Necessary Lies

Early on in Mom’s Alzheimers disease, she hated when I would leave. It caused her to be confused when a “piece” of the puzzle was removed. She would drill me with questions like Why? Where? How long? Can I come? Did I do something wrong? and so many more. It broke my heart to see her upset, mad, depressed and an array of other emotions.

Even though I was her primary caregiver, I still had my hands full with young children at home and I was a wife and mother to four. Just as I did with other learning curves Alzheimer’s threw in my path, such as how does one answer the same question over and over and OVER again, without going crazy. I found a solution that worked for me. I made a game out of it. I didn’t allow myself to respond to her with the same answer even though her question or comment was the same every time. I think that kept my sanity. Just as I came up with a coping skill for that situation, I came up with a plan for my exit strategy. I decided to begin to not tell her what I was really doing (picking up my kids at school, working, going on a trip, church work, etc.) because no matter what I would say, it evoked confusion and negative emotions. She wanted me with her 24/7.

If you find yourself in this situation, perhaps you could try a few of my routine answers. They seemed to satisfy Mom’s curiosity and she didn’t appear to become as emotional as she had previously.

I thought of things to say that I thought Mom would approve of, things that sounded like I was taking care of matters. Mom was a very disciplined, orderly person so I was trying to connect with that part of her and it seemed to work well. Some of my frequently used responses as to why I was leaving are below:

1. I’m going to get us some water.
2. I’m going to put the kids to bed.
3. I’m running to the car.
4. I’m going to run to the store and get you some snacks.
5. Would you like me to get you a cup of coffee?
6. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment and well, you see where I am going with this.

I know I shouldn’t lie, especially to my mother, but don’t judge until you’ve walked in my shoes or any caregivers shoes for that matter, and seen sadness and confusion overcome your loved one day in and day out. I would do anything to ease her burden and I did.

With a smile and a happy heart,

Elle