From the AlzAuthors Blog: Meet Terri Anderson, Blogger at "The Caregivers Depot"

Sometimes the Caregiving Journey Chooses You

By Terri Anderson

There are several ways where people find themselves as a caregiver. Some by choice, some not. I didn’t choose the caregiving life. It chose me, but God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle. I thought to myself that I wasn’t up to the challenge, but I was. You see, my estranged father had a combination of Parkinson's and Alzheimer's and at the time, like many people, I wasn’t familiar with the disease.

My dad’s caregiver told me I “needed to see” my father. I remember him not knowing who I was and telling me that he had to “mow the grass.” As a child, my dad had the best-maintained yard in the neighborhood. His caregiver also said that he would “fight her,” and she could no longer care for him. He was placed in a nursing home and passed shortly thereafter. Knowing more about dementia now, I realize he was probably very combative. With nursing homes often short-staffed and nursing assistants overworked, I imagine they did not like caring for him.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Cofounder and Admin Vicki Tapia

Today's guest blogger is my good friend and AlzAuthors partner Vicki Tapia. We met through our books, and never in person, but work closely together to manage AlzAuthors blog. Here, Vicki tells us her dementia story. 

By Vicki Tapia

In 2004, both my parents were diagnosed with dementia, Dad with Parkinson’s-related dementia and Mom with moderate Alzheimer’s disease. Even though symptoms had become increasingly obvious by the time of diagnosis, hearing the words dementia and Alzheimer’s disease really knocked the wind out of my sails. We now faced the stark reality of terminal diagnoses.

Trained as a teacher and looking for answers, I sought information to describe what to expect and how to best navigate what lay ahead. I searched for books written from the family caregiver’s perspective, but found few, and none that actually proved very helpful. I could cry on my husband’s shoulder or unload my anxiety on a close friend only so often.

In a deviation from my usual handwritten journals, I began tapping away at my computer keyboard on a near daily basis. When I began writing about dementia, it was merely a vehicle to help me cope with family caregiving. My diary became the place I sought solace at the end of a long day. It didn’t talk back or demand anything of me. However, after a year or so of writing, an awareness slowly took shape inside my brain and I realized I was in the midst of writing a book. I began to recall memories of Mom’s dementia-like behavior from years previous and it amazed me how many recollections remained vivid in my mind. Scene after scene from both the past and present came alive on the computer screen.