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Yesterday I wrote about the worst case of Alzheimer's I ever saw. This morning my Aunt Mary phoned. Her husband Bob has Alzheimer's. He's not one of those who are combative or noisy. She has to watch him or he'll wander out of the house. And he doesn't recognize his wife, and frequently asks her "Who are you?"
Not recognizing her makes him paranoid and suspicious, and makes caring for him difficult. Aunt Mary asked me why his feet were so blue, and why would he be running a fever? He also won't eat or drink. When she takes him to the doctor, she is frustrated by lack of even palliative care offered--he is old, he has Alzheimer's--it's like why bother? All I can do is listen.
Then my daughter phoned--bad news. A week ago she took her beloved mini Schnauzer to a pet grooming place. After she got him home her dog began to lose the use of its legs. She took him to the vet twice--first time the dog was given a shot of cortisone. Second time was X-rayed--there was a fracture in his neck vertebra.
The dog lost control of its bowels and bladder. Today, weeping, her "baby" was put down. Before she had him put to sleep, she took her baby by the dog groomer's and talked to the owner and the groomer and showed them what had happened to her baby after he had left their place of business. They denied any culpability.
I think the groomer leashed the neck and maybe the dog fell off the table. SOMETHING happened at the groomer's. Again all I could do was listen and sympathize--and offer advice-- I think she oughta take them to small claims court, but that probably won't happen.
Ready for good news, Susil.
