by Denise Bee

Created on: November 02, 2010   Last Updated: November 04, 2010

Alzheimer's ...the great abductor. It kidnaps our loved ones and turns them into strangers right before our eyes. My husband was 59 when he was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer's Disease (EOAD). He's now 64. His mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's when she was in her early 80's and died about 7 years later.

 One of the hardest things we've ever done was telling our four children that their father has EOAD. The fear of not knowing whether they might have it is almost too much for them to bear at times. Often when they forget something, the fear that they may be exhibiting symptoms of the disease grips them again. They've discussed having genetic testing done, but they aren't sure they want to know. What would they do differently? Would knowing they have it change their lives in ways we cannot imagine? I think so.

 People think that Alzheimer's is a loss of memory. The truth is...it's symptoms are far-reaching and are subtle in the beginning becoming more defined as the disease progresses. My husband's personality started changing almost 15 years before he was diagnosed. He began to hoard his money, opening personal checking and savings accounts. He became withdrawn, spending weekends and vacations in the basement working on the income taxes, getting extensions that weren't needed. He began having difficulties at work... performing the same duties he'd done for years. Then he got lost driving home from work one day. When he told me this I wondered how many times this had happened that he hadn't told me about.

After 37 years of marriage, sometimes I feel like I am married to a monster called Alzheimer's. It's my constant companion. It's taken over my husband's body. It looks at me through his eyes with emptiness, confusion and hurt and talks to me about things I know nothing of. It wanders in and out of reality with no regard to what is at hand. It spreads horrible rumors and bad feelings about the people who love him through dreams and nightmares that grip him in the night and release him in the morning in a state of confusion and anxiousness. It robs him of the excitement that comes with the anticipation of something good to come and the exhilaration of a fun time he's just had.

The saving grace for me is the fact that my husband is compliant, responds well to me and is able to dress himself and perform his personal hygiene tasks.

Having cared for my ailing mother-in-law during her last stages of Alzheimer's, I learned that by the time the person slips into the fog where they don't know who you are any longer, it's too late to say goodbye. I am thankful that we are still able to live in the here and now...even though we are living a long goodbye.

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