...an answer to a prayer, to a fervent wish.

When Jeanne first entered the nursing home, I had an enormous sense of failure. But after the 38 months at Birchwood, I had an immense sense of success. I am grateful for the experience. I didn’t understand this notion of care-giving on Nov. 17, 2003. I was tired. I was depressed after 10 years of care-giving. I allowed the task to get me down. I wasn’t getting adequate respite. Daily breaks are necessary. And I mean daily. I really was at it full-time from the day I retired on June 11, 1998. Before that, I got breaks. At work, so to speak. That was blessed relief. But Jeanne was neglected when I wasn’t around. I should have retired sooner. I suppose it was in retirement that I truly became a 24/7 care-giver. Without any help. Without relief. Although I asked for help. From the relatives. I suggested they organize, and give me one day off each week. But my plea went unheeded. Don’t know if they fully understood the grind of caring for someone, anyone, and especially a loved one for 24 hours a day. It’s an impossible task. It’s oh, so emotionally and physically draining. So discouraging. Especially in dealing with a disease like Alzheimer’s. Yes, I felt like an abysmal failure. Like I was letting Jeanne down. I tried so hard. To keep my composure. But occasionally I’d lose it. I became angry. With Jeanne. With myself. And I cried. So often, I cried. And I lamented. And at my lowest moments, I even thought of suicide. Of mercy killing Jeanne. And myself. But I plugged away. And finally admitted what I thought was defeat. When Jeanne went into Birchwood. That was a very, very low moment. But I resolved to treat Jeanne kindly and gently and with unconditional love. No matter how angry or paranoid Jeanne became, no matter what, I’d stick by her and make life tolerable for her at Birchwood. I guess that was the start of so-called good vibes therapy. And lo and behold, it worked. I got good results. I began to feel relaxed and revitalized and buoyant in spirit. Jeanne rallied. She got better and better and better in meaningful ways. Still cognitively impaired. But what some on the Alzheimer message board call pleasantly demented. Jeanne understood that I loved her. And I understood that Jeanne loved me, knew me, recognized me. We understood each other. We found new ways to communicate. It was a breakthrough…an answer to a prayer, to a fervent wish. --Jim Broede