Alzheimer's Disease
Posted: Tue Mar 05, 2013 2:39 am
In 1961, my sister, Brenda, married a young man from Gonzalez, Florida. I was fourteen years old. Jimmie was more like the older brother I didn't have. He took me fishing on the Escambia River, White's River and the Perdido River. He knew them like the back of his hand and he knew how to catch fish in moving tidal waters and down in the salt marshes.
He took me to baseball games and company picnics.
He had started working for Chemstrand at age eighteen, right out of high school. Chemstrand later became Monsanto and then Solutia, Inc. He worked there for forty-one years and never called in sick, not once.
He had played football and baseball at Tate High School. He played baseball for Chemstrand/Monsanto and was very good. He played with a vengeance.
He coached youth football and baseball for several years.
Jimmie was really built. He had the perfect body and he somehow managed to keep it even though I have never known him to work out. He never belonged to a gym. The only piece of exercise equipment I've ever seen in their house was a seldom used treadmill.
He worked hard at his job and he worked hard on their property, which was close to two acres with both the houses they owned during fifty-one years of marriage.
Brenda and Jimmie lost their son, Scott, at age fourteen. They had three daughters, Sherrie, Vickie and Deitri. I don't think Jimmie ever really recovered from losing Scott.
Jimmie retired at sixtyfive.
He had begun experiencing the effects of Alzheimer's Disease about eleven years ago. He compensated for it at work by keeping detailed notes about his job and results. He kept lists of things to do.
Alzheimer's has, of course, been progressive. He gave up fishing because he became aware that sooner or later he'd not know how to get back to any of the several boat landings he utilized.
The last time we visited, he was friendly, conversant on many topics, as funny as always, but didn't have the faintest idea who I was. He never called me or Sarah or our son by name. He loved playing with our grandchildren. He never tired of getting down on the floor and playing with young children.
Last year, it got to the point that Brenda could not make him take his meds or keep him from attempting to drive. He would become frustrated and angry. She became a bit fearful of him because of his inordinant strength.
She put him in assisted living a few months ago. The first place made her move him to a different facility after he pushed another patient down after losing a board game.
He did better at the next. They specialized in Alzheimer's care.
About a month and a half ago, he began to lose weight. After about a month, he'd lost thirtyeight pounds. He got so weak, he could not stand or walk without falling, but he could still resist his care-givers. It would take six people to restrain him. They put a hospital bed in his room and brought in hospice nurses. He continued to lose weight, but they no longer weighed him.
I think he lost at least fifty - sixty pounds.
He died last Monday morning at 0300hrs, with Brenda at his side. He would have turned seventy-three later this month.
It broke my heart to see him like that. All that muscle mass and his prodigious strength reduced to a skeletal, almost unrecognizable person.
Below are a series of photos.
In the first, Jimmie is flexing his muscles for the camera. That picture was made a little over a year ago, before he went into assisted living. He was seventy-one years old at the time.
In the second, Jimmie is seated at the last facility in which he lived. That picture was made a few months ago. Notice that he still has his build, pretty much, though he looks a bit older in the face and he isn't smiling.
The next few photos were made two weeks, or so, ago and show Jimmie, Brenda and their middle daughter Vickie. Brenda and Vickie know he's dying and it shows on their faces.
It was forty-five days from the time he began losing weight until he died on Monday.
I never thought I'd see him looking less than the man's man he had always been.
Alzhemer's is an awful disease and we need to defeat it.
Rest Easy, Jimmie. I'll always love and miss you.
Charlie
He took me to baseball games and company picnics.
He had started working for Chemstrand at age eighteen, right out of high school. Chemstrand later became Monsanto and then Solutia, Inc. He worked there for forty-one years and never called in sick, not once.
He had played football and baseball at Tate High School. He played baseball for Chemstrand/Monsanto and was very good. He played with a vengeance.
He coached youth football and baseball for several years.
Jimmie was really built. He had the perfect body and he somehow managed to keep it even though I have never known him to work out. He never belonged to a gym. The only piece of exercise equipment I've ever seen in their house was a seldom used treadmill.
He worked hard at his job and he worked hard on their property, which was close to two acres with both the houses they owned during fifty-one years of marriage.
Brenda and Jimmie lost their son, Scott, at age fourteen. They had three daughters, Sherrie, Vickie and Deitri. I don't think Jimmie ever really recovered from losing Scott.
Jimmie retired at sixtyfive.
He had begun experiencing the effects of Alzheimer's Disease about eleven years ago. He compensated for it at work by keeping detailed notes about his job and results. He kept lists of things to do.
Alzheimer's has, of course, been progressive. He gave up fishing because he became aware that sooner or later he'd not know how to get back to any of the several boat landings he utilized.
The last time we visited, he was friendly, conversant on many topics, as funny as always, but didn't have the faintest idea who I was. He never called me or Sarah or our son by name. He loved playing with our grandchildren. He never tired of getting down on the floor and playing with young children.
Last year, it got to the point that Brenda could not make him take his meds or keep him from attempting to drive. He would become frustrated and angry. She became a bit fearful of him because of his inordinant strength.
She put him in assisted living a few months ago. The first place made her move him to a different facility after he pushed another patient down after losing a board game.
He did better at the next. They specialized in Alzheimer's care.
About a month and a half ago, he began to lose weight. After about a month, he'd lost thirtyeight pounds. He got so weak, he could not stand or walk without falling, but he could still resist his care-givers. It would take six people to restrain him. They put a hospital bed in his room and brought in hospice nurses. He continued to lose weight, but they no longer weighed him.
I think he lost at least fifty - sixty pounds.
He died last Monday morning at 0300hrs, with Brenda at his side. He would have turned seventy-three later this month.
It broke my heart to see him like that. All that muscle mass and his prodigious strength reduced to a skeletal, almost unrecognizable person.
Below are a series of photos.
In the first, Jimmie is flexing his muscles for the camera. That picture was made a little over a year ago, before he went into assisted living. He was seventy-one years old at the time.
In the second, Jimmie is seated at the last facility in which he lived. That picture was made a few months ago. Notice that he still has his build, pretty much, though he looks a bit older in the face and he isn't smiling.
The next few photos were made two weeks, or so, ago and show Jimmie, Brenda and their middle daughter Vickie. Brenda and Vickie know he's dying and it shows on their faces.
It was forty-five days from the time he began losing weight until he died on Monday.
I never thought I'd see him looking less than the man's man he had always been.
Alzhemer's is an awful disease and we need to defeat it.
Rest Easy, Jimmie. I'll always love and miss you.
Charlie
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