I opened dad’s insurance statement and there it was in black and white for me to see:
- 331.0 Alzheimer’s Disease
- 290.20 Senile dementia with delusional features
- 297.9 Paranoid delusions
If ever I was in denial, that’s now a thing of the past. Deep down, my gut already knew all of that, but seeing it from someone else’s perspective is an eye-opener. Reality ran to greet me like a Mack truck that lost its brakes going down a steep hill and hit me head on. Well, that’s the way it feels. As I stared at this insurance statement, my occasional weepiness was replaced by a very profound sadness; a sorrow that mere words cannot do justice, and a falling of my heart that sent strange sensations through my body. In short, I had a brief moment of feeling crazed, like “what am I supposed to do with this kind of information?”
It is one of my greatest personal challenges trying to grasp what seems illogical, and this disease is definitely illogical. Nothing about it makes sense. Sometimes it feels like I have just been jettisoned into someone else’s life. You can’t purge it, because wherever you go, it will follow. It is our shadow for the time being.
Anyone have any suggestions for mentally and emotionally preparing for what lies ahead?
© 2012 Julie Hall
Julie Hall
In The Trenches 