tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39321397612061377792024-02-20T00:43:45.157-08:00Diagnosis: Alzheimer'sMy name is Rhonda Brantley and this blog reflects daily living with an Early/Young Onset Alzheimer's Dementia patient; the good, the bad and the ugly. My husband, Billy Ray Brantley, was diagnosed in October 2007 and left us April 9, 2012. I was his primary caretaker and it was the biggest and most important job of my life. He will remain forever in our hearts.rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-72610083449610537422013-08-19T13:42:00.001-07:002014-02-16T12:54:34.265-08:00As Published in PRACTICAL ALZHEIMER'S<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://practicalalzheimers.com/the-most-important-job-of-my-life/" target="_blank">You can find the original article here....</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Written by <a href="http://practicalalzheimers.com/the-most-important-job-of-my-life/">Rhonda Brantley</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You’ve heard about <b>Alzheimer’s and dementia</b> for
years, but never suspected it would creep into your own home. Much like
cancer, a house fire or losing your life savings, we just don’t
anticipate bad things happening to us. Those things happen to other
people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The truth is, Alzheimer’s happens and young-onset Alzheimer’s is becoming a more common diagnosis. It was late 2007 when <b>my husband was diagnosed at the age of 61</b>. He could have been diagnosed at 59. Actually, he should have been diagnosed when he was 56.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When you have to hire someone to look after your husband while he continues to run the family business, you know. You’ve raised <b>seven children</b> together and the baby is just nine years old. You have a <b>multi-million dollar real estate business</b>,
with land holdings and construction in progress. To off-handedly
suggest your suspicions to the man in charge would not be safe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But he knew. <b>And he hid it well</b>. For years he
blamed, masked, argued and fought while managing a
perfectly-orchestrated charade of cover-ups. Unable to manage the credit
card reader to buy gas or to read and understand contracts. <b>Lost keys, lost funds, lost friends</b>.
But when he lost his way while picking the baby up from school one
breezy fall day, the gig was up. I could no longer cash the checks he
was writing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I recall now a series of events that led up to what I believe was an accurate diagnosis of <b>mixed dementia</b>. Take his multiple concussions, numerous surgeries under general anesthesia and a long history of <b>hypertension</b>. Add a near death accident resulting in <b>Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder</b>,
a stressful career trembling under the weight of a crumbling economy
and, BAM, the perfect storm. The storm that rocked the foundation of our
family, our business, our lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>We do lean on Alzheimer’s for treatment and services and
most dementias at that time were being treated the same. First Aricept,
then add the Namenda. File for your Social Security Disability, get your
affairs in order, review your will, check your deeds, go home and wait
it out. That’s all you get. Because with Alzheimer’s, that’s all they’ve
got.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After trying for years to get a diagnosis, <b>the formality of hearing it came as a relief</b>. Confirmation that someone else knew meant that I could either hide it, run from it or attack it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Within just a few short days the business was gone, the home and assets were for sale and <b>we had made the front page of our local newspaper</b>.
There was little time to think of what to do next, with reporters
calling for interviews, extended family coming out of the woodwork and
employees scrambling for cover. Because he ‘seemed’ okay to those who
were not around him every day, his condition created its own set of
issues. Having a reason to pack up the circus gave me a few moments of
peace until I learned he was simultaneously continuing to reassure
everyone all was well. That he was fine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Therein lies the crime when diagnosed so young, with a wife in her
early 40s and young children at home to influence and care for.
Suddenly, Dad becomes the kid. Early on, we noticed <b>his reasoning skills shattered and a once-shrewd negotiator became a pushover</b>.
An outdoorsman who couldn’t be trusted with his own gun, a fisherman
who couldn’t navigate his boat in familiar waters, a man stripped of his
credit cards and cash to keep him from giving it all away as he could
no longer make change.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There were no outreach programs for teens and little to no support groups for young spouses, so I honed my focus. <b>Searching for clinical trials, new therapies and answers</b>,
I continued to dole out our life savings for medications not covered by
insurance and attorneys to keep the wolves at bay. Social Security
Disability Income was approved in under 60 days, but we were in the GAP
and earning just $1.74 per month too much to knock us out of any other
assistance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">From the day of my husband’s diagnosis, they gave him three years at home. <b>I read every book and magazine available on the subject</b>.
My goal from the onset was to care for him at home with the respect,
love and compassion that he had always showered upon us: an excellent
husband and father, abundant provider, loving and kind. I created a game
plan and became the quarterback. Our children blocked and ran the
plays. Adamant we would make those the best three years of our lives, we
were blessed with nearly five.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With the passing of each month, <b>I convinced myself it could not get any worse</b>.
However, each and every week it did. To see the love of your life fall
into a daily routine of such insignificance is heart-wrenching, while
together we witnessed a once robust and physical powerhouse lose all
desire to live. On his darkest days, he would apologize to me for having
to assist with his bathing, shaving and dressing. <b>He was humble and grateful, but sad</b>. How must it feel to know you are losing your mind?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Without a good map, I chartered our course with a group of excellent
doctors, road trips when we could afford the gas and good food. He came
to expect it and I continued to demand it as this essentially became a
new way of life for all of us. <b>Our children are better men and women today having navigated through it</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Eventually turning to a journal and then to a <a href="http://www.rhondabrantley.com/" target="_blank"><b>blog</b></a>, I expelled my rawest emotions with both candor and fear. Here and there, peppering the insanity of our days with <b>humor and angst</b>
allowed me to cry through it for another dose. It was my plight and my
duty and so convinced that it would go on forever and ever, I nearly
missed the ending.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>My precious husband passed away on Easter Sunday 2012</b>,
on the heels of a wonderful day at home. A traditional home-cooked
feast, he was giddy all day having mama in the kitchen and our now
college-bound baby giving him more attention than ever. Except for a
bout of indigestion, there was no pain for him when the widow-maker came
to visit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With an aging population, the tightening of research funds, limited
nursing-home beds for dementia patients and the ongoing threat to any
assistance for the elderly and sick, <b>we find ourselves at a real crossroads</b>.
Not everyone who succumbs to Alzheimer’s will have the support and care
my husband received — and most will not know how to find it. <b>Caring for someone with dementia is not a walk in the park</b>. But with knowledge, the right mindset, lots of love, and a full portion of grace, it can happen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>It was the most important job of my life.</b></span></div>
rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-81338176708499575682013-08-19T13:19:00.000-07:002013-08-19T13:19:04.551-07:00Diagnosis: Alzheimer's - Healthline's Top 25 Blogs of 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZsTU8pC0_8/UhJ8hi4IlnI/AAAAAAAAEHY/-CPUNEkIbp0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-08-19+at+3.13.10+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="31" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZsTU8pC0_8/UhJ8hi4IlnI/AAAAAAAAEHY/-CPUNEkIbp0/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-08-19+at+3.13.10+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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When
a spouse is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s, most people want to turn
and run. Not Rhonda Brantley. This brave woman was caregiver to her husband for
the final five years of his life. Brantley turned her experience into <em><a href="http://www.rhondabrantley.com/" target="_blank">Diagnosis:
Alzheimer’s</a></em> to help spouses and
caregivers going through the same heart-wrenching challenge.</div>
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Part documentary of Billy Ray’s final
years and part informational resource, <em>Diagnosis:
Alzheimer’s</em> is the story of lives fractured by Alzheimer’s, with the highs
and lows wrapped into one beautiful and bittersweet tale from start to
finish. </div>
rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-63686057691113802842013-02-03T10:41:00.001-08:002013-02-03T13:34:52.956-08:00I Wish I Could Have Said Goodbye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rqIPYT9rSE4/UQwgzJPqxVI/AAAAAAAADgI/_wa8IHr1CGc/s1600/GoodBye.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rqIPYT9rSE4/UQwgzJPqxVI/AAAAAAAADgI/_wa8IHr1CGc/s400/GoodBye.png" width="280" /></a></div>
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I started composing a few thoughts several days before what would have been Bill's 67th birthday on Monday, February 4th. It's as if I need to write 'into' it for several days to post on what would have been a day of visits, cards and his favorite Edgar's Strawberry Cake.</div>
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Just another first, I am reminded of a Words of Encouragement card I just received from my good friend, Valerie Springer. It goes something like this...</div>
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"Believe in yourself, you can do it. You can and you will get through this. Search within yourself and you will find strength and hope for tomorrow. I am your friend, I care and I am here for you whenever you need me."</div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>Then she pens, "A year of first(s). The best is always, the first or new. Praying you will spread your wings and fly this year. God wants our first offerings, first thanksgivings, first hours of the day for prayer and first new experiences to be give to him. This is a first for you in this new season."</i></span></div>
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I keep bumping into people who have lost a spouse or partner at around my age. Where relationships were long, so many experiences were shared, children and grandchildren are a part of your lives. Travel, hardships, good times and bad. Plans, dreams and goals. If you had been together this long you were bound to be best friends. </div>
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True, I had life experiences before Bill. But what of our children who knew him from their first breath? And, what can I share with them about his last breath? And, isn't it odd, that even though you know your loved one is out of pain, there still remains a level of guilt within us?</div>
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I immediately experienced 'survivor guilt'. That I had somehow managed to survive this great trauma and he had not. That I would live to see our children and their children. That I would travel and taste and experience.</div>
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Then within a few months, I began to experience another wave of guilt. </div>
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<li>Did I tell him I loved him often enough?</li>
<li>Did I do everything within my power to make sure he was comfortable and well taken care of? </li>
<li>Did I comfort?</li>
<li>Did I sometimes lack patience?</li>
<li>Did I sometimes want to just run away?</li>
<li>Did I think of the burden on myself too much?</li>
<li>Did I put myself in his shoes?</li>
<li>Did I fight hard enough, demand the respect for him he deserved?</li>
<li>Did I seek out the best medical care possible?</li>
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Having to justify and answer the above questions have eased the pain. The asking and then pulling from my memory days, times, moments and pictures that qualify and quantify the answers. Where I found myself lacking in the process, I just dig a little deeper. I may not have done it all exactly how it should have been done, but I believe now that I did it as he wanted.</div>
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Family and friends:</div>
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For Michelle and I, it was a life changing experience. I saw Wade rise up to do the unimaginable to protect his baby sister. For my neighbors who witnessed something I hope they never have to again as we fought in earnest for another breath, Then, for racing me up the interstate to get to Little Miss. For Amy and Wade who never left my side. For my friends who were here within hours and left nothing for me to think of or do. For my besties who watched over me while I slept. For my neighbors who continued to feed and minister to us. For Bill Vogel who gathered their bunch up and came running. For Unk and Kay who put it in the road. For Mike who left it all and rescued his mother like he always does. And, for Little Miss and Susie who have suffered the most. They continue to carry a heavy burden and unnecessary guilt.</div>
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<i>"Because you were not here every minute. Because you were not here at that last breath. Because you think there was something else you could have done. Because, like me - you wish you could have said goodbye. Trust me when I say that Dad knew he was loved. That his family brought joy to his heart. That he knew that our actions and involvement, sacrifices and time were for him."</i></div>
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Feeling more like myself each day, I have to wonder, "Who is me?"<br />
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As if to rekindle, it requires such an emotional journey to delve that deep, to try and get to a place where you were - when how you got here defines you. Then, to realize in just a fleeting moment that who you were is no longer relevant. Myself is who you've become through the process.</div>
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It also makes me wonder about the people who have to go through the end of their life without love and compassion and it delivers a certain sadness, as our mortality is real. You do not take your boats and 4-wheelers. You do not take your life savings or favorite watch. You do not take your loved ones with you. You do not witness the hundreds who stood in line to comfort your family in your name. But to know that at the end of your life you made such an impact on others that you were surrounded by love is really real.<br />
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Just yesterday when cleaning up around our community pond with the neighbors, I imagined him there. Standing at the dam with a rake in his hand, telling us all how it should be done. Rallying the troops, directing traffic, cheering everybody on, telling jokes, laughing out loud with his head thrown back. Then, it occurred to me last night that I had inadvertently taken on that role. In my mind, it was me turning cartwheels down the cart path.</div>
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Caregivers:</div>
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Cousin Mark Brown whispered in my ear just after Bill's funeral, "You need to understand that you are going to feel two emotions at once that most in their lifetime will never have the opportunity to feel. Grief and Relief."<br />
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One may think (as I initially did) that the RELIEF he spoke to was intended for me. That I would feel relieved of the burden and responsibility. Not so. Mark Brown knew better. It did take me some time to completely grasp it, but what I know now is that Bill's cousin knew me well enough to know that I would eventually feel my husband's relief.<br />
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The encouragement from around the world to continue writing creates a battle within me. I remain in awe of the many sufferers and caregivers in search of answers or just a comrade when feeling sadness, guilt, exhaustion and loneliness. </div>
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Then, such a turn of prose. Several years ago the angst in telling a daily story of what really goes on while living with Alzheimer's, I respectfully delivered a tale with comedic undertones. My self-deprecating style and mantra of laughing at oneself presented a platform that we were completely unaware of. Yes, it is true the primary caregivers carry the load, however my 'brand of caregiving' never saw it that way. It has to be within you. Is it duty you feel or is it love? The long-suffering duty within me will continue to write with raw honesty but I now find the laughter hard to muster. Just as I referred so fondly and characteristically to him as Willie Bill and WB during the war, the day he left me he was Bill.<br />
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You can reach back in the articles to find it, but pay close attention to the turn in focus. Dutifully, I hope this in some way can assist others while providing care, fearing loss or feeling lonely. However, the paradigm shift created a soul searching, gut wrenching, mind boggling race to carry on. Now, it is selfishly less a story for comforting others than a document of emotions throughout this time in our lives. Something that our children can hold on to. If one can read through the tea leaves to find any measure of relief, then perhaps we have accomplished something else as well.<br />
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I will never forget Wade saying to me, "I will always love you for taking such good care of Dad."<br />
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It was a precious moment. Because it was always love. Not duty. But, to have no guilt at all would be unrealistic for our bunch. We have
strong opinions, high expectations and above all we think and love
deeply. So, go away guilt. Go away from me. Go away from our children.<br />
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Perhaps then at the end of the day it matters not the many times we told
him, no matter the last words we spoke, we still wish we could have said goodbye.<br />
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Planning for a bittersweet day on Monday by staying busy and productive. I shall recognize his 67th birthday (another first) with memories of all the celebrations we had enjoyed so much together while acknowledging that we (as a family) did everything we knew to do. And that regardless his state of mind, I know without a doubt he knew it.<br />
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Happy Birthday, Honey. Perhaps gone from our lives physically, you will
always be with us as we carry you in our hearts wherever we go, whatever
we do, whomever we become.</div>
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<i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffered from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia.</i>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-7556561861650338012013-01-13T11:10:00.000-08:002013-01-13T15:36:14.420-08:00A Shitty Little Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was a DISASTER. I think any and everything I tried to do to overcome the dreaded first Christmas without WB resulted in a train wreck. With time to reflect<span style="font-size: small;"> and a several thousand mile roadtrip</span>, it was anxiety <span style="font-size: small;">and fear </span>of the unknown driving my depression therefore perhaps exacerbating it for others. Even the most precious and well-intentioned messages from friends and family had me ramped up for the big explosion and I fully intended to thwart it. Mistake.</div>
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While trying so hard to create a new set of memories, I stepped right of into a pile of manure.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Reminded me just now of <span style="font-size: small;">the Renee Zellweger character in <span style="font-size: small;">the <span style="font-size: small;">movie Cold Mount<span style="font-size: small;">ain. "Ruby T<span style="font-size: small;">ewes, you are a C-A-T-A-S-T-R-O-P-H-<span style="font-size: small;">E<span style="font-size: small;">!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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Watching OPRAH on OWN this morning and her interview with Eckhart Tolle was eye opening. <a href="http://Eckhart Tolle is a German-born Canadian resident, best known as the author of the The Power of Now and A New Earth, which were written in English. In 2011, he was listed by the Watkins Review as the most spiritually influential person in the world.">Eckhart Tolle is a German-born Canadian resident, best known as the author of the The Power of Now and A New Earth, which were written in English. In 2011, he was listed by the Watkins Review as the most spiritually influential person in the world.<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></a></div>
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Then, a scan of Eckhart's website confirmed for me that I should reading his books. Front and center, he cites, "<span style="font-size: small;">The realm of consciousness is much vaster than thought can grasp.
When you no longer believe everything you think, you step out of thought and see clearly that the thinker is not who you are."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">I <span style="font-size: small;">rattled Kate out of bed earlier to share<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;">Sleepy and now </span>sure she was not so amused with my ah-ha moment, I am <span style="font-size: small;">now thoroughly convinced she didn't process it <span style="font-size: small;">quite the same.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">That said, <span style="font-size: small;">I moved on to a discussion about dinner. Meatloa<span style="font-size: small;">f<span style="font-size: small;">, it is.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Living in the past is weighing me down. Anxious about the future is weighing me down. I've got to find a way to get in to the HERE and NOW. That was Eckhart's advise and it's definitly worth a shot. Obvious that I cannot change how I got here or life events before today, there is simply nothing that can be done to change them. That memories are just that. Memories. Just another reminder of what I've said many times before, my memories are personally mine as everyone else has their own. <a href="http://www.rhondabrantley.com/2012/06/its-my-road-and-mine-alone.html">My feelings are mine, and mine alone.</a></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Really need to start practicing what I preach. <span style="font-size: small;">Then, <span style="font-size: small;">v</span>isiting a Blog that I f<span style="font-size: small;">o<span style="font-size: small;">llow, <a href="http://www.christianworkingwoman.org/be_still_and_know_i_am_god">The Christian Working W</a><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.christianworkingwoman.org/be_still_and_know_i_am_god">oman</a>,<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I found this post </span><i> <span style="font-size: small;">"</span></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10). </i></span>The fear in me has been so <span style="font-size: small;">present for so long<span style="font-size: small;"> and this has <span style="font-size: small;">really re<span style="font-size: small;">sulted in </span></span><span style="font-size: small;">a <span style="font-size: small;">real conflict for </span>my children<span style="font-size: small;"> and I.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I <span style="font-size: small;">do not fear any man or woman. <span style="font-size: small;">I <span style="font-size: small;">am not fearful of any legal <span style="font-size: small;">issue, court battle, or death. I <span style="font-size: small;">have never been afraid of anything that I can remember except a serpant of any kind.</span></span></span></span></span> </span>However, w</span>orrying <span style="font-size: small;">about what<span style="font-size: small;"> comes next in our lives has <span style="font-size: small;">substantially </span>paral<span style="font-size: small;">ized me and I <span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">peak to this often. Give me anything and <span style="font-size: small;">tradtion is, I<span style="font-size: small;"> can typically handle it. <span style="font-size: small;">Therefore<span style="font-size: small;">, this fear is in my mind. It's not ph<span style="font-size: small;">ysical, <span style="font-size: small;">it's embedded in my soul<span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">For months and <span style="font-size: small;">i</span>n an attempt to keep the FAITH and a <span style="font-size: small;">constant search for any system, methodology or<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>scrip<span style="font-size: small;">ture <span style="font-size: small;">-</span> it just came around<span style="font-size: small;"> this morning at first cup and the <span style="font-size: small;">landing on th<span style="font-size: small;">e right TV station</span></span>. I cannot <span style="font-size: small;">even accept my <span style="font-size: small;">'religious beliefs' <span style="font-size: small;">without tapping into my own spiritual self.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">How long have I <span style="font-size: small;">co-mingled reli<span style="font-size: small;">gion and spirituality?<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> For as long as I can remember we've heard people say, "God spoke to me." And, for as long as I can remember, I've <span style="font-size: small;">yea<span style="font-size: small;">r<span style="font-size: small;">ned for <span style="font-size: small;">that. Oh <span style="font-size: small;">h</span>ow I've pondered<span style="font-size: small;">, can they hear God speaking to them and I cannot? <span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Coveting their experiences<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">present</span> <span style="font-size: small;">so many </span></span>questions for me; What does God's voice sound like? Is it gentle? It is strong? <span style="font-size: small;">Does God have an accent?<span style="font-size: small;"> Will he speak to me in a way <span style="font-size: small;">that I may understand? <span style="font-size: small;">Am I too shut off with <span style="font-size: small;">anger <span style="font-size: small;">or guilt that he may not present him<span style="font-size: small;">self<span style="font-size: small;"> at all? Is it <span style="font-size: small;">b</span>ecause I like w<span style="font-size: small;">ine and<span style="font-size: small;"> I say 'SHIT' regularily? What is it? Why can I not hear God speak?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">T<span style="font-size: small;">h<span style="font-size: small;">is <span style="font-size: small;">notion may change <span style="font-size: small;">within a <span style="font-size: small;">short while</span>, but <span style="font-size: small;">i</span></span></span></span></span></span>s<span style="font-size: small;"> the goal to <span style="font-size: small;">get</span></span> to<span style="font-size: small;"> that </span>place within your<span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">elf, a qu<span style="font-size: small;">iet and still place where you can medi<span style="font-size: small;">ate on God's word? Is that how God speaks to <span style="font-size: small;">me/us</span>?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fortunately<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">(or unfortunately) these issues are documented<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> in <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">many </span>of my postings. Taking the time to <span style="font-size: small;">look</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> back on my tho<span style="font-size: small;">ughts and feel<span style="font-size: small;">ings of the past 9 months<span style="font-size: small;">,</span> one can easily <span style="font-size: small;">see a vast <span style="font-size: small;">array <span style="font-size: small;">of emotions and stages of <span style="font-size: small;">grief. From no grieving to angry grieving, to trying to quash the grief and <span style="font-size: small;">then trying to undermine grief by completely i<span style="font-size: small;">gnoring and rerouting our <span style="font-size: small;">traditional Christmas<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A</span>t th<span style="font-size: small;">is stage in the <span style="font-size: small;">process, </span>one <span style="font-size: small;">may <span style="font-size: small;">typically suggest a doctor or stronger medication. <span style="font-size: small;">My family, friends and<span style="font-size: small;"> any<span style="font-size: small;">one following <span style="font-size: small;">this has got to be thinking, "This <span style="font-size: small;">woman is CRAZY"<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">!!!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">True that<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;">Still crazy with <span style="font-size: small;">grief<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;">C</span></span>razy with love for <span style="font-size: small;">our children, grandchildren</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>and extended family. Crazy still with a sense of responsibility<span style="font-size: small;"> for those less fortunate<span style="font-size: small;"> or needing assistance. <span style="font-size: small;">Crazy hungry for an end <span style="font-size: small;">to <span style="font-size: small;">the </span>pain <span style="font-size: small;">yet crazy enough to keep i<span style="font-size: small;">t</span> close. <span style="font-size: small;">It's <span style="font-size: small;">the memory. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">T<span style="font-size: small;">hinking that <span style="font-size: small;">n</span></span></span>ext year we <span style="font-size: small;">will remember <span style="font-size: small;">our S<span style="font-size: small;">HITTY LITTLE CHRISTMAS<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">, </span><span style="font-size: small;">I will <span style="font-size: small;">also </span>remem<span style="font-size: small;">ber that the friends and family who <span style="font-size: small;">were <span style="font-size: small;">reaching out to me knew that no matter how <span style="font-size: small;">hard I tried to disguise it, disaster was im<span style="font-size: small;">inent. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;">Just as we will <span style="font-size: small;">remember that our sabatical to Texas during the h<span style="font-size: small;">olid<span style="font-size: small;">a</span>y was the first in over 20 years absent the big guy taking up all the room in the car. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Be still. </span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I will also remember that my g<span style="font-size: small;">irls and I had a delightful Christmas Eve<span style="font-size: small;"> sharing <span style="font-size: small;">gifts of need<span style="font-size: small;"> and then a restful Ch<span style="font-size: small;">ristmas Day with great food<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">, a fire in the firepl<span style="font-size: small;">ace and endless movies</span></span>.<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">As </span>for today<span style="font-size: small;">,</span> I'm scribbling and scra<span style="font-size: small;">tching in an attempt t</span>o keep this in </span>the <span style="font-size: small;">here and now<span style="font-size: small;"> because <span style="font-size: small;">i</span></span>t's all <span style="font-size: small;">so<span style="font-size: small;"> heavy. <span style="font-size: small;">It's just another </span></span></span></span>memory.<span style="font-size: small;"> Be still<span style="font-size: small;">, Rhonda. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Keep reading. Keep studying. </span>Keep <span style="font-size: small;">praying. Keep the <span style="font-size: small;">faith.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffered from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia.</span></i></div>
rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-58977741774905773062013-01-09T18:05:00.000-08:002013-01-09T18:05:34.276-08:00Infographic on Alzheimer's Disease<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gPQCScN2feg/UO4hT4o0hEI/AAAAAAAADTk/3HYnaE2p2o0/s640/or-alzheimers-disease-facts-2012.png" width="371" /></div>
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Sent to us by <a href="http://activcareliving.com/news-and-events/alzheimers/alzheimers-disease-facts-and-figures-infographic-/">ActivCare</a>. Thanks!rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-46987412255970930532012-12-24T11:53:00.003-08:002012-12-24T12:10:45.396-08:00Does Caregiver Mentality Ever Change?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h7zlkSMxdKQ/UNiyL8xNmdI/AAAAAAAADPc/iL0WQ4n3uGA/s1600/IMG_0955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h7zlkSMxdKQ/UNiyL8xNmdI/AAAAAAAADPc/iL0WQ4n3uGA/s320/IMG_0955.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">"You've been a care<span style="font-size: small;">giver al<span style="font-size: small;">l your life and that has got to change<span style="font-size: small;">!<span style="font-size: small;">" <span style="font-size: small;">This was the text message I received <span style="font-size: small;">from <span style="font-size: small;">the youngest daughter last week.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the he<span style="font-size: small;">els of a po<span style="font-size: small;">st made about taking care of myself<span style="font-size: small;"> firs<span style="font-size: small;">t<span style="font-size: small;"> as <span style="font-size: small;">it <span style="font-size: small;">will be impossible to t<span style="font-size: small;">a<span style="font-size: small;">ke care o<span style="font-size: small;">f anybody or anything if I cannot <span style="font-size: small;">find a balance<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">AND <span style="font-size: small;">u</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">nderstanding now more th<span style="font-size: small;">an ever that <span style="font-size: small;">w</span></span></span>hen you<span style="font-size: small;"> ha<span style="font-size: small;">ve </span>tended to the needy <span style="font-size: small;">with great zeal<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">the result may be that <span style="font-size: small;">you've </span></span><span style="font-size: small;">created the needy....</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I spoke about worry and the desire to be free from it. Faith, and how to attain it. <span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps a message to myself to appreciate <span style="font-size: small;">the endowment of my new freedom<span style="font-size: small;"> or <span style="font-size: small;">just a good old fashioned pep talk. Aft<span style="font-size: small;">er <span style="font-size: small;">reading so many g<span style="font-size: small;">reat articles on caretaker experiences <span style="font-size: small;">over the years, it is abundantly clear to me that <span style="font-size: small;">if the caregiver is not taken care of<span style="font-size: small;">, the caregiver cannot perform the <span style="font-size: small;">best care.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">So <span style="font-size: small;">how is tha<span style="font-size: small;">t going for me?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Insomuch as it sounds like a great plan, <span style="font-size: small;">the crux lies in <span style="font-size: small;">what transpires when in the throw<span style="font-size: small;">s of <span style="font-size: small;">giving the care. There <span style="font-size: small;">is no time or opportunity to <span style="font-size: small;">seek thera<span style="font-size: small;">py, attend <span style="font-size: small;">group ther<span style="font-size: small;">apy, have<span style="font-size: small;"> your hair and <span style="font-size: small;">na<span style="font-size: small;">ils done<span style="font-size: small;">. There<span style="font-size: small;"> is no offensive position on the field.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">My caregiving exper<span style="font-size: small;">iences did not begin with Bill's <span style="font-size: small;">illness, <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">rather it </span>began some 4<span style="font-size: small;">4 ye<span style="font-size: small;">ars ago when my <span style="font-size: small;">brother was born.<span style="font-size: small;"> With so much time in the sea<span style="font-size: small;">t, </span>it makes me wonder how one sheds the thi<span style="font-size: small;">ck se<span style="font-size: small;">cond </span>skin after <span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">o many years<span style="font-size: small;"> and how hard <span style="font-size: small;">will I search for <span style="font-size: small;">others to care for?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A recent article from Gary LeBlanc noted, "</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once the human heart takes on the difficult but worthy task
(and identity) of becoming a caregiver, it will remain a caregiver."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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If the caregiving experience over my lifetime now remands me to this identity and life mission, I must be better prepared. Should this plight be embedded so deep in my psyche, there may be little else to do but find some way to manage it.<br />
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I will never forget Bill's cousin whispering in my ear after the graveside service, "You are going to experience the most unique emotions; grief and relief."<br />
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He was right. Grieving for years at each loss in the steps of digression and relief for the end of his suffering. But, I found fulfillment in my abilities to make his life better. Just as it fulfills me to satisfy the request for a special meal or to plan an event - it completes me.<br />
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Saying out loud everyday, "I shall not be a caregiver, I will not be a caregiver, I do not want to be a caregiver" doesn't seem to be working. Upon reflection, more specific prayers are needed. Perhaps it's<br />
that I know that I cannot be a significant and adequate caregiver at this time. That my plans to take care of myself first and worry less for others is unrealistic, but for a spell is in order. Just a vacation from the routine, as it never occurred to me until Kate said it<i>...."throwing the caregiver mantra and way of life out the window may be impossible for me to do."</i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffered from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</span></i>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-45572205016980615532012-12-24T07:27:00.001-08:002012-12-24T07:27:11.584-08:00Scotty McCreery - Christmas in Heaven (Lyrics)<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LUtc_olEiRY" width="480"></iframe><br />
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</div>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-34428467303787994702012-12-15T11:23:00.001-08:002013-02-03T11:27:24.851-08:00The Caregiver - Worry and ProsperityThis world is crazy. Young people shooting babies, people shooting people in hospitals, low morals, drugs, theft - and this posting will surely be out of sequence, out of whack and bounce from thought to thought. I am flighty that way and my processes reflect it. It's the best that I can do today...<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4U7JRluPi8/UMzBABwLWDI/AAAAAAAADCs/xW5Bi-xHYmo/s1600/my+child+you+worry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4U7JRluPi8/UMzBABwLWDI/AAAAAAAADCs/xW5Bi-xHYmo/s320/my+child+you+worry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I'm a worry wart. Supposing I get that straight from my grandmother, she worried and worried and worried. She made her self sick worrying. My Uncle always said, "Some people just can't handle prosperity." WOW, I'm finally getting it.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />Perhaps that's why I get to worry about other folks' worries, because I am so good at it. If you can assuage your worry by passing it on to me, then you can leave your worries at my feet. Because everybody knows that I will handle that part. I will worry for you, for me, for everybody. I will give you my time, my energy, my advise and then find that I am left with nothing. Empty, tired and alone.<br />
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I worried about what would happen to us when Bill got sick, I worried about what was to come, what was next, how he felt, how he would feel, how I would feel, how I could make it easier for our children if I carried the burden, if I was doing it right. I made rash decisions out of fear.<br />
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It was easy to take on the worry of the world, because I could distribute some of that worry on to Bill (back in the day). Then, when I found the stress associated with the worry exacerbated his condition, I took it all.<br />
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Lately, I worry about having so many leaves in the yard, where my kids are, their health and future, the end of the month. Understanding that it is all centered around fear and that it has gone on so long, it is a pattern, a part of my life, my make-up. Give it to me, I can handle it. That's been my mantra. I'm an enabler. I enable people to continually pass their worries and issues on to me.<br />
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But, I want to stop. I want to stop worrying. My remorse over the past and fear of the future is clearly Satan working within me. I've allowed it.<br />
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By grappling with the fact that my worry is a sign of fear, it struck me like a bolt of lightening...'Fear Is Not Faith'. Today, I want to no longer give Sin an ounce of power over me. I want to rest easy knowing that I can turn my worries over to God and let him carry the burden for awhile. I've had no FAITH.<br />
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Rather than resorting to my Bible only in the throws of too much worry, I have vowed to study and pray for peace and wisdom. I will remain FAITHFUL because my lack of faith has been a terrible and frightening thing. I seek rest of body, peace of mind, contentment of heart and a spiritual well-being.<br />
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Jesus reminds me, <i>"Let
not your heart be troubled, ye believe in God, believe also in Me”
(John.14:1)</i><br />
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In the last few days, I have intentionally turned so many worries and troubles over to God. Trusting that my faith in his word and HIS promise will end the worry, that HE will take good care of me. Rather than committing so much of my time to worrying over others and their problems and the issues they lay at my feet, I shall commit my way, my life, my thoughts and my time to the Lord. If I can just find the strength to worry over my own needs for a change and knowing that I cannot control others thoughts or actions would be a huge relief. Did I say control?<br />
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And therein lies the problem. I may think I've been in control, but quite the opposite. Did I control how long my husband lived with his illness? Did I control how the banks and creditors dealt with the business? Do I control the way others handle their affairs? Live their life? Do I control how others felt - valid or not? Do I control resentment or disdain from others? Can I control how much someone may love and respect me? Truth is, I control/controlled nothing. But by me insisting that I was in control, I relinquished any chance at prosperity.<br />
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I put so much stock and time into my family and friends and the problems and issues of others, that I lost myself. Admirable perhaps, honorable, maybe. Whether from my own guilt, my own remorse or my own actions, it's quite exhausting.<br />
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"I need you here, I need you there, I need you to get me out of hot water, I need your assistance, I need you to cook something for me, I need your advise, I need you to listen, I need you to read something, I need you to loan me something, I need you to fix something, I need you to deliver a message. I need you to be with me, I need you to act this way, I need you to not be who your are but who I want you to be. I need you on my own time and please be reminded that my needs are of utmost importance. My life is more important, my money and time are more valuable."<br />
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That's a recap of my day. My life. I am at a loss. And, I've done this to myself.<br />
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I witnessed my grandmother studying her Bible. Bible(s) as they we
all over her house. In every room, in her car, in her purse. Going
through her things, I continue to find scripture written on receipts, in
her address book, in her handbags. She obviously prayed diligently, but
not for herself. She prayed for her husband, for her sisters, for her
children, for her grandchildren, for her Church, for her friends, for
her President. In all of the earmarks, looking at all of the evidence, I
find that she never prayed for herself. She worried so much for everyone else, that I had to step in and worry about her.<br />
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Was she afraid of prosperity? Is that why my Mother is who she is? Because she laid all of her burdens at my grandmother's feet for her to carry. And today, is in a constant search to find somebody to worry about her, for her, with her? Will this trait be unbroken in a family rife of worry, dysfunction, self-indulgence and pride? Is this the cycle?<br />
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One generation to worry, the next to worry over nothing, the next to worry, the next to worry over nothing. Does our over-indulgent self-serving generation beget the next generation of people who never have to worry? Who then beget a generation of people who then have to worry over the previous one in attempt to find a glimpse of humanity and humility? It's mind-boggling.<br />
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This morning a Bestie said, "Looks to me like Rhonda is fixing to get a life."<br />
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Could be. Can I stop? Can I stop doing the same thing over and over again as people have grown accustomed? As I have grown accustomed? Can I be less predictable with my actions, my availability and put my own needs first? Can I handle prosperity?<br />
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Because I have not does not mean that I do not covet a way of life that frees me from excuses. The worrying for all things; mine, yours and theirs - has given me an excuse. An excuse for why I am bound and destined to a life of emptiness. An enabler - all used up.<br />
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Oh, it's made me an exceptional caregiver, business owner, mentor and friend while putting the needs of others before my own. However, does validating myself and my importance in the their lives give me a special place in heaven. I've lied to myself that "I am all that". However, the importance I've placed on myself for being all that to others does not even give me a special place in their lives.<br />
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There are instances that have led up to this posting. This raw awareness. What an eye-opener. It started one way, went another way and burst into flames this morning when I read yet another tragic story. Earlier this week, I posted this entry on Facebook...<br />
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"<i><span class="userContent"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/rhondabrantley">I am tolerant to a fault. Sports, Politics, Race, Religion, Gay or Straight, Rich and Poor, Able or Disabled. What bothers me is all the grand standing that takes place. Who cares? Looks to me like a whole lot of excuses. I can't ever remember standing on a stump screaming "I'm white, I'm a woman, I'm straight". If people spent more time and energy on the things that matter to society as a whole instead of the one thing that they're on the bully pulpit about (typically an individual or personal issue) we would all be a lot better off. There are better ways to wear your badge than ignorantly creating a platform for shock value.</a>" </span></i><br />
<i><span class="userContent"><br /></span></i>
<span class="userContent">What I failed to see, is that insomuch I find disdain for people's self-absorbed actions and voice my transparent self on others<i>, </i>very few people feel the same. The message was that people so want agreement for their way of life that they zero in on their ISSUE absent the feelings of others. However, my post was no different. I zeroed in on my disdain for it, which is my issue. My view of how the world should operate and society should be is certainly not shared. I get it.</span><br />
<br />
With such a desire to be the best wife, best cook, best mother, best grandmother, best friend. And now, no husband, grandchildren in far away places, children doing their own thing, friends with family and lives of their own along with a hatred of the kitchen (once my favorite place to be).<br />
<br />
Witnessing last night a family coming together for the birth of their first grandchild, the love and support, a beautiful miracle at such a wonderful time of year was bittersweet. Events such as this <br />
remind me I will never share this with my soul mate. It was heart-wrenching. That I lost so much time with Bill by volunteering and attending to the needs of others burdens me today. The load that I carried in our 20 plus years together now haunts me. He left me with the results of our agreed upon dynamic. The manner in which we handled our affairs and nurtured our family. That I have not expressed or shown my personal pain in an attempt to be strong for others now backfires.<br />
<br />
Digressing to Monday, a friend unknowingly expressed this message, "You have to be specific with your prayers." <br />
<br />
So on my knees Tuesday night, I prayed for strength and wisdom. I prayed for relief. I prayed for forgiveness. I prayed for the protection and health of my loved ones and friends. But, I failed to specifically pray for me. My needs. It has taken me a few days and hours of prayer to realize this. For it too comes full circle. That the beginning of faith is the end of worry. Be specific.<br />
<br />
To find my own place now will be a battle within myself. To cherish the memories without remorse, to pack up his things and put them away, to get through this season without a complete breakdown, to hold my tongue, to be good to myself, to make sure all know that I never step back from carrying the load with a reminder that the pain and hurt is shared. That Christmas is not about things, but about people. That we cannot control that people are killing and hurting others, nor can we control their grief. We cannot make them feel better, we cannot fix it. We cannot control the things others say nor their actions, but we can control how we worry.<br />
<br />
And anyway, who am I to think that today someone may NEED me? There is no such person.<br />
<br />
That I worry that all of the memories and traditions will be lost. That I find myself worrying if I am the only one who has placed such a high value on tradition, history and family. Is it just not that important? Not at all, it's that I'm just not that important. That's the fear. That is the worry.<br />
<br />
Generally, one would never combine FEAR and Rhonda in the same text. Perhaps, FEARLESS would be a better description. So, my fearless actions were obviously a result of fear. Doesn't seem possible, however, that fear is the culprit and today my nemesis.<br />
<br />
That we lost a child, a loved one, a friend. That we lost the man who protected us, I will “Cast thy burden upon the Lord and He
shall sustain thee/me.” (Psalms 55:22).<br />
<br />
With God as my witness, I take responsibility for my actions and my life, no excuses. I have and will pay the consequences. I will not blame anyone else for what I have brought upon myself. I believe being honest is the first step that I must take and I need to BELIEVE.<br />
<br />
My specific prayers will change. I will continue to pray for you, but first I must pray for faith. Faith in God. Faith in myself. Specific prayers to lessen the pain. Prayers for my own salvation and prayers for God's specific plan for me. <br />
<br />
I see now that he is the only one with broad enough shoulders to carry the load. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i></span>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-31445552814190692442012-12-09T05:33:00.000-08:002012-12-09T06:31:32.397-08:00Today is Sunday, the 9th of December...This day last year would have started like this<span style="font-size: small;">:</span><br />
<br />
I would rise early, grab a cup of coffee and hit the keyboard. Typically, everyone would be home that should be home. The hustle and bustle wouldn't begin until Michelle was ready to leave for work. As always, Bill would sleep until he woke up. No cereal, oatmeal or pop-tarts for breakfast. On Sunday, I always cooked for him. He could always remember it was Sunday.<br />
<br />
Things look different around here this year. The house is less decorated and in a much different style. Perhaps minimalist, where less is more. Keeping watch over me is a tall single cypress outside the bedroom window, lit up with the extra Christmas lights. Willie Splinter and I watch the lights dance on the wall until midnight.<br />
<br />
A couple weeks ago and in fits and starts, I began cleaning out his closet. A nice surprise or two when going through the pockets, it is odd that I can remember nearly exactly where we were the last time he wore this or that. Separating into categories for quilts, the Abercrombie button downs here, the Hilfigers and Columbias there. I had forgotten he owned a tuxedo until I pulled it out.<br />
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By now he would be asking nearly constantly, "When are we leaving for Mikie's?"<br />
<br />
Always anxious and excited about a road trip, I may take a different route this year.<br />
<br />
The girls and I reminisced last night over turkey ring. I guess when the shock begins to wear off, one begins to remember better the terms of endearment, his expressions of surprise, the funny things he said, his take on the world.<br />
<br />
Looking around, this house seems larger. Not that furnishings have been removed, but most definitely because he's not in it. Or is he? In every inch of this place, there is a memory.<br />
<br />
Bill loved the holidays, the lights at Christmas, cooking, eating and seeing his family come together in our home. Today, I am thankful we accommodated his love of the banana pudding trifle, the chocolate covered cherries, the gathering together to make a fuss over him. He enjoyed Christmas morning as much as any child<span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VEVUjVk0gqA/UMSVOWk6ZZI/AAAAAAAADA0/lBiNGNkjXHs/s1600/Bill_Christmas_2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VEVUjVk0gqA/UMSVOWk6ZZI/AAAAAAAADA0/lBiNGNkjXHs/s400/Bill_Christmas_2010.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
I wrote within weeks of his passing, "<a href="http://www.rhondabrantley.com/2012/04/god-gives-us-memories-that-we-may-have.html">God gives us memories, that we may have roses in December.</a>"<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">It would have been so easy to shut down the holidays altogether this year<span style="font-size: small;">. </span>Even with a new twist on Christmas, we're finding <span style="font-size: small;">it </span>extremely difficult to come up with a new plan. </span>Actually, the most comforting thing we've found is home.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Today <span style="font-size: small;">mark<span style="font-size: small;">s exactly 8 months<span style="font-size: small;">. On the 9th of April on Easter Sunday. </span></span></span>Running my hands across his jackets brings comfort and even though I've left out a few things to wrap up in, my goal is to have most<span style="font-size: small;"> of his closet packed away by the <span style="font-size: small;">New Ye<span style="font-size: small;">ar.</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">More aware now than ever the impressions you make and the legacy you leave<span style="font-size: small;">, I ponder, <span style="font-size: small;">"</span></span>How will I be remembered and <span style="font-size: small;">w</span>ill there always be roses in December?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">For us, I suspect you can cou<span style="font-size: small;">nt on it...</span></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley, suffered from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</span></i>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-67052627560587369372012-11-14T11:43:00.000-08:002012-11-14T12:05:41.287-08:00The Holidays and Italian Thanksgiving<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C1xrJdp5NyM/UKPvUgfOeyI/AAAAAAAAC3Q/DvB_AbiiVTw/s1600/IMG_6969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C1xrJdp5NyM/UKPvUgfOeyI/AAAAAAAAC3Q/DvB_AbiiVTw/s320/IMG_6969.JPG" width="320" /></a>Lord knows, I have no idea what to expect as we approach Thanksgiving and Christmas. Bill loved watching us decorate for Christmas. Actually, I remember lovingly our first Christmas together. He left on a Friday for the hunting camp and coming home, literally slammed on the breaks in front of the house as up on the hill, centered in the dining room window was a very large, very well lit and very beautiful Christmas tree.<br />
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Because of our family dynamic, having Christmas or Thanksgiving at our home on the actual day never rendered the entire bunch together. Kids visiting their mothers and fathers (natural) which finally left us the choice of celebrating early. So, Thanksgiving dinner with our bunch was generally the week before and nobody really wanted the traditional Thanksgiving fare. That is when Italian Thanksgiving began.<br />
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This year, the girls (Kate and Michelle) are absolutely against anything to eat that even resembles Thanksgiving fare. Only substituting a ham for a turkey on Easter, the meals are typically identical. (Remember, Bill passed not too long after our Easter meal April 9th)<br />
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His passing also represents new traditions. I am not cancelling our old ones, but this year feel that it is important for us to try and move forward. Still raw and fresh in our hearts is the emptiness of his absence, therefore I am confident that insisting upon keeping the status quo is a not so compassionate way to approach this. Hard enough will be navigating the memories without him, even harder will be trying to recreate something that will never be. It was because of him that those traditions began. It was he who enjoyed them so. He is gone. That tradition is gone.<br />
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So empty the chair he occupied, the space he commanded, the noise he created -<br />
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We have voted and agreed that the girls and I will be having Italian Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving Day. And, because I will not be cooking, we will revert back to a pre-Bill tradition and decorate the tree and house for Christmas - all weekend long!<br />
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The beautiful and thoughtfully collected glass ornaments we have amassed and used over the years will remain in their storage bins, safely marking time for another Christmas down the road. I'm even trading in the old candles for a new scent. The new natural burlap ribbon has been ordered and Tracey Cole and I will be applying the mercury glass look to any and everything we can find.<br />
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I cannot thank those enough for the invitations to spend Thanksgiving away from home. From South Carolina to Texas and many friends locally, the girls have said no thank-you to Thanksgiving fixins'. Nor do they want to spend Thanksgiving with another family. Hopeful that this will improve, I gratefully acquiesce.<br />
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My good friend Sonia Bertolone de Carillo has a locally famous
restaurant named after it's founder (her father). <a href="htto://www;joesitailanonline.com">Joe's Italian</a> will be
taking orders early for next week and I intend to get ours in today. The thought of Mamma's salad, lasagna, ravioli rose, cannoli, bread and dipping sauce, even a little tiramisu makes me smile.<br />
<br />
After recently spending time with Giuseppe (Joe) Bertolone, I came away with a new respect for the guys who built and carried on their businesses, teaching and employing their children, building community with pride and quality. Joe educated me on his home place in Italy with great passion and I was able to assist him with navigating his facebook page. Overall, it was splendid. So perhaps it is not just about having Italian food for dinner, moreover, a tribute of sorts to Joe - the kind of man who goes to work every day, the man who takes care of his family. In sickness or in health because that is just what you do.<br />
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And then, perhaps I will throw in a purchased smoked Turkey for sandwiches and a Costco pecan pie. Perhaps. <br />
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As for Christmas, we have always traveled. Either by boat, plane, train or Suburban. Long trips, short trips, out of the country trips. Beach, Las Vegas, Texas, Utah, Colorado, Bahamas...<br />
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However this year, we are staying at home. And it will probably include the remainder of Joe's Italian menu items we did not get to sample on round one.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</span></i>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-21834302417627161332012-11-05T11:14:00.001-08:002012-11-05T11:14:06.659-08:00<br />
Hi Rhonda, <br /><br />Healthline recently finished putting together a
collection of the best online Alzheimer's videos. You can find it at:
http://healthline.com/health-slideshow/best-videos-alzheimers<br /><br />We encourage you to share the list with friends, followers, and subscribers. <br /><br />Thank you in advance for your consideration. <br /><br />Warm Regards, <br />Tracy<br />
rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-25655165750445972922012-10-27T13:26:00.001-07:002012-10-27T13:26:51.043-07:00Nursing Assistant Guide<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pkkXWiEo-Js/UIxDVpyfo1I/AAAAAAAACuQ/KV0oUgfAQs4/s1600/top_senior_site.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pkkXWiEo-Js/UIxDVpyfo1I/AAAAAAAACuQ/KV0oUgfAQs4/s1600/top_senior_site.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">Hello Rhonda</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">,<br /><br /><span style="background: white;">I'm
following up with you about the list NursingAssistantGuides.com
published today of the Top 100</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: white;">Senior Living Sites for Nurses. </span><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">I emailed you last week to tell you you
had been nominated for inclusion, and I'm happy to report that our
site has been featured on the final list! You can view the whole thing
here: </span></span><br />
<br />
http://nursingassistantguides.com/senior-living/ <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: white;">We
made this list so that our readers, prospective nursing assistant
students and current professionals, could learn more about the growing
field of elder care and senior living. As the baby boomer generation
ages into retirement, there will be a growing need for nurses and
nursing assistants who are passionate about offering lifestyle improving
care to elderly patients. Thank you for maintaining such a useful site,
and congratulations! </span><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">If you need assistance posting the badge, or have any questions or feedback, you can always email me. </span><br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Best, <span class="HOEnZb"><span style="color: #888888;"><br />Lauren</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span><br />
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<br />rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-52863824729028052622012-10-23T20:26:00.000-07:002012-10-24T07:31:12.769-07:00What does six months look like?<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I3lQ4JB_YxI/UIdcWccsTBI/AAAAAAAACtI/_i0NyphfA2I/s1600/IMG_2502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I3lQ4JB_YxI/UIdcWccsTBI/AAAAAAAACtI/_i0NyphfA2I/s320/IMG_2502.JPG" width="314" /></a>I miss him. That's pretty much all there is to say about it.<br />
<br />
Many have asked me to write. The crux is, I have nothing to say. Yet.<br />
<br />
Crazy thing is, we're getting picked up by all kinds of medical blogs and that didn't happen until he was gone. Bill was just the kind of man who would have appreciated that what he was going through - what we were going through - could somehow help someone else.<br />
<br />
His clothes still hang in the closet, his fishing tackle still sits in the garage, his flashlights are still in the bedside table. Sundays are still a killer. Sundays were our special days. Bill left us on Easter Sunday.<br />
<br />
So many things he would have enjoyed this week. Little Miss landed a great job and is close to landing a great internship. She's only 28 credit hours from graduating, but she has the resources to continue on - so that's the plan. All the grandies are growing and doing their thing. I finally painted some walls in the house and I'm sleeping in the bed.<br />
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Then, there are some things he would have worried over. Business issues still haunting us. His mother's affairs still aren't in order. A few of the kids are suffering. Willy Splinter is sleeping in the bed with me.<br />
<br />
Finally pulled myself together enough to order a grave marker when we came upon the 6-month mark. It's curious now how time flies. It was Spring. Now it is Fall.<br />
<br />
I asked my Tracey to accompany me to the cemetery on Sunday to plant the Cottonwood Tree and put out the Deer Dope. She videotaped the event with my iPhone and before it was over we were both sobbing. If I lay it out without editing it, we may all get to sobbing.<br />
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That said, this is what (6) months looks like.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I50SNDQ5s84/UIddbq5_KpI/AAAAAAAACtY/GdTZIRjVLFs/s1600/IMG_2506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I50SNDQ5s84/UIddbq5_KpI/AAAAAAAACtY/GdTZIRjVLFs/s320/IMG_2506.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffered from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</span></span>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-78603864506455488262012-08-06T19:16:00.003-07:002012-08-06T19:16:31.670-07:00Our diatribe made the Healthline Top 25...Hi Rhonda,<br /><br />Healthline editors recently published the final list
of their favorite Alzheimers Dementia blogs and your blog made the list.
You can find the complete list at:
http://www.healthline.com/health-slideshow/best-alzheimers-dementia-blogs
(in no particular order). We encourage you to share your status as one
of the best blogs on the web with your friends, family, & followers.<br /><br />Congrats & continue the great work!<br /><br />Warm Regards,<br />Tracyrhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-47241384102502152062012-06-12T06:40:00.001-07:002012-09-11T07:06:24.941-07:00It's my road and mine alone...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TKZWIh8FX-I/T9dF_yj5xVI/AAAAAAAACOA/ch8TlUXh0rc/s1600/RoadAlone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TKZWIh8FX-I/T9dF_yj5xVI/AAAAAAAACOA/ch8TlUXh0rc/s320/RoadAlone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I've really found it hard to come back to this place. A place where I found refuge so many times before. Perhaps like a sedative, it kept me sane and thwarted the 'come aparts'. If I could just get here, get it written down to something I could see, the feelings of helplessness seemed manageable.<br />
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Was I wrong to think that the need to seek shelter here would end with WB's passing?<br />
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How can it be that it's only been two months when it seems a life time ago that I heard his voice. His last audible and most frequent words and phrases, "Honey, Katie, I love you, thank-you, I'm so sorry" while the same carton of Blue Bell ice cream still sits in the freezer. Not sure I will ever feel the same about ice cream.<br />
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I pass through his closet that adjoins the laundry room many times a day with not much change except the ever rotating section of XXL Guy Harvey t-shirts that I wear to sleep in each night.<br />
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"Keeping myself busy with things to do, does not keep me from thinking of you."<br />
<br />
Knowing that if I cry, the others will. If I go to bed and put the covers over my head, the others will. If I shut myself in and appear sad and beaten, the others will. If you see me and I appear happy, please know that it's my duty. When you've been required to be strong for so long - you may be broken, but you don't know it.<br />
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Gracious and thankful to have so many invitations for dinner, a movie, an out of town jaunt. I am not comfortable with much of that. If you're around too many people too often, the subject comes up. How could it not? I was him and he was me.<br />
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But, I am getting on with this quiet space. It makes it easy to talk with him and ask him questions. Tell him about our day. Let him know we are going to be okay. And, only wave to him on the days I do not actually drive through the cemetery entrance (just up the road).<br />
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Where I find comfort here, our baby has not. I see him here in every chair, curled up in the bed, the rubs on the door casing where he scratched his back. Believing this will change, I resisted the opportunities to evacuate and opted to stay with what we knew. Does the bear go back to the same cave? I am trusting and praying she will begin to appreciate the opportunity with less anxiety and find home was a place that was built for her.<br />
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I knew that life would go on, but like so many other things - until you live this, it's hard to describe. I thought I knew what it was like for people to lose their job, until we shut the business down and I didn't have anywhere to go to work. I thought I knew how the constant care for an Alzheimer's patient would be, I knew the inevitable would come, but foolishly thought I knew how I would handle him not being here.<br />
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No matter how much you hear, you don't hear it. And, you'll never pick up a book to read on loss until you've lost it. We are all so uniquely different that my advise today is that you just jump on the train, girdle yourself up for a rough passage and be prepared to ride it out.<br />
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Thanks, Dorothy Sander, for the inspiration. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dorothy-sander/the-caregivers-silent-bur_b_1570584.html<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffered from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. We lost him on Easter Sunday, 2012. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i></span>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-39034898121100641102012-05-19T10:27:00.000-07:002012-09-11T07:05:47.100-07:00Angry?<br />
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With a previous post within just weeks of WB's passing, my OCD self began to set out my own grieving plan. So, who's the big donkey now? I've always been able to appreciate my faults with humorous deprecation, however this is no laughing matter.<br />
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Here they are...and unfortunately, they're coming in pairs -<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #435616; font-size: medium;">1. SHOCK & DENIAL-</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: small;">You
will probably react to learning of the loss with numbed disbelief. You
may deny the reality of the loss at some level, in order to avoid the
pain. Shock provides emotional protection from being overwhelmed all at
once. This may last for weeks.<br style="color: red;" /><b style="color: red;"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">2. PAIN & GUILT-</span></b><br style="color: red;" /><span style="color: red; font-size: small;">As
the shock wears off, it is replaced with the suffering of unbelievable
pain. Although excruciating and almost unbearable, it is important that
you experience the pain fully, and not hide it, avoid it or escape from
it with alcohol or drugs.</span><span style="color: red;"> You
may have guilty feelings or remorse over things you did or didn't do
with your loved one. Life feels chaotic and scary during this phase.</span><br style="color: red;" /><br style="color: red;" /><b style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;">3. ANGER & BARGAINING-</span></b><br style="color: red;" /><span style="color: red; font-size: small;">Frustration
gives way to anger, and you may lash out and lay unwarranted blame for
the death on someone else. Please try to control this, as permanent
damage to your relationships may result. This is a time for the release
of bottled up emotion.</span><span style="color: red;"> You
may rail against fate, questioning "Why me?" You may also try to
bargain in vain with the powers that be for a way out of your despair
("I will never drink again if you just bring him back")</span><br style="color: red;" /><br style="color: red;" /><b style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;">4. "DEPRESSION", REFLECTION, LONELINESS-</span></b><br style="color: red;" /><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: red;">Just
when your friends may think you should be getting on with your life, a
long period of sad reflection will likely overtake you. This is a normal
stage of grief, so do not be "talked out of it" by well-meaning
outsiders. Encouragement from others is not helpful to you during this stage of grieving. During
this time, you finally realize the true magnitude of your loss, and it
depresses you. You may isolate yourself on purpose, reflect on things
you did with your lost one, and focus on memories of the past. You may
sense feelings of emptiness or despair. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><b><span style="color: #435616; font-size: medium;">5. THE UPWARD TURN-</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: small;">As
you start to adjust to life without your dear one, your life becomes a
little calmer and more organized. Your physical symptoms lessen, and
your "depression" begins to lift slightly.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: #435616; font-size: medium;">6. RECONSTRUCTION & WORKING THROUGH-</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: small;">As
you become more functional, your mind starts working again, and you
will find yourself seeking realistic solutions to problems posed by life
without your loved one. You will start to work on practical and
financial problems and reconstructing yourself and your life without him
or her.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: #435616; font-size: medium;">7. ACCEPTANCE & HOPE-</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: small;">During
this, the last of the seven stages in this grief model, you learn to
accept and deal with the reality of your situation. Acceptance does not
necessarily mean instant happiness. Given the pain and turmoil you have
experienced, you can never return to the carefree, untroubled YOU that
existed before this tragedy. But you will find a way forward.</span></span></span> You
will start to look forward and actually plan things for the future.
Eventually, you will be able to think about your lost loved one without
pain; sadness, yes, but the wrenching pain will be gone. You will once
again anticipate some good times to come, and yes, even find joy again
in the experience of living. </span></span></span></div>
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ANGER. Yep, there it is. I'm ANGRY. And, it only took a facebook post from a friend this morning to wake me up and force me to realize what was going on. So, thank-you Jim Mason for this...<br />
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Not only am I angry now for the events of the past few weeks, there is an anger surfacing that I have been quelling for years. Suspecting the suppression is over and I'm beginning to erupt like Mount St. Helens, this is me looking in the mirror.<br />
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And, it looks like it might just take some counseling to keep this ANGRY BITCH from going postal. <br />
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<br />rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-24668068018243748352012-05-07T05:45:00.000-07:002012-06-12T06:40:41.662-07:00Shared from good friend, Jim Popper...<h1>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/05/06/health/a-rare-form-of-dementia-tests-a-vow-of-for-better-for-worse.html?hpw&fb_source=message">When Illness Makes A Spouse a Stranger...</a> </span></h1>
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<br />rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-8847952643861172632012-04-28T13:42:00.005-07:002012-09-11T07:04:54.922-07:00Navigating Turbulant WatersMy feelings may certainly change, but today I do not believe there are certain and absolute stages of grief (a list) or that you must go through all of those stages to cope, to heal, to move on. However, most telling is that the navigation of our own stages of grief will influence the decisions we make, the relationships we are able to nurture, the rest of our lives - in general.<br />
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Is this the 'valley of the shadow of death'?<br />
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Instead, a friend describes it as waves in a turbulent ocean. With each wave, we are delivered a different emotion just as unique as the wave itself. I believe that too is an accurate assessment.<br />
<br />
The relationships that we had with Bill (Dad) are each as individual as our own DNA due to birth order, gender, age and the stage he was in his life. Therefore, how could you subscribe to a notion that the stages of grief for each of us would follow any specific pattern?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h8G312CyJYI/T5xLUn78foI/AAAAAAAABpw/iuA3mcZql70/s1600/Dk4.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h8G312CyJYI/T5xLUn78foI/AAAAAAAABpw/iuA3mcZql70/s320/Dk4.png" width="216" /></a>Last week, I began searching for books to pass along to help us through this process. What surfaced was book upon book with recommendations and advise on navigating those 'perceived' stages. Much attention is given to "Fatherless Daughters" and "Fatherless Sons" and even more on "Grieving a Long-Term Illness" and "Grieving Sudden Death". You can check all the boxes as all apply.<br />
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Even though we can accept that our Mother was our first love and that bonds with our Fathers are unique, our loss will be even more unique that that. Bill was any and everything he needed to be. And not only a father to our own children, but a father-figure to many - and at times even to me, the wife.<br />
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Since my own father-figure was such a moving target, the manner in which Bill 'fathered' his children contributed to the unrelenting admiration and love I have for him. Obviously then, my own early loss dictated and influenced my future.<br />
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Then someone recently asked, "What will Rhonda do now?" <br />
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Obviously, Bill made such an impact in life, that his survivors were/are in some ways defined by that (to others). That without him, we must now find our own identity. Then, after a conversation with Little Miss at 3:00 am this morning, I find myself in overdrive today to separate our purpose in his life (involvement in the businesses, life, care giving) and the influence and imprint he left. <br />
<br />
For most of this immediate brood of 8, he was the center of our
universe. Some how, and without recognizing it, he uniquely and
lovingly demanded it. But, I also know without doubt, Bill Brantley
would never want the things that
happened to him or the decisions he made to ultimately
influence our lives to a degree that it defines us.<br />
<br />
This is what I do not wish for our youngest...<br />
<br />
"Hi, I am (NAME). I am a (OCCUPATION). I live in (CITY, STATE). I am (MARRIED/DIVORCED). I have (NUMBER OF CHILDREN). And, I lost my father when I was 19."<br />
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"But, I really lost him at 14 years of age when he was diagnosed and I began the grieving process. Then, we lost most everything to care for him. My life changed on a dime. Everything I knew was gone and something else kept leaving every day. I experienced loss everyday for many years. Now I feel lost."<br />
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This cannot define her.<br />
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Even though I recognize that each of us had a unique
relationship with him and will obviously have very special feelings and
memories, I separate Little Miss from the pact only because of her circumstances (age, timing, life experience, an older Dad, more end of life time with him).<br />
<br />
That he may never see Little Miss graduate from college, or walk her
down the isle does not mean that he did not influence it. That he will
not be physically present for the birth of more grandchildren or
great-grandchildren or personal accomplishments is a great loss for us,
as the joy he possessed and showered us with was a gift; the affirmation of his
love, his encouragement, an unbridled acceptance of our misgivings, the total
package.<br />
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Personally, I believe that instead of dwelling on the notion that 'he
will miss it', I will encourage us to preserve the memories by sharing the
feelings we had with him during those milestones. I cannot even pretend to know what this looks like or at this point in time how
foolish this may sound in a week/month/year.<br />
<br />
But, if you're
wondering what "Rhonda will do?" Now that reality is setting in, I'll most likely:<br />
<br />
1) Think it and dissect it to a fault, then<br />
2) Embrace it and navigate all the advise and commentary.<br />
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It's what comes next that's full of uncertainty. That I may be able to understand and cope better this week, that the oldest siblings may be able to get through this with better skill-sets, that levels of guilt or remorse may influence us differently or that this sudden absence will affect us for the rest of our lives are questions we cannot answer today.<br />
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So, how do we navigate these turbulent waters after walking through the valley of the shadow of death?<br />
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Perhaps we will stumble upon the right tools (therapy, books and manuals, mediation, church family). However, it is my belief that as long as we are willing to stand on the edge of the surf with Bill's influence in our hearts, the life raft we throw each other will be what defines us.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yphqvL2MxAs/T5xQ8EhRc8I/AAAAAAAABqo/Bz0tt09a-V8/s1600/Dad13.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yphqvL2MxAs/T5xQ8EhRc8I/AAAAAAAABqo/Bz0tt09a-V8/s320/Dad13.png" width="320" /></a>It will most definitely define me.rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-7127705684269239252012-04-22T10:04:00.000-07:002012-09-11T07:06:55.073-07:00God gives us memories, that we may have roses in December...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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It's been two weeks, today. Two weeks of the broadest wave of emotions. So vast, so unusual, so raw I cannot find the words to describe them. <br />
<br />
I begin posting for solace after Bill's diagnosis in 2007. On the worst days, just writing it down and putting the angst into words was therapeutic.<br />
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Then, I found myself with nothing to say. The realities of what loomed ahead were just too ugly to confirm. To write it all down was just too REAL. Written documentation always is. To have to explain where we were and his level of impairment began to invade the respect and dignity we fought so hard to protect.<br />
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Alzheimer's doesn't really get you. It's what happens because of it. We knew early on that Bill's dementia was probably mixed and that an inherited vascular condition was likely the culprit. In the end, they're all treated the same. You just have to pick your battles and I am the most guilty for never fussing about the pleasures he derived from eating well. At the end of the day, if that's what makes you happy - it just made sense to me to load him up with a second helping. There are no good ways to explain to an AD patient how many calories they're allowed.<br />
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It was Easter Sunday. Kate was home from school and took off her regular Sunday shift to stay at home with us. I cooked all day and cooked more than I normally would, as Bill moved from the kitchen to the sofas - back and forth all day. He was happy, happy, happy. Mama was in the kitchen and Katie Doll was at home. He talked all day about how good it smelled, when it would be ready, the dates of our next road trip. Bill and Kate shared the batter from the mixer and bowl before the cake went into the oven. He took the trash out several times and promised to try and shower before bedtime. My regret is not documenting this with pictures and the camera was out as it always is.<br />
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Sundays are my days to study and work as the phone rarely rings. So dedicated to that day, I'm not sure I ever turned the computer on. Breezy and warm, the sun was bright and high in the sky all day.<br />
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The rest is still a blur, and surely God's way of doling it out in increments we can handle. Is that even possible? It's been shared that we will have bad days and better ones.<br />
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Just as we shared here to get us through the hardest of times before, I am hoping to rely on this platform to preserve our precious memories and share with caregivers the rest of the story. Things change so fast, but some things will remain the same. Our family is closer and our friends are dearer to us than ever before. In his last days, Bill was the most grateful, the most humbled and the most loved. We were the loves of his life and he was ours.<br />
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We laid my precious husband to rest on Friday, April 13, 2012. Below is an excerpt from our children...<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley, suffered from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</span></i>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-38437038770812644782012-03-05T15:01:00.000-08:002012-03-05T15:01:23.764-08:00Friendships, Un-Plugged...<span style="font-size: small;">"Close friends are truly life's treasures. Sometimes they know us better than we know ourselves. With gentle honesty, they are there to guide and support us, to share our laughter and our tears. Their presence reminds us that we are never really alone." Vincent van Gogh</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
To hear it so many times, to say it more often than not, to express what happens when life gets in the way of friendships...that you really know who your friends are when you're going through adversity in lieu of prosperity. Everybody's thought it or experienced it at some point in their life. Feeling used because somebody didn't give enough, didn't call or write, didn't step up when the going got tough. At the end of the day, how is that measured? Is that what friendship is about?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Party like a rock star friends, travel around the world friends, best in fine food and wine friends, all the bells and whistles friends, because we were in the same place friends, childhood friends - those relationships were in high quantity and filled us up.<br />
<br />
I could spew the emotional travesties of lost friends for weeks and months, and then most emphatically convince you that I was the ultimate giver, the best friend, the one who contributed the most, because that is how we see it. Is it ever really our fault when friendships go south?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Sure it is. Let's be honest with ourselves, we were probably solely to blame for the majority of lost relationships simply because life's timing just has a way of screwing things up. Whether it's a move, a family issue, career change, life altering circumstance, physical or financial loss - it happens. And unfortunately, we let it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Most telling is that we change.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Paraphrasing yet again, "regardless of the pedigree of loss, it you haven't experienced it, you won't get me". We now communicate differently. Actually, we speak a different language. One that cannot be taught, but one that must be learned while treading the rough waters of the cesspool. Whether it's loss through death or divorce, physical or financial, it's loss. If you've lost a spouse, lost a child, lost a job, lost a business, lost your life's savings, lost your home - it's a loss. If you've been fortunate enough to have skated through life's perils without it, you are probably not my friend. You've missed the memo inviting you to this special little club, the club you never want to be in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
So, we mourn the loss. The loss of friendships that cannot survive the loss.<br />
<br />
I was reminded yesterday that, "These unfortunate losses can begin to define us and if not checked have the ability to cast a nasty curse on those we care the most about."<br />
<br />
For those in the club, isn't it true that:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-size: small;">The most insignificant things to some may be hurtful and debilitating.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">It doesn't matter where or who we come from, there is a likelihood that we all end up in a similar space.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">Our perceptions about someone or something is only true to us until we take the time to know better. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">That the 'lost ones' are typically more sensitive to (words) and may easily misconstrue actions and comments by others. We think harder and deeper and long term. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">We analyze, turn it inside out, take it apart and put it back together again because we're in a debilitating situation and want to make damn sure that if we ever climb back out, we stay out.</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">So, we begin to regain our footing, find our way and (oh hell to the yes) allow karma to work it's magic. Praise God, we can celebrate the relationships that begin to rise like a phoenix from the ashes, the friendships you would have missed if life had not gotten in the way and made room for the best friends, ever. To be who you want to be, to say what you need to say and all the while feel loved unconditionally.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Even though I've misinformed my myself about the friends that come and go through loss, the fog is lifting. You had this, then life changes. You now have this, because life changed. It's taken me far too long to realize that today my safe harbor are really those who know my biggest loss is just on the horizon. They're not in the "run for the hills because it got messy category" or the "I am here because we've been through this together category", but most importantly they're in the "here and ready to save me, regardless category".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Fortunately for me, all was not lost, and not all perished. But the cream has a way of rising to the top and I find myself gently and selectively sharing with my lifelong steadies the raw plethora of feelings and ideals that emerge. Because without loss, they will never get to this next level of understanding and humility. It's when the opportunities to think differently because you have to, create a desire to really think and do what you want facilitates pure liberation. Doesn't sound so Rock Star?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
This Spring and on the cusp of a 50-year milestone, I am a lucky girl to feel so abundantly loved and understood. When the best birthday present so far is a blinged-out parachute for a softer landing...now that's Rock Star!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"People, the shit is going to hit the fan, it could get ugly and we're not going anywhere category."</span></td></tr>
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i></span></div>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-54077726015257339542011-12-02T17:10:00.001-08:002011-12-02T20:15:04.122-08:00It's a shame, really. And, a pity...<div style="text-align: justify;">
...that I have not visited my own diatribe in months. So many reasons really, now that I think about it:</div>
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<ul style="text-align: justify;">
<li>Sometimes saying (writing) it makes it more real.</li>
<li>It was created as a suggestion for therapy, but sometimes it just gets too depressing. </li>
<li>For a long spell we were in another lull while holding.</li>
<li>I am spending my words on other blogs.</li>
<li>Time has become such a commodity.</li>
</ul>
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Many things to be thankful for this season. Kate is pushing through her college education as if it were a race, moving into new digs, and working a part time job since June. She still comes home on Fridays, but works most of the weekend leaving out on Monday morning for a noon class. Kate knows that if too many days go by without her daddy laying eyes on her creates issues and manages her class schedule accordingly. She's adding a minor to her schedule and a few soft courses as everything on the horizon for her revolves around her major. Finishing up the first semester of her second year and already 61% complete amazes me. Smart, focused, driven. Just like I like it.</div>
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We recently had a scare with our daughter-in-law, but seem to have thankfully dodged a bullet. After a six weeks of testing, nothing significant was found to explain 3 spots on her brain. Joni is a trooper and has a Trojan will. When she started nursing school, she announced that she would be concentrating on geriatric care (and that she could one day help me with Bill). Joni gives large and gives privately and is like nobody else I have ever been around. In her heart and in her body, she knows something is just not quiet right. Knowing that she had anything going on in her brain sent me into a tailspin. Having become very aware of what any kind of brain deficiency does to not only the patient, but everyone within striking distance seems to invoke slight panic....around here, anyway.</div>
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I prayed diligently for nothing short of a complete healing for Joni. God is good, that way. We have an understanding. He is fully aware that my pail is full. No doubt about it. Blessings come in all kinds of ways, I just have to remind myself to recognize them.</div>
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A busy summer ended with several days at the beach with our good friends, the McKays. This has become a yearly ritual to spend time with them on the most beautiful stretch of beach in the world. We left earlier for home than originally planned, as Bill began having issues finding the right bedroom. The longer we stayed, the worse it got. I would probably rather be at the beach than any other place in the world and only hope that before my time expires, there's a window of opportunity for me to soak up vitamin D without a schedule.</div>
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We had Andrew, Preston and Taylor Paige from Texas and Will and Meghan from Boston. House was full from June 1st until Labor Day. It is a joy for me to know that they want to come. We still don't do a lot, but I suppose we manage to find things they enjoy.</div>
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Susie comes from Boston every chance she gets and I cannot describe
in words how wonderful that has been. To have someone to talk to until
the wee hours of the night, someone who loves WB as much as I, who
doesn't witness the daily grind, that sacrifices work schedules and
leaves her kids, to just acknowledge and support us girls and then the
bonus, she brings with her Maddie, Dalt, Meg and Will - it's been a
wonderful thing. To know that she knows WB has nothing to offer, nothing to share, nothing at all and yet still makes the trek. I admire her. Any difference of opinion we have ever had is long forgotten as we focus on WB's needs. Another blessing.</div>
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Several days a week, Michelle wrangles WB for me, either taking him on
rides or running errands. By the time he rises in the morning, I been studying
for hours and she's taken over his first cup, the pop tarts and his
morning medicine routine. It is a pretty tough job, but she can keep him
entertained until at least after lunch. Michelle absolutely handles the heavy lifting. </div>
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Since May, I've been able to make one weekend trip to the beach with Sheri, a weekend trip to Memphis with the girls and one ballgame with Kate. Other than that, its pretty much all hands on deck. Sometimes you just have to get to a place where you know its going to be easier on everybody and resist at all costs "not upsetting the apple cart". It won't be easy with the sitters finally start coming, as WB just does better staying at home with the people he knows.</div>
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Moving on to the white elephant in the room, the reason the Blog exists at all, the main attraction...</div>
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It's just not good. You can dress it up, splash a little cologne on it, prop it up in a window - you just can't make a purse out of a sow's ear, which was once one of WB's all time favorite sayings. Not too much more to say about it except:</div>
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<li> Can no longer organize the materials for a sandwich.</li>
<li> Can no longer cut his meat, butter his bread, ties his shoes.</li>
<li> Train of thought is down to seconds.</li>
<li> I could once finish his sentences, now I have no idea most of the time what he's trying to say.</li>
<li>We pretty much communicate for him.</li>
<li>Lots of crying and frustration.</li>
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I absolutely know without doubt the Alzheimer's medications are having little to no effect. However, he still never misses a dose as I refuse to chance it and daylight savings time is for the birds when there's an AD patient in the house. Just this afternoon at dark, he emerged from the bedroom fully dressed, pockets packed and dragging his shoe laces ready to head out the door. I'm not sure where we were going and it took a good 30 minutes to convince WB that we were not going to see "that other boy". He never could tell me who that other boy was, but it took a bowl of tomato soup and three grilled cheese sandwiches to get the cow back in the barn.</div>
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Just another one of those textbook symptoms, having slept in the den chair for three years keeps me pretty tuned in to the sun-downing and night wandering. Supposing now the meds it would take to keep him down all night would kill him outright, we just roll with the punches. At 2:00 am this morning and after hearing the biggest racket ever, I found he had moved the comforter and quilt off the bed and was having a Baptist pallet in the master closet floor. You may say leaving him there to sleep it off a great option, except for those damned consequences...</div>
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This is daily living, folks. Much like having a toddler in the house, its hell on wheels.And the stupid questions still keep coming, "How's Bill, <u>is he getting any better</u>?"</div>
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You're kidding, right? Just Google Alzheimer's. Please. Do it for me. Do it for yourself. Just do it.</div>
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His doctors, our neighbors, friends and people who you would never suspect have started opening the door to counsel. Kind words or just a look to let you know that they see the toll its taking and that it is okay to feel helpless. Never encouraged to take another route, just an acceptance that we're still in the weeds without a whacker. Ironically, I now see relief coming from those who recognize caregiver needs. As if to say, "we're shoring you up so that you can keep the vigil."</div>
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Since being blunt is one of my hallmarks or (faults), I see no reason to hold back now. You just have to get here to know what its like to see who's still standing with you. Then, you better have the guts to accept who is not.</div>
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Interestingly, this came out of my mouth tonight, "To know him now, is to love him most precious. A man who once feared nothing or nobody. A man who dedicated his life to his family and his children. Helpless and vulnerable. And of his antics he says, "I'm sorry, Honey." To which I now reply, "Not as sorry as I am."</div>
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The shame is that I see a shift in the focus. The pity is that I am in favor of accepting it. For most who are closest to us, who care and spend the time
to really know what's going on, the question has become, "How are y'all
holding up?" Upon reflection, perhaps they're starting to see a crack in
the rock.</div>
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<i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-25688994518198837542011-09-05T10:17:00.000-07:002011-09-05T10:34:49.704-07:00New Guidelines for Diagnosing Alzheimer's<div style="text-align: justify;">In April, there was a lot of buzz when the National Institute on Aging (NIA) and the Alzheimer’s Association announced new “Diagnostic Guidelines for Alzheimer’s Disease.” What do they mean to you?<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">RICHARD E. POWERS, M.D., chairman of the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America’s Medical Advisory Board, recently interviewed MARIE A. BERNARD, M.D., deputy director of the NIA and one of the experts who helped develop the guidelines, to gain further insight into the new diagnostic criteria.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YiAzutXXgh4/TmUH_vGrn5I/AAAAAAAAA0w/6SKWV5lGvUc/s1600/Alzheimers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YiAzutXXgh4/TmUH_vGrn5I/AAAAAAAAA0w/6SKWV5lGvUc/s1600/Alzheimers.jpg" /></a><span style="color: red;">Question</span>: What is the difference between dementia and Alzheimer’s disease?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Answer: Dementia is the umbrella term for brain disorders that cause a person to lose their ability to function normally in daily life. Alzheimer’s disease is the most common, but there are other dementias, such as vascular, Lewy body, etc. Although we know Alzheimer’s dementia is distinct from these other forms, in the early stages it may be difficult to differentiate among them. Additionally, many older people may have more than one condition, such as Alzheimer’s disease combined with vascular disease and sometimes small strokes. That is one of the reasons why researchers hope one day to develop an easy-to-administer, reliable and inexpensive biomarker—a test that indicates harmful changes taking place in the brain—that can be used in a doctor’s office. For example, eventually there may be a simple blood test to help diagnose Alzheimer’s disease.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Question</span>: How was dementia diagnosed before these new guidelines and what has changed?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: The new guidelines do not dramatically alter the current process doctors use to diagnose Alzheimer’s disease. Dementia is still diagnosed based on significant and chronic changes in a person’s thinking processes, or as a professional would state, cognition. Healthcare providers speak with the patient and family or caregivers, seeking observations about changes in how the patient thinks, learns and remembers and taking into consideration other potential causes of cognitive decline—for example, medications, malnutrition, dehydration, depression. However, the new guidelines ask doctors to look beyond just memory loss for additional symptoms that may mark onset of the disorder, such as problems with judgment. And the revised guidelines outline ways the healthcare provider should approach evaluating the causes and progression of cognitive decline. For example, healthcare providers are made aware that mild cognitive impairment (MCI) may in many cases progress to Alzheimer’s disease and that memory impairment is not always the first symptom of Alzheimer’s.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Where and how are biomarkers and new imaging tests being used?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: At this time, they are being used by researchers investigating how brain imaging and body fluid analysis relate to the changes taking place in the brain and whether the tests can predict who is at risk for developing the clinical symptoms associated with the disease. For clinicians in research centers or with access to large medical centers, fluid biomarker and imaging tests may be used in certain cases. For example, they may be used to increase or decrease the level of certainty about a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s dementia and to distinguish Alzheimer’s dementia from other dementias. But at this stage, the tests are not available to primary care doctors because investigators are still standardizing and evaluating their use.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Why were the diagnostic criteria for Alzheimer’s disease revised and who led the effort?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: The diagnostic criteria had been in place for more than 27 years and did not reflect the new knowledge that has been gained regarding the progression of the disease. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Will these criteria impact current or future treatment?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: Institutes of Health and the Alzheimer’s Association brought together experts in clinical neuro- and behavioral science to revise the criteria. It is the hope that these criteria will guide future research and advance our discovery of the changes taking place in the brain that lead to the development of Alzheimer’s disease. With that discovery, we should be better positioned to develop effective treatments.The new guidelines will help guide research and hopefully speed the discovery of treatments to delay and/or prevent Alzheimer’s disease. The guidelines also explain to clinicians and the public our deeper understanding of the disease—that it develops over decades, long before the first signs of dementia appear; and for that reason, clinicians need to be sensitive to early changes that may be associated with the development of mild cognitive impairment.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Question</span>: How will doctors use the updated guidelines to better diagnose Alzheimer’s disease?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: For the most part, doctors will consider Alzheimer’s disease in an office setting pretty much as they have in the past, but with updated knowledge about what to look for. A major change for physicians is the consideration of mild cognitive impairment, or MCI. People with MCI have problems with memory or other cognitive functions that are greater than normal for their age and education.<br />
Some doctors may use the guidelines to better inform patients with MCI about their increased risk for developing Alzheimer’s disease. For clinicians with access to researchers conducting biomarker and/or imaging studies, such tests—while experimental—may be used to affirm suspicions of Alzheimer’s disease.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Can doctors use the guidelines to diagnose other kinds of dementia besides Alzheimer’s disease?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: The guidelines are specifically for Alzheimer’s dementia.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Should these new guidelines be used to “re-diagnose”—that is, for those who already have a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: As a physician, I do not see a role for the guidelines being used to re-diagnose an individual who already has a confirmed diagnosis. People who currently have the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease are those with evident functional and cognitive impairment. With lesser impairments, patients and doctors might ask about mild cognitive impairment. In any case, if you or a family member is worried about changes in cognition, you may want to see a healthcare professional such as a geriatrician, geriatric psychiatrist or a neurologist. Early diagnosis aids in planning for the future, from learning about available drugs that treat the symptoms, to making financial decisions, to exploring ways to get involved in clinical trials.<br />
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<span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Are these the only guidelines doctors will be using now?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: The NIA-Alzheimer’s Association guidelines have been developed based on evidence by leading scientists in the behavioral and clinical neuroscience fields. Thus, it is hoped that clinicians will become aware of them and utilize them to enhance how they think about patients with cognitive impairment.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Should primary care clinicians refer their patients to a neurologist for a preclinical evaluation?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: There currently is not a role for biomarkers in routine care. The guidelines for preclinical Alzheimer’s disease are exclusively for research purposes. Researchers will use new advances in imaging and biomarkers to evaluate research participants for buildup of abnormal proteins.<br />
Primary care clinicians should consider referring patients who wish to volunteer for research projects related to Alzheimer’s disease. Research centers can be identified through the Alzheimer’s Disease Education and Referral (ADEAR) Center Web site maintained by NIA, at http://www.nia.nih.gov/Alzheimers/.</div><a name='more'></a><br />
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<span style="color: red;">Question</span>: Will insurance companies pay for biomarker tests?<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Answer</span>: Currently, it is common for Medicare to compensate for a CT scan or MRI to help establish a clinical diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease and rule out other causes of dementia. Testing for preclinical disease is only being conducted in research settings. Looking ahead, a component of the new Medicare Annual Wellness Visit (AWV) allows the clinician compensation for an assessment for cognitive impairment on an annual basis, along with multiple other preventive health assessments. As better screening procedures are developed and the guidelines become better [distributed] we expect clinicians will increasingly recognize and monitor patients with MCI during AWVs-- especially those patients who report memory loss problems that often progress to Alzheimer’s disease. Hopefully, this will be accompanied by counseling regarding long-range planning, and education regarding available community resources. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley, suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i></div>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-171244407045891972011-08-24T07:18:00.000-07:002011-08-24T07:21:28.491-07:00Second great article from USA today....Pat Summitt<i style="color: #990000;">She's to be recognized for her willingness to come out and admit her diagnosis. A cure will only be found through awareness. No shame here, just tough as nails....I LUV IT! </i><br />
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<div class="vaContent" style="text-align: justify;"><div class="inside-copy">Alzheimer’s disease experts Tuesday hailed Pat Summitt for her decisions to go public with her diagnosis of early onset dementia, the Alzheimer’s type — and to go forth with her coaching career.</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">“She deserves tremendous credit for announcing her illness,” says John Morris, a physician and director of the Alzheimer’s disease research center at Washington University in St. Louis who is not involved in her treatment. “This under scores the point that people who are not older can also get dementia. It is key for others to know by recognizing and diagnosing early she, and others, can still function at a very high level for some time to come.”</div><a name='more'></a><br />
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</div><div class="inside-copy">Summitt, 59, has led the Tennessee women’s basketball program to eight national championships. After experiencing several months of erratic behavior, Summitt went to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., several months ago where she was tested and told she had the early Alzheimer’s type dementia.</div><div class="inside-copy">Morris says early onset dementia is a “rare inherited genetic disease” and strikes people younger than 65. Among the 4 to 5 million people in the USA who have a form of dementia, only about 5% have the early onset form, according to the Mayo Clinic.</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">Summitt told <i>The Knoxville News Sentinel</i> her grandmother had severe dementia.</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">Morris is conducting research at Washington University on young people affected by the rare form. While symptoms can appear as early as the 20s, the average of people in their research is 45.</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">“In the earliest changes, the impairment can be quite subtle,’’ says Morris. “She may still be able to have the cognitive capacity to understand basketball strategy and adjust to differences in the game. She may need to rely more on her associates to assist her in that but it doesn't mean she's suddenly incapacitated.”</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">There is no cure for Alzheimer’s, but several pharmaceutical therapies help control symptoms. Early symptoms include forgetfulness, personality changes and poor judgment.</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">“It’s a fatal disease,” Morris says, “From the time of diagnosis to death averages seven to nine years. She's younger, so it may not progress at that rate. She might tolerate it much longer than if she'd been older.”</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">She has other assets working in her favor, according to Deborah Barnes, a dementia expert at the University of California at San Francisco.</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy">“She’s obviously had an active lifestyle and takes good care of herself,” says Barnes. “It’s important to have a good diet and stay as active as possible. That will pay off for her.”</div><div class="inside-copy"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy"><i>By Janice Lloyd, USA TODAY</i></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley, suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i></div>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-26238390975410835512011-08-24T07:12:00.000-07:002011-08-24T07:15:01.293-07:00One of Two Great Articles from USA Today<div class="firstParagraph" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="color: #990000;">WHOA, WB was tested for the APOE gene. Now I learn there are three more genetic markers that can guarantee family members who inherit it, will get Alzheimer's. Shocking... </i></div><div class="firstParagraph" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="firstParagraph" style="text-align: justify;">RESTON, Va. — Bob Blackwell smiles tenderly down at his mom, leans forward, and touches his forehead to hers. He tells her how nice she looks and how happy he is to see her today.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Perched in her wheelchair, she gazes at him, making barely audible chirping sounds. Her lips seem to form a smile.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Carolyn Blackwell, 97, has lived in her same tidy, unadorned little room at a nursing home here for seven years of her past 21 with Alzheimer's disease, a brain-wasting condition that slowly robs people of memory, and later, of the ability to speak, eat, and eventually even breathe.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"></div><a name='more'></a><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">For all of those years, Bob and his wife, Carol, have visited her several times each week to feed her and make sure she's getting good care. But there's no quality of life to speak of, Carol says. "She can't walk, she can't talk. She doesn't do any other activities other than sleep and eat. She's in the late stages of it, so there's really nothing left to do but die."</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">What makes the visit achingly bittersweet is that Carolyn is not the only one with an incurable form of dementia.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Bob, a retired <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/topic/Organizations/Government+Bodies/Central+Intelligence+Agency" title="More news, photos about CIA">CIA</a> executive, was diagnosed almost five years ago, at age 64, with younger onset Alzheimer's, and there's an unspoken sense that he's not just looking at his mother, but at his future.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">For the average person, the risk of Alzheimer's is one in 10, and the biggest factor is age, says Gary Kennedy, director of the division of Geriatric Psychiatry at Montefiore Medical Center in The Bronx, <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/topic/Places,+Geography/States,+Territories,+Provinces,+Islands/U.S.+States/New+York" title="More news, photos about New York">New York</a></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">The risk is about 2% to 5% by age 65, and it doubles every five years after that. Having close family with the disease is a risk factor, too, says <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/topic/Scott+Turner" title="More
news, photos about Scott Turner">Scott Turner</a>, director of the Memory Disorders Program at Georgetown University Medical Center in Washington.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"If one parent or sibling is affected, the risk doubles," he says. If two parents or siblings are affected, the risk is four to 10 times higher.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">USA TODAY has followed Bob Blackwell's progress since 2008, and the Blackwells blog about living with Alzheimer's on USATODAY.com. In recent months, however, Carol has become the main contributor.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">The typical Alzheimer's patient lives about four to eight years after diagnosis, and there is no treatment or cure, says Beth Kallmyer, senior director of Constituent Services for the <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/topic/Alzheimer%27s+Association" title="More news, photos about Alzheimer's Association">Alzheimer's Association</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">As experts from around the world gather this weekend in Paris to present research at the Alzheimer's Association's International Conference on Alzheimer's Disease, the Blackwells and other families will follow the news.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Carol Blackwell says she used to hope for a cure for Bob, but she thinks further ahead now -- about her son, daughter and five grandchildren.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Alzheimer's can hit families hard, Kallmyer says. But in families such as the Blackwells', where more than one member has the disease, the impact is even more profound, affecting relationships and the health of the key caregiver and draining finances, she says.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">But she says the more familiar a family is with dementia and its symptoms, the more likely the disease will be flagged earlier in other relatives. That means spouses, siblings and children will have more time to prepare financially and seek out support.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><b>No magic equations</b></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">When Lee Sneller, 71, of <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/topic/Flower+Mound" title="More
news, photos about Flower Mound">Flower Mound</a>, Texas, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's two years ago, it wasn't a surprise, but it developed sooner than they had expected, says Pat Sneller<b>,</b> his wife of 47 years.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"His mother had died at age 90 of Alzheimer's. His maternal grandmother had had it, too," says Pat, 66, whose father also had Alzheimer's.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Knowing the family history, they purchased long-term health insurance more than a decade ago. In 2009, they joined a clinical trial for healthy people with a family history of the illness. During an exam for the study, the doctor told them Lee already had Alzheimer's.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"When we got this diagnosis, we sat down and cried and cried and said, 'What are we going to do about this?'" says Lee, who is in the early stages and leads an active life. "Pat and I are positive thinkers, and we realized as we talked that we wanted to go forward and let people know so they'd understand if I didn't do things the way they should be done."</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Kallmyer says a diagnosis is sometimes harder for those who already have witnessed the disease up close in another loved one.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"When you have someone who's seen it in a parent, and then their spouse is diagnosed, there's a big emotional adjustment. You have so much knowledge upfront. It can be really overwhelming," Kallmyer says.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Like the Blackwells, the Snellers worry about the legacy they've passed on to their three children and grandchildren.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">But there are no magic equations that can tell the offspring of someone with Alzheimer's whether they will succumb to it, and at what age it will strike, says Elisabeth McCarty Wood, a genetic counselor at the University of Pennsylvania Center for Neurodegenerative Disease Research in Philadelphia.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"The biggest challenge I face when talking with families is that we're not at the point where we can give someone a number as to what their own personal risk is," she says.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">McCarty Wood says genetic testing is definitive for only 2% to 3% of the Alzheimer's population. Early Alzheimer's is caused by a mutation in any of three genes: PSEN1, PSEN2 and an amyloid precursor protein gene called APP. If someone comes from a family known to have one of the genes, then they are eligible for testing; if they test positive, then they're going to get Alzheimer's, she says.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Another Alzheimer's gene, APOE, is a risk factor as well, but again, it doesn't guarantee someone will get Alzheimer's, Kennedy says.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"The majority of the population will never develop Alzheimer's, even if a parent has it," he says. But he says many families will have a member with the illness, which affects 5.4 million Americans, according to the Alzheimer's Association.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Turner says some studies -- most of them observational -- suggest a higher level of education, exercising and staying social may reduce the risk. A history of traumatic head injury, hypertension, diabetes, smoking, alcoholism, stroke and depression may be linked to a higher risk for dementia.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">But Carol Blackwell says she believes there's still a lot to be untangled. "Bob did and does all the right things," she says of her husband, who had an advanced degree, was an avid reader, eats well and stays fit.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><b>The next generation</b></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Bob and Carol's daughter, Jennifer Blackwell, 39, a mother of three and an attorney from <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/topic/Places,+Geography/Towns,+Cities,+Counties/Ann+Arbor" title="More news, photos about Ann Arbor">Ann Arbor</a>, Mich., says she has seen a change in her dad since Christmas. Last weekend, she visited her parents at the family's vacation home in northern Michigan.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"I definitely noticed a lot of change, and that's been hard. We were still at a point six months ago when he asked me about my job. He could still remember the big cases I was working on. Now he's having trouble just finishing a conversation," she says.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Jennifer says she hasn't given a great deal of thought to her own future health, but questions hang out there in the ether.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"These past few years, I've wondered, 'What if that's me one day?'" she says. "But I'm so wrapped up with the changes Dad's going through and the impact it puts on my mom, I'm trying not to worry about what's next for my brother and me."</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">Lately, Jennifer, who lives nine hours from her parents' home in <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/topic/Great+Falls" title="More
news, photos about Great Falls">Great Falls</a>, Va., has contemplated moving closer to them. "I think about it all the time -- moving back. They did a wonderful job raising me, and I want to be able to help them when they need it."</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">"I've been really impressed with the inner strength that you see in families. It's inspiring. And love. Simple love between family members to help each other cope," McCarty Wood says.</div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="inside-copy" style="text-align: justify;">When you watch Bob Blackwell help tuck his mother into her patio chair at lunchtime, and patiently guide the straw in her iced tea glass to her lips, you see he wants to be there for his mom, too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley, suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i></div>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3932139761206137779.post-47387446529110230362011-07-29T21:01:00.000-07:002011-07-30T07:22:04.897-07:00Throwing in the towel......<div style="text-align: justify;">Throwing in the towel, waving the white flag, I surrender. Well, on some levels anyway. On others, not quite so fast. Cannot imagine this turning into a literary masterpiece, just a little metaphoric update. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Several things going on the Alzheimer's front. First, WB has had a prescription change. Supposing it is like any medication you take over a long period of time, it just quits working or your illness is moving so fast, the medicines cannot keep up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Psychotic behavior and anxiety are what we battle most days. You say the word 'psychotic' and may think of padded cells and straight jackets. Whoa Nellie, not so fast.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In this ring of fire, dreams are really hallucinations. If you know a dementia patient who wakes in the mornings or from a nap believing they were late to play a baseball game, that their deceased grandmother is coming to dinner, that the boogeyman is coming to get their stuff ~ its time to up the Seroquel (Haldol). The side effects are scary, but the positives outweigh the risk.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Think about it: You dream (hallucinate) that someone is after you and out the door and down the street you go. Or, you may grab a weapon. Hide? There's really no telling what I might do if I truly believed someone were after me. They may have bad luck....</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I also never want to be on the receiving end of a psychotic episode, again. That was the day I had bad luck....</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Since this symptom of Alzheimer's Dementia may surely cause some level of anxiety, (and it does for WB) Dr. Counce has added a new medicine to help with that. He's now cool as a cucumber, gentle as a kitten, amiable and laid back. Am hoping this cocktail will get us through the holidays.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Even though the first 10 days on the new medicines were a hot mess, I can see the both of us adjusting. When he gets an adjustment, we make adjustments.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This time last year, we suffered a set-back. We are still not certain what caused the mini-stroke, but it knocked him out of the Bapi clinical trial and had me scrambling for cover. It was only after his doctors changed the medicines that I had a change of heart. Those few days were so bad, I ordered up a social worker, a therapist of every flavor and an appointment with Medicaid before WB was ever released from the hospital.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then, I took it all back.<br />
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There was an immediate flood of concern and assistance. There was rallying and a circling of the wagons. Then eventually, we settled back into the same routine with occasional visits from family and friends and the opportunity for WB to go and visit family in their homes ~ </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">News flash on that, he's not going. He's pretty much not going anywhere for very long where I am not (going).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Throwing in the towel.<br />
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The paperwork was mailed off today and my fingers are crossed in hopes that he (or I) get the approval for respite care. Its really just another workaround. Working around WB and what we can do to help us help him without creating too much drama. Trying to make it easy, trying to slip it in without too much commotion. Will he sit with some unknown person for 8 hours so that I can run away once a week? Its a test, for sure. Generally when I'm away for just a few hours, I find him sitting in the garage waiting for me to pull the car in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The work and documentation that goes into these applications will separate the men from the boys. No wonder so many people needing the services never get them, as you had better have kept every piece of paper that came into the house for at least 5 years.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"The Donut Hole", "The Gap", and now "The Look-Back" period for Medicaid. Somebody really needs to write a book on how to survive it. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, most days I still continue to study, accepting that unless there is (more) bad luck for me with a mac truck, the odds that I will most likely survive my husband of nearly two decades are hardcore. Hard to fight change when it comes dosed out like this, but it could get really weird. With the kids grown and raising families of their own, my own tired self wonders which one of them will accommodate their mother in a travel trailer sporting a WiFi antenna in their back yard? We'll see.<br />
<br />
Now with a new social media account, WB sits with me at the computer with a purpose. He enjoys getting the occasional message from school chums who remember him. They tell the best stories and I answer back what he remembers. It is uncanny how sharp his memory still is dating back to the 1940's and 1950's.....just don't ask him to get a diet coke from the fridge downstairs as it may take him 3 tries to get it. Fifty years, no problem. Five minutes, big problem. Classic Alzheimer's, stealing his brain like a thief in the night, one plaque at a time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Waving the white flag.<br />
<br />
Trying to communicate WB's needs is exhausting as they change daily. We still have good days, we still have great days and some days are so 'off the wall' it is impossible to describe, so we rarely try. Totally subjective perhaps? "Read the blog", we say. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And the blog has taken on a life of its own. First friends and family followed, then others with the same white elephant in the room. Next came universities, hospitals and government agencies. From all over the world, readers are coming. This little rag has been picked up by Google and is being spread around the free Medical sites touted as 'best reads'. There are more and more invites to contribute to forums and I accept them. At this many years in, I suppose there really is a lot that I can offer.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3aFPukduvYw/TjOIAIiJ8dI/AAAAAAAAAxA/Zvc1QfppnyM/s1600/LoungeChairsOnBeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3aFPukduvYw/TjOIAIiJ8dI/AAAAAAAAAxA/Zvc1QfppnyM/s400/LoungeChairsOnBeach.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Surrender. We are taking WB back to the beach.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But the criteria is tough. Directly on the beach (expensive), little to no stairs or elevators (condo). So we need a house directly on the beach with no stairs at a bargain. We have to be able to see him and he has to see us or the train will leave the station. After many weeks of scratching and searching, it just fell out of the sky. Perfect location, perfect set-up and perfect price tag.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The girls (Kate, Taylor Paige, Meg) are on the prowl for the perfect tan and my stress-induced psoriasis could use the saltwater. And WB, well he could use the exercise. We cannot be sure if he will enjoy it, but I do know he will make me stop at the scuppernong patch to see his old friend, he will ask that I take the same back roads he traveled as a boy with his family, he will want me to play Kid Rock on the CD player, he will tell us again the stories about childhood summers spent on the same stretch of coastline.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Quiet please, we are not leaving until some time next week. But you cannot mention a word of this to him ~ else he'll be waiting in the passenger seat tomorrow morning with his Costa del Mar's on thinking we may leave without him.</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><i>My name is Rhonda Brantley and my husband, Billy Ray Brantley, suffers from Early Onset Alzheimer's Dementia. This is the best shot we have at documenting daily living.</i></div>rhondabrantleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680946550582484264noreply@blogger.com2