us all out. Would I ever sleep again? Would I have to hover over Jack to protect him.

I made the right decision. I did. I hope you find peace, Grandpa. I hope you can forgive us. I wish you would stand by our side, to help us, to support us, to make us feel better when we are sad, scared...alone.


Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Dreams

‎"There is only one way to happiness and that is to stop worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will." - Epictetus - What a nightmare. Or would I call it a dream? It took me a couple of hours to remember the actual dream. I was too busy dealing with the physical results. I woke sitting straight up out of bed this morning, heart pounding, sweating, feeling a pounding, smothering pressure. Ah, so this is the proverbial elephant on your chest I have heard others speak of. Truly, I woke struggling to catch my breath. After washing my face and getting enough control of my shaking legs to actually walk down the stairs without falling, I made my way downstairs. For a brief moment I forgot the feelings that were overcoming me. The coffee tasted delicious as I sat down to begin my day.It is my usual fix for emotional overload. I'm a suppresser. Emotions- extreme emotions- are beyond my comfort zone and this day was going to be a whopper. Tears fell freely, anger flared, I actually considered eating my first born. There was a fog that enveloped me throughout my morning- actually throughout my whole day. It was funny when it dawned on me what had caused my dark mood. The memory was gone and suddenly it was there again. The dream. Flashes come to my minds eye. He's with me. He's out of control. I chase frantically after him as he acts out impulsively. He runs left, he runs right, he runs in front of cars... a crowd... he disappears in the crowd... where is he... oh my gawd, he has the keys. He has the keys. We are at a gas station where he overpowers me and takes the keys. He gets in, hits the gas, screaming out of the parking lot without removing the gas pump hose. I see the hose pull, the gas pump sway back and forth, tipping, tipping... the car, watch out for the car... that's when I woke, sweat dripping from my body, fear writhing in my body. How do I keep him safe? He's going to kill us, to kill somebody else. I was reliving my fears before putting Bill in the nursing home in February, seven months ago. Man, it pisses me off when I hit these funks, these momentary lapses in feeling safe, of feeling like I have control of the situation. The triggers just appear. This week is full of triggers.
My fear will be gone for weeks at a time, then suddenly reappear. Most of my stress and fear seems to come out in my dreams. I know there are literally hundreds of studies on dreams and suppressed emotions. I could be an entire study. The triggers? Daily life. Today is my mom and dad's anniversary... I miss my father so much after dying unexpectedly two years ago. I can still hear is laugh, feel him hold me. Such a daddy's girl. Tomorrow is our anniversary. Twenty five years. And this week is also the 18th birthday of our son, Jack. Jack is our miracle baby. He was born despite my having cancer and undergoing almost two years of chemo and radiation. The miracle baby that saved our marriage at the time turns 18. It should be a significant event for all of us, right? So much responsibility, figuring out where to have the party so we can include his dad... worrying about how to keep us all safe, make it a celebration, I see the wedding pictures every day. Those along with all the other happy family pictures are stacked up against the wall upstairs. I don't know what to do with them? Hang them? Pack them? Do I put these away and pretend they don't exist? Is it fair to Jack to just erase those phases in our life? Doesn't he have a right to remember even though it's so hard on me, so contradictory to the emotions I feel, the memories that I hold in my heart. It's so unfair. He's so nice to those in the nursing home and I know it appears to them that he is the victim here, that he has been abandoned by his wife, by his son. It's so hard to go, to visit, to answer his questions about when he gets to come home. Do I give him hope? Do I tell him the truth? The truth didn't work out so well for us in the past. It was like living the movie the first fifty dates over and over again except ours was the nightmare version. You can't drive. You can't teach. You have Alzheimer's. Watching his denial, the grueling emotions of anger, pacing, writhing, and finally coming to the conclusion to end it all- for all of us. Ok, so I made it through another day- this one not quite as easy as others, but I made it. We made it. Dreams....

Friday, August 31, 2012

A post from Jack

altztimers is a very hard and difficult thing to deal with. and what makes it hard is its like that person is dead but that person is still here but isn't them. Peoples lives change drastically and it isn't even their fault and it just effects everyone around them and it just gets worse and worse cause before you know it things change so fast. I should know i deal with it and it has changed my life so drastically and it is just getting worse. Everyone thinks they know how i feel but no one really do.. i feel so alone cause no one understands how i truely feel. well enough is now gotta go.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Six months later...

Wow. It is so difficult for me to put into words what all has happened over the past few months. For one thing, when I try to think back it is all such a blur. The divorce Bill requested is in limbo because of his cognitive decline. So, thousands of dollars later... the courts deemed me the guardian and conservator. My head is still swimming with all the paperwork and demands I have to fulfill. I begged my attorney to find another guardian, but they pretty much gave me no choice in the matter. It's taking me some time to heal. I get mental blocks when I try to weed through all of this, all of the legalities and paperwork demands absolutely make me cringe. I don't even know where to start! These issues, however, only make me realize how far we've come. The mind chatter that drives me crazy at night is getting easier to redirect. I realize all that chatter is the voice of fear, and I am learning how to step into that fear, melting it away. It is the strangest spiritual journey I could have imagined. I hope I learn and learn well from all of this. I hope I can help others find their wings and fly.
Bill continues to live in the Prairie Sunset Nursing Home in Pretty Prairie Kansas.http://www.prairiesunsethome.org/ As you can see, he wears a staff name tag. They have allowed Bill to maintain dignity by allowing him to believe he is part of the staff. With his Masters in geriatrics, it has made his transition way easier than it could have been. When I was faced with finding a unit for Bill, I figured I would have to find a lock down unit. His desire for independence and his lack of comprehending how dangerous his actions are made me an inferior care giver. Oh, it was out of my hands. I've often compared it to living Fifty First Dates in the nightmare version over and over. By the grace of God, the doors opened to a facility who makes him feel useful, needed, and valuable.
Bill has difficulty recognizing Jack these days.His memories fall back to younger days. This is a very difficult situation for Jack. He loves his dad and it is difficult for him to face. He's a tough kid, though, and I am very proud of his resilience.
Bill forgets he divorced me. He gets pretty upset with me at times because he of course wants to drive his car, come home like others when he is off work, and he of course wants to see his dog, Maggie. On really bad days he asks his "boss" (Social Services Director, Michelle) to call his attorney. Bless his heart. I hope I have the kahoonas Bill shows when it comes to survival. He can still talk you into next week, very authoritative too, I might add. He can make you question if he actually does have Alzheimer's with his verbal skills. The things he has forgotten are things like how to drive a car, how to tie a shoe, how to thumb wrestle or play checkers or tic tac toe. Those things aren't important to him, however. He has adjusted well, and proudly shows his new velcro shoes.
Prairie Sunset has given me some real serious peace of mind. I still fight feeling like a failure, not being able to care for Bill until his dying day. The safety of others has to come first, however, Jack and I included. I appreciate your continued prayers. Hugs and kisses, everyone. Lyn

Monday, May 7, 2012

Bill, May 2012

Bill goes weekly to help his bosses Michelle and Holly to get supplies for residents.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Jan's Story

Crisis- Hobson’s Choice – return to my abuser or go to jail.


Time has passed since I started this blog. Today I’m a 52 year-old married woman with a 57 year-old husband who has Early Onset of Alzheimer’s Disease, at an advanced stage. Our son Jack is now a 17 year old young man. Despite my hard work to attempt to keep our family together, the disease has progressed significantly. For Bill, as the Alzheimer's progresses,  the survival skills he acquired from his time in the Marine Corps experience and his 14 years’ experience in Corrections have mushroomed into a warped, vicious,paranoid personality.

He was heavily into control. He was often verbally and emotionally abusive of my son and me throughout our marriage. The Early Onset of Alzheimer’s condition exasperated the dark side of learned behavior associated with being a Marine (there’s no such thing as an Ex-Marine… once a Marine, always a Marine) and the negativity associated with working in a prison environment. This past December (Christmas Day to be exact) Bill In a short four-week period, he quickly escalated to violence and then to threatening my life with knives. I was scared to return to the home with my son, fearing we will be beaten or killed. My experience lead me to a nightmare experience where I learned firsthand how governments have cut back on mental health funding and are forcing families to treat violent mentally ill family members at risk to their own health and safety, sometimes under penalty of criminal sanctions. I’ve found it prevalent in my home state of Kansas and suspect it is prevalent nationwide.

With Christmas approaching, I decided to try to take my husband to see his aging parents, noting the changes and knowing this could be the last time I would be able to travel safely with Bill. I had him convinced, so I thought, that I would be “escorting” us in the car since he was no longer to drive. Two weeks before we were to leave Bill began to refuse to take his medications for his condition.

On Christmas Day Bill woke escalated, announcing he would be driving the car or taking his own car to Cincinnati to see his parents. I have no power of attorney to force him into care, but I was able to get him admitted to the Psychiatric Ward in the county facility. They discharged him three days later, one and a half days after they started him on a heavy psychotropic. The Psych unit contacted me, forcing me to take him home even though I was very verbose in indicating I was unable to care for him. The hospital refused to assist us in finding a place for him to be monitored until he was stable, indicated he was stable on the ward, and was told by the social worker on the ward that they did not want our bill to get too high, as we did not have insurance. It was his experience that most people in that scenario do not follow up with a medical plan because they cannot afford to.

We made too much money to qualify for assistance on his Social Security Disability and my unemployment and part time online teaching. Those are our only sources of income at present. We had no other resources. I was repeatedly told I had to take him home and I would be provided a crisis plan that I would implement The police were to be called and he would be escorted to Horizons for an evaluation.

Bill was released. My mother stayed at our side for three days. On the third day she decided to go to her home to take a break. My friend arrived to cover for her while she was gone, again, because Bill continued to be on edge starting the day we brought him home from the hospital. Within the first hour of my mom’s temporary departure, Bill began to show agitation towards me. This friend, Melany Ketchum, saw Bill begin to try to intimidate me, threaten me and push me, trying to get the car keys (he’s not allowed to drive). She was horrified. She called the Reno County, KS Sheriff’s Office to get help.

The Sheriff arrived, and as per the crisis intervention plan provided by the hospital when I was forced to take Bill home, The Sheriff contacted the county mental health facility and the crisis center refused to see Bill for an assessment per the instructions of the physician that discharged us, indicating Bill was stable on the unit. The Sheriff indicated that Horizon’s Psychiatrist referred to our situation as a family matter and not a medical matter since the issue was related to the Alzheimer's.We we refused even the opportunity for assessment.

Terrified to stay since the Sheriff was called and help was refused, I asked the Sheriff what my recourse was. The Sheriff indicated the only other option was to file a complaint. Bill would be taken in and transferred to a state facility for evaluation. The Sheriff’s officer took my signed statement. In an afterthought he contacted his supervisor. His supervisor advised him not to follow through. The Sheriff refused to file my complaint or escort him to treatment at the county mental health facility. In fact, in following up I learned my statement was never filed with the sheriff’s record office. In addition, I was refused requests for legally required wellness checks or assistance when directed by crisis agencies or when I would receive calls from Bill in various frames of emotion and instability.

During this time, to my knowledge my husband was never declared legally incompetent.  Bill has always refused to allow me to become legal guardian/conservator. I learned two weeks during this crisis period by accident that Bill has been determined to be incompetent during his stay at the county hospital by the providing psychiatrist that released him. (I was informed by the billing department at Horizon's when I was attempting to get records to try to access help for him.)

No one, in all my attempts to get him and myself help discussed domestic violence with me or acknowledged that I was even a victim of domestic violence. I was made to feel like it was my fault that I couldn't control my husband and his violent behavior, if they even believed it existed. The county hospital forced me to take my abuser back, even calling the state on me. They refused to assist me in finding long term care for him, forcing me to take him home. I've been to state, federal and local agencies and not one of them can help us either because our meager income is a hair too high or they are not willing to provide information. I approached the local and national Alzheimer's associations, the Department of Aging, on and on and on.

None of them even told me, as a domestic violence victim, how to get help or even a temporary protective order. Only a family friend who had been through Department of Justice domestic violence training recognized it and helped me get help. One agency, the V.A. Hospital in Wichita, took my situation seriously and advised me to not return home, that he would try to lure me back to do me harm. I've followed their advice.

To add to our crisis, I received a letter that I was to be investigated to be charged with a felony for not taking care of a dependent adult by the District Attorney. The District Attorney’s office became involved when I refused to go home to my abuser. I had been back and forth to the house over those several days on a daily basis.  I had arranged on neighbors to check on him, made sure he had groceries and paid a neighbor who volunteered to make certain he was eating help with his  medicine. It was as if that wasn't exactly what I was all ready doing: trying to get help for Bill. Devastated, I continued to contact agencies, friends in social fields, legal aide, and so on, plus checking on him to be sure he had food, etc. Every phone call I made I stressed my concern for his safety while being left alone.

The next blow was being served with papers for divorce and a restraining order. A well-meaning friend and the friendly neighbor that volunteered to help (who I recently learned pressed the charges of abandonment) took Bill to an attorney to prevent me from helping Bill. No guardianship, abandonment charges, and a restraining order. Go figure.

Long story short, I received help from a fabulous attorney- Shannon Crane if you need a referral- She has walked me through finding a temporary guardian. I was allowed to pick the nursing home for Bill - Prairie Sunset out of Pretty Prairie Kansas, which is within 20 minutes from us. Jack and I are back in our home.  We have lots to deal with in terms of healing but we are ok.


The D.A. continues to threaten to send me, a domestic violence victim, back to my abuser under penalty of a felony charge. Possibility of charges hang over me for the next five years.

Throughout all of this, I have tried to obtain a list of facilities in Kansas that will take violent Alzheimer’s patients, but no one, at the state, county or even mental hospital level, will provide a list to me. Even the state mental hospital won’t take such patients. We make just a hair too much for the V.A. to assist us.

One of the many failures in the system available to individuals with mental deficiencies is the government cutbacks experienced here in Kansas. Kansans are not alone. Are Governors and the state legislature realizing the after affects that these cutbacks have abdicated on providing adequate and basic mental health facilities?

Where is justice when criminal laws and sanctions on terrified family members whose loved ones strike out against them with violence, to imprison us in abuse and endanger our health and lives, all to save the state money? A family friend told me that the state has given me a Hobson’s Choice – return to my abuser or go to jail. No one, he explained, should be forced to do herself injury under penalty of criminal law. What I’ve learned is that I’m not alone. Whether from a stranger at the SRS office telling me that she is going through the same situation or learning of the abysmal, antiquated definition of domestic violence that the Sheriff’s office and D.A.’s office use in this county that everyone in the county seems to acknowledge, women are being forced back into the hands of their abusers. Equally troubling is that violent Alzheimer’s patients are left without adequate care when family members are unable to care for them and can’t afford to put them in expensive nursing homes, or even find lists of such homes that provide such care. I suspect that this problem is nationwide. I would like to help publicize this issue. Please help us help all the other spouses out there suffering in silence, not sure what to do, not sure where to turn and facing abuse at the hands of a loved one who is mentally ill.