On Thu, 16 Nov 2006 10:49:53 -0500, "Robibnikoff"
<witchypoo@broomstick.com> wrote:

Hey, don't worry about it. I'm just glad to know that YOU'RE not going
out
of YOUR mind. It definitely sounds like your friend has the beginning of
Alzheimers. I've been dealing with that in my mother. It's not easy.
She's been seeing this gentleman since May and keeps forgetting who he is!
I guess that's one way to keep a relationship alive <sigh> And then she
thinks there are like 6 of them and they all have the same name, look
alike
etc., etc. It's EXTREMELY frustrating. I lost it on her the other day
and
told her that there are NOT 6 of them, there's only one, there's something
wrong with her memory and I need to get her to a doctor for this.
Needless
to say, she freaked out, said it was everyone else who had a problem with
their memory and basically hung up on me. I felt terrible and wished I'd
kept my mouth shut, but then realized that she probably wouldn't remember
that we'd even had the conversation by the next day anyway.

Its scary.
And extremely difficult to deal with.
Its one of the saddest things that can happen to a human being.
I had a great grandmother once who sat at the window in our house
nowhere near the Mississippi river and watched riverboats.
There were lots of times she thought she was a child again and she
once fell from a corner cabinet trying to climb up to the bed in the
attic that she slept in when she was a girl.
I'm hoping thats not what is happening to this guy but I'm afraid it
is.
Hang in there.

Do you think a support group might help you cope?

Robibnikoff wrote:

Hey, don't worry about it. I'm just glad to know that YOU'RE not going
out
of YOUR mind. It definitely sounds like your friend has the beginning of
Alzheimers. I've been dealing with that in my mother. It's not easy.
She's been seeing this gentleman since May and keeps forgetting who he
is!
I guess that's one way to keep a relationship alive <sigh> And then she
thinks there are like 6 of them and they all have the same name, look
alike
etc., etc. It's EXTREMELY frustrating. I lost it on her the other day
and
told her that there are NOT 6 of them, there's only one, there's
something
wrong with her memory and I need to get her to a doctor for this.
Needless
to say, she freaked out, said it was everyone else who had a problem with
their memory and basically hung up on me. I felt terrible and wished I'd
kept my mouth shut, but then realized that she probably wouldn't remember
that we'd even had the conversation by the next day anyway.

I've just spent three years taking care of my Mom, who had rapidly
advancing Alzheimer's (she died about a year ago). Both my Grandmothers
had it, and I recognized early on that she was getting it too, so I had
her live with me. I think there are phases they go through, the first
one is fear, then comes the anger and paranoia. By the time the full
fledged anger comes they don't know that there's anything wrong with
them. My Mom, all 92 pounds of her, pulled a kitchen knife in me three
different times because I didn't understand what she was telling me. I
wasn't mean to her, why would I be, but when she would say something
like "I left my arm in the sink" and I would say "Pardon?" she would
fly into a rage. It was something wrong with me, not her. Even my Dad's
mother, one of the sweetest people I've ever known, went through this
stage. The next phase is kinda funny if it weren't so sad. It's the
uninhibited craziness phase. My Mom's mother I actually liked the most
when she reached this state. She liked to dress inside out, with her
underwear on the outside, and finally had a sense of humour. She once
managed to get out of the house, catch a taxi to the airport, and fly
to Vancouver Island. We had no idea where she was until the airport
called asking if we knew her. Thankfully I had the health care unit
coming in every day to look after my own Mom and monitor her while I
was at work. I am grateful for our nationalized health care. When they
told me it was time for a rest home, I put her in there for the final
phase. The final phase is a fey dreamlike state, and very childlike,
and totally removed from reality. When I see these little old ladies
stumbling around all alone in my neighbourhood I get really choked up
these days.

Robibnikoff wrote:

<atheist@home.com> wrote in message
news:bfenl21u0k3k8rqp704l68fkhghhjf5kv9@4ax.com...

On Wed, 15 Nov 2006 18:05:54 GMT, "Mike Painter"
<mddotpainter@sbcglobal.net> wrote:

I thought this would be a quote from Blazing Saddles.

Nah, just a pissed rant.
The Platters have always been my favorite group and I sent the video
to a friend I have known for years who like me is something of a
musician.
I've never heard the guy so much as utter a racist comment or a curse
word in fact, but I was on the phone with him about the video and he
unloaded with some of the worst trash I've heard in years.
Obscene stuff about the female singer and black females in general
including underage girls.
He referred to my neighbor as that "black boy across the street" and
asked if I had ever "fucked" his daughters.
I've known these people for years and we are like family.
I was pretty well fuming when I got off the phone but later when I
calmed down I realized the whole thing was very much out of character
for him.
He's approaching his mid to late seventies and his mother died of
Alzheimers a few years ago.
I called him back today and he recalls getting the video and said it
brings back really fond memories but he doesn't remember our previous
conversation.
I'm glad he doesn't remember me going off on him and am embarrassed
that I didn't pick up on what may be happening on the front end.
His son is the only relative he has here and I haven't been able to
get in touch with him.
At any rate I hate racist garbage and sort of overreacted.
I was being cynical about how it used to be in the south during Jim
Crow.
Anyway I wish I had not posted it.

Hey, don't worry about it. I'm just glad to know that YOU'RE not going out
of YOUR mind. It definitely sounds like your friend has the beginning of
Alzheimers. I've been dealing with that in my mother. It's not easy.
She's been seeing this gentleman since May and keeps forgetting who he is!
I guess that's one way to keep a relationship alive <sigh> And then she
thinks there are like 6 of them and they all have the same name, look alike
etc., etc. It's EXTREMELY frustrating. I lost it on her the other day and
told her that there are NOT 6 of them, there's only one, there's something
wrong with her memory and I need to get her to a doctor for this. Needless
to say, she freaked out, said it was everyone else who had a problem with
their memory and basically hung up on me. I felt terrible and wished I'd
kept my mouth shut, but then realized that she probably wouldn't remember
that we'd even had the conversation by the next day anyway.

I've just spent three years taking care of my Mom, who had rapidly
advancing Alzheimer's (she died about a year ago). Both my Grandmothers
had it, and I recognized early on that she was getting it too, so I had
her live with me. I think there are phases they go through, the first
one is fear, then comes the anger and paranoia. By the time the full
fledged anger comes they don't know that there's anything wrong with
them. My Mom, all 92 pounds of her, pulled a kitchen knife in me three
different times because I didn't understand what she was telling me. I
wasn't mean to her, why would I be, but when she would say something
like "I left my arm in the sink" and I would say "Pardon?" she would
fly into a rage. It was something wrong with me, not her. Even my Dad's
mother, one of the sweetest people I've ever known, went through this
stage. The next phase is kinda funny if it weren't so sad. It's the
uninhibited craziness phase. My Mom's mother I actually liked the most
when she reached this state. She liked to dress inside out, with her
underwear on the outside, and finally had a sense of humour. She once
managed to get out of the house, catch a taxi to the airport, and fly
to Vancouver Island. We had no idea where she was until the airport
called asking if we knew her. Thankfully I had the health care unit
coming in every day to look after my own Mom and monitor her while I
was at work. I am grateful for our nationalized health care. When they
told me it was time for a rest home, I put her in there for the final
phase. The final phase is a fey dreamlike state, and very childlike,
and totally removed from reality. When I see these little old ladies
stumbling around all alone in my neighbourhood I get really choked up
these days.