Dementia Diary – Chapter 110

The ‘What-If’s’… Of Life

There are people who love to prepare for every eventuality. I am not one of them. There are important issues which one must face when caring for a loved one with dementia…but it is truly impossible to think of all the things that can actually go wrong!

A great deal of suppressed stress in the early years of caring, ended up with my having panic attacks which occurred when I was sleeping. My very real concern was that if I should fall ill and be taken to hospital, what would happen to Hubby? In those years we lived alone as I scorned the idea of hiring a live-in as I would have to give up our privacy. I avoided the only solution, until I had no choice. As one who has actually accepted that not everything is in our control (Let me rephrase that please – almost nothing is actually within our control), I have given up the fight and have learned to go with the flow.

This evening’s experience has possibly caused me to reconsider my attitude. An invitation to the wedding of dear friends’ daughter was not to be ignored. I knew I must go alone as hubby can no longer understand what is happening around him, and could not begin to manage the travel. It was a kind of “destination wedding.” It was not in South America, or Europe or on a beach in the Bahamas, but rather in Israel’s undeveloped lands which look over miles and miles of arid terrain, which is the beginning of the desert. The young couple thought this would be a most rustic and romantic place to say their vows, and I was oblivious to the location. Having been told not to wear high-heeled shoes might have been a wee hint, but I always wear flat shoes, even dressy ones. No problem! I actually had no idea where the wedding was being held, but the hosts were supplying a van so I did not need to bother with details. The van, which was to pick up ten guests near my home, never arrived. After waiting more than an hour for substitute transportation to be arranged, two friends and I lost patience and ordered a taxi through the Gett app. We told the driver that we were going near to a village nearby Maale Adumim. Just a hop, skip and a jump from there was this new wedding venue. The journey began. After thirty minutes driving, we were on roads with no other cars in sight. This was not good. There was a massive sign with a warning which said: “Israeli citizens – do NOT enter here.” That road went to the right, and we went to the left. I was not a happy camper. Within minutes, we ran out of paved road. Now the driver was not comfortable either. He exclaimed that he had no idea that we were going into this area, and had definitely under estimated his charges. I totally understood. I was trying to stay cool, but for the first time in the 20 plus years that I have lived in Israel, I found myself just a tad frightened.

What if our taxi was to be attacked by Bedouins or by Arab terrorists? It happens. One reads about it on the front page of the newspapers all too often. Who would care for Hubby if something should happen to me? There was not a human being in sight, but that would be perfect for a planned attack. I am definitely an idiot and should not have come. Why did I not think of the danger before? How could I have been so laissez-faire?

A vehicle coming in our direction kindly slowed down and our driver asked if we were going toward the wedding venue. Yes, indeed. It is only twenty minutes down the dirt road. Now we were all very uncomfortable. The unwelcoming terrain, laden with large rocks, dried growth, barren, with only donkeys to lift their heads as we drove by, made me regret my decision all the more.

We actually did arrive in time for the wedding. I adore the bride and the parents of the bride, so I was pleased that I had joined the celebration. Mostly I was relieved that we were all alive, and that my over-active imagination had not come to fruition.

The ride home, would be in the dark of night. The dirt road had no lighting. I was unwilling to return in a car with friends unless one of them was armed. No one thought to bring their guns to the wedding. Apparently, I was not the only one who did not assess the potential danger. I found a large van with which to join other attendees for the ride home from this G-d-forsaken location.

While on the van, I called Violet to see how the evening had gone while I was away. Did Hubby behave himself? Did he eat dinner? She responded as follows;

“Everything is okay now.”

What does that mean? I replied.

“Well, Mr. D. almost died. He choked on his food again, and I thought I was going to have to call the ambulance because he couldn’t breathe. But everything is okay now.”

I sat in the quiet van, again thinking of the “What if’s” What if she could not have dislodged the food? What if I had been at this wedding and he had died because I was not home? I had put my cellphone on airplane mode for the ceremony and forgot to open the phone afterwards. What if Violet had needed me, or heaven forbid, worse?

This is hardly the first time that hubby has choked on his food. He stuffs the food into his mouth before he has swallowed the last bite. We try to watch him like mother hawks, but it is impossible to control his behavior. He does what he wants and we do our best, which is apparently nowhere near good enough.

Once again, the reality of being totally responsible for another human being’s survival feels overwhelming. The only solution is that I give up my own life entirely, and the “what-if” scenario of what would be left of me would not be a pretty picture. No one can sacrifice to that extent. We are all left with the “What-ifs” of life, which is the human condition. That is life for us all.