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I used to be one of those people who believed that life and death were strictly in Gods hands. That whatever happened in-between we just had to endure. Then, I became a caregiver for a father with Alzheimer's disease. If there is anything that will change a person's views of life.vs.death, I have found that it is Alzheimer's.

For anyone who doesn't know, Alzheimer's disease is not just a disease effecting memory, but a instead a disease that destroys the entire mind and body, slowly. You may begin by losing your memory or sense of smell. Eventually you lose your sense of feeling; you can't even tell that you are wet. You lose your sight, hearing, all motor skills including your ability to chew and swallow, but, you'll probably forget those skills long before you lose them and have to be re-trained a number of times by therapists. Alzheimer's is degrading, demeaning; it strips a person of their very individuality and the joy of life.

Near the end, you'll end up, in bed, on tubes and that will be your life until you die. It's most unfortunate that many with Alzheimer's outlive their caregivers because they require so much round-the-clock care.

After watching my sister suffer with Cancer for nearly seven long years and lose her battle, I reached the conclusion that she had it easier than my father. At least she had her cognitive and motor skills up until the last few months of her life. Dad couldn't even enjoy the last few Christmases with his great-grandchildren; he couldn't recall who they were or where he was. He didn't even realize that it was Christmas.

One of my last memories of Dad was walking down the hallway of the nursing home that we were finally forced to put him into and hearing his screams of agonizing pain. He had wandered into another patients room and ended up with a broken hip. He didn't even have the cognitivity to work with a therapist at that point. I remember begging the night nurse to give him something for the pain, but she insisted that with the Alzheimer and pain medications that he was already taking, he could not take anything else. For a man who had been active and outdoors most of his life, Dad was suffering through a real Hell. A Hell that would never let him escape. He was trapped in a living nightmare and would never get out, as long as he was alive.

For many people with fatal diseases like Alzheimer's, this Hell is a seemingly unending reality. It only ends with death. Knowing my Father, I believe he would have preferred to have gone

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