by Linda Batey

Created on: September 06, 2008   Last Updated: January 15, 2010

My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's many years ago, and thankfully, Aricept, has kept it in the early stages for a lot longer than what is considered normal.

The signs were easy to detect; my grandmother had been a victim and mom, pre-Alzheimer, had been her caretaker until she simply couldn't keep her safe. Mom had horrible feelings of guilt when the day came that she had no choice but to put "Houdini" in a nursing home, but she knew that it was the only choice. By then, it was obvious that Grammy no longer recognized her home or her family, which made the decision a bit easier to swallow.

I am mom's only daughter and I live five miles away from her. She still lives in the family home and is very content there, with her cat, her dog and her yard work, but I am her transportation. God worked a miracle a few years ago when I discovered that she wasn't really safe to be on the road driving; he made her car die and she couldn't afford another. Thanks again for that one, Lord. The little car she drove was basically a sardine can on wheels and I heard that she was backing out in front of other cars, not paying attention to such important things as red lights, and drove with her pedal to the metal.

My brothers all live at least two hours away, and although they have gotten much better about calling her on a regular basis, her care and comfort is left to me. They are very good about letting me know that they appreciate what I do for mom, and I know that I can call them and vent anytime I need to, or if she needs something, I can count on them. Mom also has a brother close by who stops and visits every couple of weeks, and a sister who is very good about taking mom places and calling her.

This week has been hell for me. Mom's Alzheimer's is definitely progressed in the past year, and it always gets worse in the late fall and winter when mom can't get outdoors and get exercise and sunshine. It's September and I am so dreading the next six or seven months, if this past week is any indication, I am in deep doo-doo. Rubber room, here I come!

When she is home, she is great. She rarely repeats herself, is funny and smart and kicks my butt regularly playing Yahtzee. But take her outside of her comfort zone, home, and she is so confused. She gets this "deer in the headlights" look that tells me the synapses are not synapse' for her and I feel bad for taking her out of her zone. She insists that she loves to go out "galavantin'" but it takes a toll on her, and on me.

Driving

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