Cindy’s Need for People

Last night we dropped Charissa off at the airport where she will visit home and spend eight days with her boyfriend. I am a little apprehensive about how her absence will affect Cindy. A general rule out here as been the more the merrier for her, particularly with the daughter who “makes me happy.”

Studies and basic intuition confirms we all need people, that is no less true for those with Alzheimer’s. However, not all friendly interactions provide benefits; some even make a situation worse. Hopefully some insights here about Cindy’s need for people can help others.

Cindy has been a people person all her life. As a visiting nurse she endeared herself to the elderly; as a Girl Scout leader she endeared herself to children; as an Expedition Woman she endeared herself to most if not all of our backpacking friends. Cindy manifests her need of people now in being a herder. When it was just Charissa and I out here she could handle just one of us hiking with her occasionally. With Mike joining her entourage she gets concerned whenever I’m the only person hiking with her.

Cindy makes some puzzling comments, were it not for understanding her need to herd us together. She will say: “we need to turn around” or “this is not right” when we are missing the others. Of course, the more difficult the trail conditions the more likely she will miss any of us not being there.

Acceptable friendly interaction for Cindy is opposite of what you normally expect. She has no issues with our efforts to assist her with daily living tasks. Some of these tasks might otherwise comprise her dignity, but her mind finds a way to accept our help without reservation.

Camp chores draw a different reaction. Because the cold bothers Cindy we do our best to break camp as quickly as possible. This is problematic to begin with as I need to get both myself and Cindy ready sequentially, rather than concurrently, which takes more than twice the time. Doing everything else in a hurry means leaving Cindy out of the equation. Some might enjoy being waited on, but “standing on the sidelines,” even when we chat amiably with her, has been almost a daily cause of upsetting Cindy.

This hints at the fact that Cindy, even though she no longer realizes she has Alzheimer’s, is yet aware there is something wrong with her. Any type of negative social interaction becomes magnified in this context. Tone of voice laced with impatience, frustration, condescension or even fawning concern will lead to a melancholy mood. Being ignored similarly depresses her, no matter how jovial the people around her may be.

While Charissa is gone her loss will be mitigated by my old hiking buddy and best man Dave Beffa-Negrini (often called Savitt on this blog), along with his wife and good friend Patsy, for a four-day stretch in the Goat Rocks Wilderness. Savitt has one of the most infectious good natures of anyone I know, a prime reason why we made so many miles fly by hiking together in great fun. Hopefully their presence will be sufficient to satisfy Cindy’s herding instinct in our daughter’s temporary absence.