One of the more baffling aspects of Tony’s Alzheimer’s disease has been the repetitive behaviors that have cropped up now that he is in the middle stages of the disease.
My husband was not one to have a lot of quirks before his diagnosis in 2015. Now, his behaviors can cause my emotions to range from mild amusement to exasperation, depending on the day.
I’ve written before about how he would hide his socks around the house. That, thankfully, has stopped. Unfortunately, he’s moved on to other things.
The other day I noticed that my barn coat was missing from where it hangs near the back door. Weird, I thought. When did he have time to do that?
I eventually found my coat in one of the places he used to hide his socks. Just this morning, he put on the barn coat, though it’s definitely a few sizes too small for him. I’m not sure what that was about, but it looks like I need to find a new home for the coat.
Then there’s his penchant for sitting next to me as I work on the computer. The chair he likes is an office chair that swivels. Tony will spin on it from side to side, kicking my chair each time to start himself in the other direction. Annoying? You bet, but I endure it because he isn’t causing any harm.
The same cannot be said of his current fixation with the cuffs on his favorite full-zip sweater. I’ve had to replace it a couple of times because he wears it every single day. Lately, however, he folds, unfolds and pulls on its sleeves, as well as the sleeves of the shirt underneath it, over and over and over again.
One day I noticed a massive hole under one of the armpits. Ugh. That meant another replacement sweater was required. My plan had been to try to repair the holey one and switch it out with the new one.
Well, that worked for only a few weeks before the new one developed a hole in a sleeve too.
What’s that definition of insanity? Doing the same thing repeatedly and hoping for a different outcome?
I thought maybe we’d have better luck if I could redirect his need to keep his hands busy with something meant to deal with fidgety fingers. So I went online and found three different toys to try.
One was a wooden toy that allows the user to move a piece of wood from one side to another on a spool. Tony seemed to like that one for a while, but he couldn’t figure out how to get the piece of wood to go in the opposite direction. So, I’d get it to the middle again and hand it back to him. This goes on for a few rounds before one of us gets tired of it and gives up. Usually not me.
A second one was like a piece of bubble wrap that makes that wonderful sound but does not need to be thrown out. Tony couldn’t figure that one out at all. Good thing I find it surprisingly soothing.
The third one was a wooden toy that could be manipulated into different shapes. I think I’m the one that changes its shape the most. Tony picks it up, looks at it and then puts it back down again.
That first wooden toy had the most promise until Tony decided to start hiding it all over the house. One time I found it in our bedroom, standing upright on a nightstand.
Then it disappeared. I looked and looked and looked. When I was looking for it in some of his old hiding spots, I found a pair of gloves he had hidden who knows when. I didn’t even know those were missing!
Eventually I found the toy under his chair. When it happened a second time, I moved the toy to a safer place.
Who knew that trying to get Tony a fidget toy would be as difficult as it used to be to get toys that our cats would play with? I never had much luck with that, either.
In the meantime, Tony has returned to playing with the cuffs of his sweater.
I seem to be tanking in my foray into Toyland. Then again, I did wind up with a couple of toys for myself.
• Joan Oliver is the former Northwest Herald assistant news editor. She has been associated with the Northwest Herald since 1990. She can be reached at jolivercolumn@gmail.com.
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