Catalyzt
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
It is personal. @rich c , so sorry for your loss, man. Both my folks died with extreme dementia-- my mom in her early '80s from Parkinson's, with the Lewy Body type of dementia, and my Dad at 92, with more the vascular type w/ Alzheimer's overtones. For 10 years years, so much of my life was trying to manage their care-- flying back to the east coast 6, 7, sometimes eight times a year. (They were divorced, had nothing to do with each other since the early '70s.) Still hurts thinking about it.
I felt like the world had really dealt our family a terrible hand. I won't pretend I've got it figured out. @Davey Do -- I do sort of get what Davey's saying, though. I'll tell you one thing-- I don't see a lot of eBikers on the canyon roads here (and certainly none who are my age) and part of the reason for that is, I think, because most people consider it a lot more dangerous to ride here than I do. I probably have a higher tolerance for risk than a lot of folks. .Some of it is also that I grew up riding bikes in NYC in the '70s, so I have really good skills for riding around cars, but that doesn't make me invulnerable.
With my folks, part of what got me through it was only worrying about the things I needed to worry about. Particularly with my Dad. Sometimes, you just had to think, "Just get him into the hospital and then into rehab. That will cover it for the next six weeks. I don't know what level of care he'll need after that, so hell-- my wife and I should go to Hawaii, like, right now, while he's safe, and worry about it when we get back." And that's what he wanted me to do-- to live my life. He didn't want to be a burden to me.
I told him about the trip to Hawaii! He probably forgot 90 seconds after I told him, but I do believe it sank in somewhere: Your dementia isn't killing your kid. It's not breaking his spirit. It tried, but it failed. And I think knowing that made his last 20 months on the planet much more peaceful.
The best conversation we had during his last year, the one I'll never forget was during a rare lucid moment: He says to me, "Do we have enough money to pay for all this?" (Group home.)
Me: "We do. We have a great social worker, got us a good deal. Just so you know, it costs me between $XXX to $XXXX a month. We can sustain that for at least three or four years before dipping into retirement savings, and I may be making more money by then."
Dad: "You're much better at managing money than I ever was."
Me: "Damn right. That's because I learned from your mistakes. Every crap stock you ever bought, bad contract you signed, you told me exactly how it went down and what you should have done differently. And if you think that went in one ear and out the other? Think again."
He slapped the table and laughed. That last year wasn't his best, but it was far from his worst. Not even in the top 10.
My friends and family, and my clients wouldn't want me to die from something stupid and avoidable. But they wouldn't want me to make myself sick with worry, either, which is something I'm totally capable of doing.
I felt like the world had really dealt our family a terrible hand. I won't pretend I've got it figured out. @Davey Do -- I do sort of get what Davey's saying, though. I'll tell you one thing-- I don't see a lot of eBikers on the canyon roads here (and certainly none who are my age) and part of the reason for that is, I think, because most people consider it a lot more dangerous to ride here than I do. I probably have a higher tolerance for risk than a lot of folks. .Some of it is also that I grew up riding bikes in NYC in the '70s, so I have really good skills for riding around cars, but that doesn't make me invulnerable.
With my folks, part of what got me through it was only worrying about the things I needed to worry about. Particularly with my Dad. Sometimes, you just had to think, "Just get him into the hospital and then into rehab. That will cover it for the next six weeks. I don't know what level of care he'll need after that, so hell-- my wife and I should go to Hawaii, like, right now, while he's safe, and worry about it when we get back." And that's what he wanted me to do-- to live my life. He didn't want to be a burden to me.
I told him about the trip to Hawaii! He probably forgot 90 seconds after I told him, but I do believe it sank in somewhere: Your dementia isn't killing your kid. It's not breaking his spirit. It tried, but it failed. And I think knowing that made his last 20 months on the planet much more peaceful.
The best conversation we had during his last year, the one I'll never forget was during a rare lucid moment: He says to me, "Do we have enough money to pay for all this?" (Group home.)
Me: "We do. We have a great social worker, got us a good deal. Just so you know, it costs me between $XXX to $XXXX a month. We can sustain that for at least three or four years before dipping into retirement savings, and I may be making more money by then."
Dad: "You're much better at managing money than I ever was."
Me: "Damn right. That's because I learned from your mistakes. Every crap stock you ever bought, bad contract you signed, you told me exactly how it went down and what you should have done differently. And if you think that went in one ear and out the other? Think again."
He slapped the table and laughed. That last year wasn't his best, but it was far from his worst. Not even in the top 10.
My friends and family, and my clients wouldn't want me to die from something stupid and avoidable. But they wouldn't want me to make myself sick with worry, either, which is something I'm totally capable of doing.