The Cruelest Disease

We had the meeting last week where J was told she couldn’t return to the Alzheimer’s Association program she has been attending for the last four years or so. We have been through four or five program directors, and this last one was definitely the best. He actually listened to the participants and made programming decisions based on the feedback.  That was a huge improvement from when the program started and the Alzheimer’s Association used the attendees to stuff envelopes for mailings. 

The program director delivered the news as compassionately as possible. I just wish he hadn’t felt the need to tell us repeatedly how hard it was for him. (I later did suggest that perhaps he should have taken that up with his colleagues, friends or family — or his therapist — instead of us.)

It does infuriate me that the Alzheimer’s Association has no program for people in the more advanced stages of the disease. J still could benefit from getting together with others who are like her. Who better than the Alzheimer’s Association to provide such services?  But it doesn’t. And perhaps  the day care center we are looking at next week will be the answer. 

In the meantime, the real difficulty is that J is aware of her decline and it upsets her. Maybe it will be better when she gets past this stage and no longer knows what she has lost and is losing.