My Friend has lost most if not all of his cognitive abilities, although he tries hard to hide it. They are both very forgetful. Now his partner is losing his cognitive abilities also.
When they panic because a renewal notice comes in from Sam's Club, I know it's time to act.
But what to do? I'm not a family member. And to be perfectly truthful, I'm not a caregiver type. It just isn't my personality. During my Mother's long descent into her mental and physical shut down, both of my brothers took care of her. They did an excellent job. I am proud of them. But I felt guilt because I didn't do more myself. I'm in the same situation now.
I cannot escape the feeling that I have a responsibility to do something. My Friend is the reason I moved to Delaware. He is one of my longest, and oldest living friend except for some former classmates I still have as friends. Although we cannot share our life as we did before when he had his mental facilities about him, I still feel a responsibility to do something.
Today I did something. I called my Friend to ask him for his nephew's phone number. I had never talked to his nephew before but I felt it was time to notify a family member of my Friend's situation. The excuse I gave to my Friend for asking him for his nephew's phone number was I needed a number of one of his family members in case either one of them was in an accident. He fell for my excuse.
I called his nephew. His nephew knew who I was. This was a good beginning.
I informed my Friend's nephew about my concern and asked him if he was aware of his uncle's deteriorating mental and physical state. He said he was. He said his mother (my friend's older sister) has the same situation: the onset of dementia and Parkinson's disease. I was relieved, I didn't have to convince him.
I told my Friend's nephew that I would continue to monitor the situation and inform him of any change for the worse (which will eventually happen.) I remember what my brother said when my Mom started to go downhill. He said "Ronnie, I don't want to make you feel bad but it's not going to get any better. It only gets worse over time." And he was right. He should know, he is the care pastor of his church. My Friend is not going to get better. It's not a question of if but a question of when.
We exchanged phone numbers. I sent e-mails to members of my Friend's church who are also helping both of them with the increasingly daily crises of their day to day living functions.
We all want to keep my Friend and his partner in their home, living on their own as long as possible. But we have to face the inevitable. At some point one or both of them will have to go into some kind of assisted care facility.
That is a day I am dreading.
This is my Friend.