Act of Kindness
The most recent act of kindness I experienced was visiting Gabe Lawrence on Christmas Day. It may seem pretentious to so readily admit that, but it's true. Especially since he didn't recognize me this year. Dr. Lawrence was, is my mentor. Seeing him in such a state...it almost frightens me.
Back when he was first diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I promised to visit him if/when he entered a nursing home. In 2001, Gabe was placed in the Alzheimer's SCU in a nursing facility near the Rush Medical Center. The last time I spoke with his son, Gabe was still recieving outpatient treatment from the Alzheimer's clinic at Rush, and was being considered for the Huperzine-A Study. Nothing ever came of it, as far as I know.
I know Gabe's condition isn't supposed to be the point of this post. I suppose talking around everything makes it easier. Who knows.
Anyway...
Henry spent the afternoon with Sandy's family so that I could keep my yearly promise. When his son was taking care of him, I visited their home on a fairly regular basis. Then things got so difficult--my guess is that *Gabe* himself was a pain in the ass no matter his state of mind--that there was no other option than round-the-clock care.
Once he was placed in the facility, I visited less often. Far less. By now, my visits have been reduced to one per year--always on Christmas Day. I got word that his son rarely visits, and never on Christmas. I just couldn't bear the thought of him being alone--even if he doesn't know it.
This year he didn't know it. I suppose I held onto the naive notion that somehow he would always know me. I was forced to let go of that a few days ago. He was sitting in a recliner when I entered the room. The curtains were drawn so that the light streaming in from the hallway was the only source of lumination. I spoke to him--softly at first, in nearly the same tone I use when speaking to Henry--and he simply turned his head towards my voice. I spent two hours with him and that was the only movement I saw.
I spoke to him about Henry and Sandy. And Lisa. County, too. The new studies they're doing on Alzheimer's disease...anything and everything I could think of to fill the silence.
I'm writing this for the Act of Kindness challenge, yes, but I see it as more of an act of love than anything else. He was my mentor--almost a father figure. I figure an annual visit is the very least I can do for him.
Back when he was first diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I promised to visit him if/when he entered a nursing home. In 2001, Gabe was placed in the Alzheimer's SCU in a nursing facility near the Rush Medical Center. The last time I spoke with his son, Gabe was still recieving outpatient treatment from the Alzheimer's clinic at Rush, and was being considered for the Huperzine-A Study. Nothing ever came of it, as far as I know.
I know Gabe's condition isn't supposed to be the point of this post. I suppose talking around everything makes it easier. Who knows.
Anyway...
Henry spent the afternoon with Sandy's family so that I could keep my yearly promise. When his son was taking care of him, I visited their home on a fairly regular basis. Then things got so difficult--my guess is that *Gabe* himself was a pain in the ass no matter his state of mind--that there was no other option than round-the-clock care.
Once he was placed in the facility, I visited less often. Far less. By now, my visits have been reduced to one per year--always on Christmas Day. I got word that his son rarely visits, and never on Christmas. I just couldn't bear the thought of him being alone--even if he doesn't know it.
This year he didn't know it. I suppose I held onto the naive notion that somehow he would always know me. I was forced to let go of that a few days ago. He was sitting in a recliner when I entered the room. The curtains were drawn so that the light streaming in from the hallway was the only source of lumination. I spoke to him--softly at first, in nearly the same tone I use when speaking to Henry--and he simply turned his head towards my voice. I spent two hours with him and that was the only movement I saw.
I spoke to him about Henry and Sandy. And Lisa. County, too. The new studies they're doing on Alzheimer's disease...anything and everything I could think of to fill the silence.
I'm writing this for the Act of Kindness challenge, yes, but I see it as more of an act of love than anything else. He was my mentor--almost a father figure. I figure an annual visit is the very least I can do for him.