This post isn't really about drinking. It's about the tiny things that make caregivers feel completely irrational. The things that aren't tragic enough to cry about. Not serious enough to call the neurologist about. Not important enough to explain to anyone. But somehow... they're the things that make you want to scream.

🥊 Apparently, I Picked Lunch as My Battle One of the biggest lessons Alzheimer's has taught me is that you have to let things go. You can't correct everything. You can't get angry over every mistake. You can't spend the entire day fighting battles that don't matter. Most days, I manage that pretty well. But today, apparently, I decided a container of leftovers was the hill I was willing to die on. Was it worth it?

One of the biggest losses in Alzheimer's isn't always the person with the diagnosis. Sometimes... It's the caregiver. No one warns you that somewhere between the neurologist appointments, medication schedules, insurance forms, doctor visits, and sleepless nights..

⚽ Wait. Why Are We Here? The first half of the game went by fairly well. But as it progressed, I could see Rob slowly losing interest. He couldn't really follow what was happening on the field anymore. He wasn't sure where our daughter was. Now, keep in mind, she plays goalie.

I'm just here today to tell you something. You can do hard things. And I don't necessarily mean the big emotional Alzheimer's things. We already know we're doing those. I'm talking about the random shit you never thought you'd have to learn because, if you're a 55-year-old Gen X woman like me, there were probably certain things in your house that you classified as:

He looked incredibly sad. He walked over and just stood next to my desk. He was trying to tell me something, but he was talking quickly and the words weren't coming together very well. We're Stage 5 now. His aphasia can make it difficult for him to explain something complicated, so I've learned to slow everything down.