Nothing frustrates me more than to hear those who are caregivers for someone with FTD start to complain about the one they are caring for. This is especially true when I realize that the caregiver has no clue what to expect from someone with FTD. While no two cases of FTD seems to be the same, there are some basics that would be easy to learn about by doing just a tiny bit of research. I cannot imagine being responsible to care for someone with a disease and not reading up on it so I would know what to expect.
Today, I read something where a caregiver was complaining because the person they were caring for didn't do anything, spends too much time in bed and on the couch, won't run errands or make household repairs. People who have FTD tend to sleep and/or rest a lot. It takes an extraordinary amount of energy to exist with this disease. You know that exhausted feeling you get when you had a bad day at work trying to figure out the solution to problems that kept arising? You get home from work feeling like you had just done ten hours of hard physical labor. With FTD, you have this constantly. Remember me talking so often about the loss of executive functioning? That loss comes into play here. Every little task becomes like those problems you needed to resolve at work. A simple task. that we used to do by rote but now must be broken into itty-bitty pieces in order to accomplish anything, exhausts the functioning parts of the brain and easily results in overload. That quick fifteen minute trip to a store is long enough to cause sensory overload that wears out the brain and the body.
I can no longer clean my house in one day. I am lucky if I can clean an entire room in one day. I have to remember where the cleaning supplies are. Now, if they were all in one place, that might help, but that is a story for another day. They I have to try to remember which products to use where. I have to remember not to use window cleaner on the wood furniture or the furniture polish on the window. Yes, I have done both. Remembering how the vacuum cleaner gets turned on and how to vacuum the room while getting around the furniture can be a puzzle. Uh-oh, someone just asked me a question that I must strain my mind to answer, now I have to start figuring out the cleaning puzzle all over again. When I have finished, if I can finish, that one room, I am exhausted... mentally and physically. Hopefully you can grasp how this works. Apparently a lot of caregivers cannot. "Simple" household repairs don't exist anymore. They are now a major task.
I am in bed at night for nearly 12 hours each nigh. I don't sleep all 12 because my brain doesn't turn off very quickly. Hopefully, out of those 12 hours, I can get seven or eight hours of real sleep. I often wake up in the morning feeling more tired than I did when I went to bed. I cannot say for sure, but I suspect some of that may be due to the bizarre dreams I experience since the onset of FTD. I don't often tell people how long I stay in bed at night or I will get very judgmental reactions.
In addition, on a day that I do, or attempt to do, a physical task or something that causes sensory overload, I will need to either take a nap or retreat to my quiet place for a couple hours to recharge.
It can be very "simple" things that trigger my sensory overload or mental exhaustion. It can be walking outside to do something, especially in the yard, because I have to focus on my balance and trying not to fall in addition to the task I went out to do. Even using my cane does not help much on uneven ground. It can be someone stopping by the house or even a phone call. Those things usually involve me trying to fit together the puzzle pieces of what they are talking about and coming up with answers. This is especially true if it involves a stressful or upsetting subject. I could go on and on with examples.
The bottom line here is that if you look up FTD on the internet, you are going to quickly learn about the loss of executive functioning, the struggle to do simple tasks, the difficulty making decisions, making poor decisions, loss of balance and many, many more. I wonder if someone suddenly became the caretaker of someone with diabetes or cancer, would they not try to read up on how to best care for that person? So why would someone not do that when they are caring for someone with a brain disease.
Perhaps it is just as simple as the people who don't believe we don't have a disease because "You look wonderful." or "You don't look sick at all." Others don't believe there is anything wrong with your brain until you lose your memory. I get very frustrated, and sometimes angry, when friends, family and acquaintances say things like this because I feel they are thinking I have a mental illness or am a hypochondriac. I don't expect these people to research FTD (though I wish everyone would learn about it) so I can understand how they are reluctant to accept my diagnosis. But for a caregiver? To me this is unforgivable.
Every time I hear or read about a caretaker who has obviously not learned about FTD, I am thankful that I don't have to deal with that ignorance. I am fortunate that my family, and a small handful of friends, care enough that they have learned about the disease. I cannot imagine having to live with someone who has not.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Father's Day
This blog is not really about FTD, but since it is weighing on my mind today and I have FTD, I am going to write about it anyway. Some of us with FTD can appear selfish anyway, so today I will be. Before I am finished, I will get to a connection with FTD.
Today is Father's Day. I could not figure out why this year, more than 20 years after his death, why it was hitting me so hard. That was when I remembered it was also his birthday. It would have been 83.
My dad did not have FTD nor dementia of any type. He did however have a brain tumor. Despite what some members of my family insist, it was a benign tumor, but it kept growing. Years before his death, he received radiation treatments that shrunk the tumor enough that it relieved the pressure and the symptoms. He refused surgery, even though the tumor was operable, because he could not be given a 100% guarantee that it would be successful and he could not accept any of the possible outcomes should it be less than a complete success. Are you getting the idea that he was just a tad stubborn? You would be right, but it was a whole lot more than a tad!
Ten years or so after the radiation treatments, the tumor regrew enough that the symptoms returned. He became clumsy, needing to walk with a walking stick, had great difficulty making decisions and constantly worried about things. Hmmm... does sound a lot like FTD, doesn't it? Amazing how so many brain diseases can mimic each other.
He would not discuss nor consider receiving treatment again. He decided to sell the old family home and move into a townhouse. I spent a week at his place, helping to organize and pack. He was relying on me for a lot of things by then even though I was living four hours away. He would call and talk just about everything over with me before making a decision. He began calling me "crutch" because he couldn't seem to do anything without my help or support.
It worked both ways though. I would do the same. I would call and talk things over with him all the time. He was the only one who would tell me like it was, no coddling, yet still gentle, wise and helpful. He would also drop everything and come for a visit when I needed some things done around the house.
On my birthday, 22 years ago, my father took his own life. He could no longer accept living with the effects of the brain tumor. I was angry for a long time because I knew he could have received treatments or surgery, angry that, now that we had such a close and wonderful relationship, he left me.
My dad was not always this considerate, affectionate and supportive man. I lived a life with two fathers. The first one was extremely controlling, critical, unyielding and demanding. He was verbally abusive to my mother and verbally and physically abusive to my sister and me. He made our lives miserable. My mother left us the summer before my senior year of high school, not offering to take my sister or me with her. That made things every worse. My sister was off to nursing school, so I was the only one for him to take everything out on. I moved out of his house the day before high school graduation and didn't look back.
Even though no longer living with him, he still managed to be judgmental and critical of me and my life. A year or so after moving out, I was hospitalized and was facing major surgery at the age of 18. He came to visit me the evening before the surgery. I worked at the same hospital and, of course had many friends there. One stopped by while he was there. My friend was ten years older than me and, yes, we had gone out on a few dates but we were more friends than anything else. My dad was very cold to him and lectured me for 15 minutes after he had left. Criticizing me for having someone that much older than me in my life and how he obviously only wanted me for sex. Uh, no... we hadn't gone there. Not a good thing, to upset your daughter so much the evening before major surgery.
A couple days after my surgery, I learned that his girlfriend had waited in the car while he had visited with and lectured me about having a friend so much older. Turned out that his girlfriend was one of my classmates. I guess he was transferring his feeling for her over to my relationship with my friend. It was after that when I closed my dad out of my life as much as possible for eight years.
When our daughter was born, I decided they deserved to know each other and that I would give him a chance. Turned out that I now had a totally different father. He adored my daughter and she adored him. He was now the supportive and loving man that I wished I had had all along. It was at this time that our wonderful relationship became to flourish. He and I talked all night one night while he was visiting and he apologized for the way he had been. He said to me "Why, when I had you out shooting, did you not just aim at me before pulling the trigger?" He had watched a made-for-tv movie about the Melendez brothers who killed their parents who were not nearly as bad as he was and it hit home. I explained that I was so desperate for his approval that I could not have done that.
My second dad was an amazing man and I am so thankful that I had those later years with him. He and my sister never connected on the level that he and I had in these later years, so she only ever had the first dad. I wish they could have known each other.
Now, I will relate this lengthy story back to FTD. Now, after dealing with FTD for several years, I understand his decision to take his own life. He was a proud man who was a true jack-of-all-trades and lived an active, mostly outdoors, lifestyle. To become the man that the tumor was reducing him to was not something he could live with. He knew I would continue being his crutch and would take care of him no matter how bad his health, but he could not live with that either. I forgave him for being the first dad and I eventually forgave him for leaving me.
Happy Father's Day and Happy Birthday, Dad... I miss you and I love you... always and forever.
Today is Father's Day. I could not figure out why this year, more than 20 years after his death, why it was hitting me so hard. That was when I remembered it was also his birthday. It would have been 83.
My dad did not have FTD nor dementia of any type. He did however have a brain tumor. Despite what some members of my family insist, it was a benign tumor, but it kept growing. Years before his death, he received radiation treatments that shrunk the tumor enough that it relieved the pressure and the symptoms. He refused surgery, even though the tumor was operable, because he could not be given a 100% guarantee that it would be successful and he could not accept any of the possible outcomes should it be less than a complete success. Are you getting the idea that he was just a tad stubborn? You would be right, but it was a whole lot more than a tad!
Ten years or so after the radiation treatments, the tumor regrew enough that the symptoms returned. He became clumsy, needing to walk with a walking stick, had great difficulty making decisions and constantly worried about things. Hmmm... does sound a lot like FTD, doesn't it? Amazing how so many brain diseases can mimic each other.
He would not discuss nor consider receiving treatment again. He decided to sell the old family home and move into a townhouse. I spent a week at his place, helping to organize and pack. He was relying on me for a lot of things by then even though I was living four hours away. He would call and talk just about everything over with me before making a decision. He began calling me "crutch" because he couldn't seem to do anything without my help or support.
It worked both ways though. I would do the same. I would call and talk things over with him all the time. He was the only one who would tell me like it was, no coddling, yet still gentle, wise and helpful. He would also drop everything and come for a visit when I needed some things done around the house.
On my birthday, 22 years ago, my father took his own life. He could no longer accept living with the effects of the brain tumor. I was angry for a long time because I knew he could have received treatments or surgery, angry that, now that we had such a close and wonderful relationship, he left me.
My dad was not always this considerate, affectionate and supportive man. I lived a life with two fathers. The first one was extremely controlling, critical, unyielding and demanding. He was verbally abusive to my mother and verbally and physically abusive to my sister and me. He made our lives miserable. My mother left us the summer before my senior year of high school, not offering to take my sister or me with her. That made things every worse. My sister was off to nursing school, so I was the only one for him to take everything out on. I moved out of his house the day before high school graduation and didn't look back.
Even though no longer living with him, he still managed to be judgmental and critical of me and my life. A year or so after moving out, I was hospitalized and was facing major surgery at the age of 18. He came to visit me the evening before the surgery. I worked at the same hospital and, of course had many friends there. One stopped by while he was there. My friend was ten years older than me and, yes, we had gone out on a few dates but we were more friends than anything else. My dad was very cold to him and lectured me for 15 minutes after he had left. Criticizing me for having someone that much older than me in my life and how he obviously only wanted me for sex. Uh, no... we hadn't gone there. Not a good thing, to upset your daughter so much the evening before major surgery.
A couple days after my surgery, I learned that his girlfriend had waited in the car while he had visited with and lectured me about having a friend so much older. Turned out that his girlfriend was one of my classmates. I guess he was transferring his feeling for her over to my relationship with my friend. It was after that when I closed my dad out of my life as much as possible for eight years.
When our daughter was born, I decided they deserved to know each other and that I would give him a chance. Turned out that I now had a totally different father. He adored my daughter and she adored him. He was now the supportive and loving man that I wished I had had all along. It was at this time that our wonderful relationship became to flourish. He and I talked all night one night while he was visiting and he apologized for the way he had been. He said to me "Why, when I had you out shooting, did you not just aim at me before pulling the trigger?" He had watched a made-for-tv movie about the Melendez brothers who killed their parents who were not nearly as bad as he was and it hit home. I explained that I was so desperate for his approval that I could not have done that.
My second dad was an amazing man and I am so thankful that I had those later years with him. He and my sister never connected on the level that he and I had in these later years, so she only ever had the first dad. I wish they could have known each other.
Now, I will relate this lengthy story back to FTD. Now, after dealing with FTD for several years, I understand his decision to take his own life. He was a proud man who was a true jack-of-all-trades and lived an active, mostly outdoors, lifestyle. To become the man that the tumor was reducing him to was not something he could live with. He knew I would continue being his crutch and would take care of him no matter how bad his health, but he could not live with that either. I forgave him for being the first dad and I eventually forgave him for leaving me.
Happy Father's Day and Happy Birthday, Dad... I miss you and I love you... always and forever.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Subgroups of FTD - bvFTD
I haven't written, for quite a while, on just what FTD is and the symptoms and different types.
There are many subgroups of FTD. All are related to the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. Not only are there a variety of subgroups but many, if not most, of those diagnosed with FTD have a combination of more than one. I call it alphabet soup. I know I have written previously that my diagnosis is officialy bvFTD with MND.
bvFTD seems to be one of the most common. Don't ask me to back that up with scientific proof. It is just that it comes up a lot. In many cases that I know of, the diagnosis of bvFTD is the first diagnosis and as other symptoms appear, more subgroups are added on. That is true in my case.
bvFTD used to be called Pick's Disease. More people seem to be aware of that name rather than the terminology of FTD. Whatever you call it doesn't matter. It is still devastating.
bvFTD causes changes in behavior and personality. Many who are affected show signs of losing their inhibitions, acting more impulsively, making inappropriate comments and many more. Losing inhibitions could include dressing inappropriately, making inappropriate comments and forgetting all manners that used to come naturally. Examples of the loss of impulse control can include making sudden purchases without thinking it through, such as "Can I afford this?" of "What will I do with this?" Making inappropriate comments is self explanatory. It ruins relationships, both family and friends, as it offends them or makes them uncomfortable to be around the person with FTD.
I skipped right over the loss of impulse control intentionally. To me, it is the most dangerous. It amazes me how often I, and many whom I talk with, grab hot pans out of the oven without remembering potholders, or trying to turnover sizzling bacon with the fingers. It can lead to walking out in front of cars or, if still driving, turning in front of another car because you know you want to be in the store across the street. This is what finally led to me turning in my keys. I was driving by myself, saw a local eatery and decided to pick up some dinner. I saw it, so I swung left into the parking lot. I forgot about checking to see if there were cars coming at me. There were, and many choice words were thrown at me. It truly could have caused a horrible accident.
It also often causes apathy. It takes away your motivation to do things, even every day activities. Some need to be reminded to attend to their hygiene or something as simple as not wearing the same clothes every day.
Tied in the the apathy is the loss of empathy. Someone who was always concerned about everyone else can become the total opposite. They can hear about bad things happening to people and react with a 'so what' attitude. It can also lead to avoiding interaction with people... family, friends, acquaintances and even strangers. It is often this loss of empathy to lead to withdrawing from previously enjoyed activities and being around other people.
One of the biggest changes is dietary. bvFTD can trigger a greatly increased craving for sweets and carbohydrates, binge eating and/or eating a meal very quickly. Obviously, this can lead to weight gain, but also to malnutrition.
One of the main symptoms discussed between doctors and patients is the loss of 'executive functioning' which is often the first visible sign that something is wrong. I explain executive functioning as trying to get your brain to think of more than one thing. Examples can include planning ahead, making decisions, learning new skills or being easily distracted. One of the examples I use is losing the inability to follow a recipe. Following the recipe includes organizing, planning ahead and focusing on more than one thing.
Another visible sign is the speech. You might detect changes in speech patterns, struggling to find correct words and/or struggling to get the words out. Your brain knows what it wants to say, but your mouth just won't cooperate. bvFTD can also cause someone to struggle understanding what other people are saying. It can also lead to forgetfulness. I will often be talking, and half way through the sentence come to an abrupt stop because I cannot remember what I was saying. I won't go into a list of other things that can be forgotten, such as names of people and things, what you normally do and on and on.
I will try to write about more of the subgroups in the next few weeks. Of course, I may not remember.
There are many subgroups of FTD. All are related to the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. Not only are there a variety of subgroups but many, if not most, of those diagnosed with FTD have a combination of more than one. I call it alphabet soup. I know I have written previously that my diagnosis is officialy bvFTD with MND.
bvFTD seems to be one of the most common. Don't ask me to back that up with scientific proof. It is just that it comes up a lot. In many cases that I know of, the diagnosis of bvFTD is the first diagnosis and as other symptoms appear, more subgroups are added on. That is true in my case.
bvFTD used to be called Pick's Disease. More people seem to be aware of that name rather than the terminology of FTD. Whatever you call it doesn't matter. It is still devastating.
bvFTD causes changes in behavior and personality. Many who are affected show signs of losing their inhibitions, acting more impulsively, making inappropriate comments and many more. Losing inhibitions could include dressing inappropriately, making inappropriate comments and forgetting all manners that used to come naturally. Examples of the loss of impulse control can include making sudden purchases without thinking it through, such as "Can I afford this?" of "What will I do with this?" Making inappropriate comments is self explanatory. It ruins relationships, both family and friends, as it offends them or makes them uncomfortable to be around the person with FTD.
I skipped right over the loss of impulse control intentionally. To me, it is the most dangerous. It amazes me how often I, and many whom I talk with, grab hot pans out of the oven without remembering potholders, or trying to turnover sizzling bacon with the fingers. It can lead to walking out in front of cars or, if still driving, turning in front of another car because you know you want to be in the store across the street. This is what finally led to me turning in my keys. I was driving by myself, saw a local eatery and decided to pick up some dinner. I saw it, so I swung left into the parking lot. I forgot about checking to see if there were cars coming at me. There were, and many choice words were thrown at me. It truly could have caused a horrible accident.
It also often causes apathy. It takes away your motivation to do things, even every day activities. Some need to be reminded to attend to their hygiene or something as simple as not wearing the same clothes every day.
Tied in the the apathy is the loss of empathy. Someone who was always concerned about everyone else can become the total opposite. They can hear about bad things happening to people and react with a 'so what' attitude. It can also lead to avoiding interaction with people... family, friends, acquaintances and even strangers. It is often this loss of empathy to lead to withdrawing from previously enjoyed activities and being around other people.
One of the biggest changes is dietary. bvFTD can trigger a greatly increased craving for sweets and carbohydrates, binge eating and/or eating a meal very quickly. Obviously, this can lead to weight gain, but also to malnutrition.
One of the main symptoms discussed between doctors and patients is the loss of 'executive functioning' which is often the first visible sign that something is wrong. I explain executive functioning as trying to get your brain to think of more than one thing. Examples can include planning ahead, making decisions, learning new skills or being easily distracted. One of the examples I use is losing the inability to follow a recipe. Following the recipe includes organizing, planning ahead and focusing on more than one thing.
Another visible sign is the speech. You might detect changes in speech patterns, struggling to find correct words and/or struggling to get the words out. Your brain knows what it wants to say, but your mouth just won't cooperate. bvFTD can also cause someone to struggle understanding what other people are saying. It can also lead to forgetfulness. I will often be talking, and half way through the sentence come to an abrupt stop because I cannot remember what I was saying. I won't go into a list of other things that can be forgotten, such as names of people and things, what you normally do and on and on.
I will try to write about more of the subgroups in the next few weeks. Of course, I may not remember.
Friday, June 3, 2016
Pets
Just the word "pet" conjures up soothing and calming thoughts, at least to me. Other things I think of are fun, playful and great company. The downside is I also think of walking, cleaning up poop and cleaning a litter box.
I am thinking of this today because a three friends lost their beloved pets this week. What can you say to them except that you understand, that you love them and, if you believe, will pray for them. Losing a pet leaves a huge void in a person's life. Anyone who is lucky enough to have a loving pet will understand my friends' grief. I still miss my loving cat, Schnookers even though it has been almost five years since we lost him. I still see him sometimes out of the corner of my eye. I still feel him jump up on my bed to snuggle.
I have had quite a few pets in my life, especially when my daughter was growing up. She brought home everything from a sugar glider to a corn snake. She had no fear of any creature. The only time I rejected one of her pets, it was a ferret. We discovered, very quickly, that I am highly allergic to ferrets.
Not counting her pets, I grew up with a dog and a couple cats. After leaving home, we almost always had a cat in our life. Schnookers, though, was special to me. I went through a fight with cancer, Hodgkin's Lymphoma about eight years ago. The battle lasted about six months and I won. During the treatments, I was sick a lot. My body did everything it could to get rid of the chemo and radiation. That cat was beside me the entire way. If I was lying in bed, he was lying there with me, with his head on the pillow next to mine. If I was kneeling over the toilet, he was sitting there with me. Even though, at that time, I was not the one caring for him, he chose to stay with me and offer comfort.
That's what our pets do for us. I always say that our pets are truly the ones who offer us unconditional love. When I was still working, when I came home after a particularly tough day, sitting down, reading the paper or having a cup of tea and he would settle on my lap, demanding nothing in return.
I even know of some people with FTD who have service dogs. They do anything from comforting, to helping with balance issues and, in one case, pulling a wheelchair. These animals go a step beyond... being a pet and a working dog. I can only imagine how close the two become.
As much as I crave the companionship, I will never have another pet. My beloved Schnookers was showing signs of being ill. After he died, a few people reminded me that the had mentioned that they had told me this. Thanks to FTD, it didn't truly register what they were saying. One said, "He is so thin." His breed of cat tends to be long and lean, so I thought it was a complement. I don't know what I thought the other times, but no one said that he looked sick and I should take him to the veterinarian. Not much room for subtlety for me.
I believe I let him down. If it had registered in my brain what the others were saying, if I had noticed myself how thin he was getting and taken him to the vet when it first started, maybe he could have been cured. I will never, ever, take on that responsibility on myself again.
I know how much comfort they can be and I have often mentioned to others that they consider a pet, but only if they are capable of providing the care the pet needs. I know that if he were still here with me, Schnookers would be an excellent caregiver for me. Wishful thinking, but I know he is happy that this week he gained a few friends in heaven.
I am thinking of this today because a three friends lost their beloved pets this week. What can you say to them except that you understand, that you love them and, if you believe, will pray for them. Losing a pet leaves a huge void in a person's life. Anyone who is lucky enough to have a loving pet will understand my friends' grief. I still miss my loving cat, Schnookers even though it has been almost five years since we lost him. I still see him sometimes out of the corner of my eye. I still feel him jump up on my bed to snuggle.
I have had quite a few pets in my life, especially when my daughter was growing up. She brought home everything from a sugar glider to a corn snake. She had no fear of any creature. The only time I rejected one of her pets, it was a ferret. We discovered, very quickly, that I am highly allergic to ferrets.
Not counting her pets, I grew up with a dog and a couple cats. After leaving home, we almost always had a cat in our life. Schnookers, though, was special to me. I went through a fight with cancer, Hodgkin's Lymphoma about eight years ago. The battle lasted about six months and I won. During the treatments, I was sick a lot. My body did everything it could to get rid of the chemo and radiation. That cat was beside me the entire way. If I was lying in bed, he was lying there with me, with his head on the pillow next to mine. If I was kneeling over the toilet, he was sitting there with me. Even though, at that time, I was not the one caring for him, he chose to stay with me and offer comfort.
That's what our pets do for us. I always say that our pets are truly the ones who offer us unconditional love. When I was still working, when I came home after a particularly tough day, sitting down, reading the paper or having a cup of tea and he would settle on my lap, demanding nothing in return.
I even know of some people with FTD who have service dogs. They do anything from comforting, to helping with balance issues and, in one case, pulling a wheelchair. These animals go a step beyond... being a pet and a working dog. I can only imagine how close the two become.
As much as I crave the companionship, I will never have another pet. My beloved Schnookers was showing signs of being ill. After he died, a few people reminded me that the had mentioned that they had told me this. Thanks to FTD, it didn't truly register what they were saying. One said, "He is so thin." His breed of cat tends to be long and lean, so I thought it was a complement. I don't know what I thought the other times, but no one said that he looked sick and I should take him to the veterinarian. Not much room for subtlety for me.
I believe I let him down. If it had registered in my brain what the others were saying, if I had noticed myself how thin he was getting and taken him to the vet when it first started, maybe he could have been cured. I will never, ever, take on that responsibility on myself again.
I know how much comfort they can be and I have often mentioned to others that they consider a pet, but only if they are capable of providing the care the pet needs. I know that if he were still here with me, Schnookers would be an excellent caregiver for me. Wishful thinking, but I know he is happy that this week he gained a few friends in heaven.
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