How I Dealt With My Contentious Loved One With Alzheimer's

People with Alzheimer's disease sometimes have personality changes that can be quite negative. Formerly sweet loved ones can become argumentative and verbally, emotionally or even physically abusive.

Things had gotten so bad I wanted to end my relationship with Ed, my Romanian soul mate of 25 years. He had become impossible to be around. He was incredibly irritable, angry, mean and emotionally abusive. What's more, he was making scenes in public on a regular basis, which was immensely embarrassing.

Plus, although he had always liked his beer, wine and hard liquor, he had begun drinking prodigious quantities of them. He began drinking before noon and he drank into the wee hours of the morning while waiting for his New York Times, which arrived around 3 a.m.

Then, he started falling frequently. I had to take him to the emergency room more than once. I suspected his drinking was not only causing these falls, it was also contributing to his depression and belligerence. But I couldn't convince him to drink less.

I loved Ed, but I just didn't think I could tolerate it anymore. Yet, I couldn't possibly end our relationship, either. First, because I loved him too much. Second, it would have been morally reprehensible. He couldn't have gotten along on his own for even one day.

Furthermore, he was often really confused. One Saturday evening he actually called the New York Times and yelled at them because he hadn't yet r-r-received his Sunday paper. When I reminded him it was Saturday, he got angry.

He got angry over the smallest things. Before that, we had been able to discuss things we disagreed about, but if I expressed a contrary opinion then, he became hostile.

In a last-ditch effort to save the relationship, I called a friend of mine who was a geriatric social worker and asked her for advice on what to do with this angry, aggressive, antagonistic Romanian.

The first thing she told me was that she thought he might have dementia.

"Dementia?" I repeated, immediately dismissing the notion. "Well, I don't care what it is. I just don't know how much longer I can take it."

I didn't want to hear about or think about dementia.

Here's the advice she gave me:

1. Don't bring up topics you think may upset him or lead to a disagreement.

2. If he starts to get agitated, abruptly change the subject.

3. Don't argue with him. Agree with everything he says, no matter how absurd.

She said she couldn't promise following those rules would stop all the fights, but she said it would help. She advised me to try it for a while and see what happened.

I protested, saying I couldn't agree with him when he said stupid things.

"When that happens," she said, just ask yourself, 'Do I want to be right or do I want to have peace?'"

I resisted at first, especially with item number three. I was stubborn and didn't want to agree with some of the nonsensical things Ed said -- such as that I'd promised to do an errand for him when I hadn't.

In addition, not only did I find some of these approaches very difficult, I kept forgetting them.

Nonetheless, when I finally mastered all three strategies, the results were dramatic. The number of nasty arguments decreased significantly and our closeness returned to its former state, which was a blessing after so many months of constant unbearable bickering.

And that's how it came to be that as Ed became more demented, I agreed with him about more and more. Important things, unimportant things; political issues and mundane day-to-day issues; silly things and serious things.

As many people with dementia do, he soon began mixing up day and night. One afternoon, when he woke up disoriented after a nap, I agreed with him that it was the middle of the night. Late one evening a few weeks later, I agreed with him that it was noon when it was actually 7 p.m..

Although this whole plan seemed ridiculous at first, I found that it did stop most of our nasty fights. It was definitely worth the effort and sacrifice to have the warmth, peace and tranquility between us restored.

So, the next time you find yourself ready to argue with your loved one with Alzheimer's disease, ask yourself, "Do I want to be right or do I want to have peace?"