My next-door neighbor, Dieter, has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Some of you may recall my earlier posts about him. He's never had the firmest grasp on reality and this hasn't helped. Dieter was a member of the Hitler Youth during the Big One, but he seemed to naturalize into American society OK, immigrating at 12, going to American schools, and eventually becoming a productive engineer with a wife and cats and everything. Up until just a few years ago he was a great neighbor, but then he started drinking a lot and his behavior became, well, erratic.
Last week one of my other neighbors told me Dieter had come to her house and demanded she take him to the ER because he was confused. She called his wife who explained the diagnosis and the fact that if any of us took Dieter to the ER they'd have to admit him, resulting in a $1500 bill that insurance wouldn't pay.
Well, today, Dieter came to my door and made the same request. On his doctor's orders Dieter's wife Shirley had hidden his car keys. I explained that I couldn't do that and he asked me to call him a cab. I explained that I couldn't do that, either.
Dieter: "OK, I'll just go to every house until someone will call me a cab."
So I followed Dieter for an hour (on my gouty ankle) as he went to all the neighbors who were home (two of whom had just moved in and we hadn't met). I let Dieter make his request and then explained the situation to them. Everyone was real nice but it was pretty uncomfortable. But I've known the guy for 15 years and he wasn't always crazy so I couldn't just let him do that on his own, or tie him up...
Anyway, I finally got Dieter home where Shirley and I called the cab company (actually Mrs. G) who arranged for a cab, "although with today being their busiest it would be at least a couple of hours". Shirley talked Dieter into taking a tranquilizer and we hoped he'd settle down and forget the cab. I was the one needing meds at that point.
An hour ago I went to the store and saw my other neighbor, R, who asked me if I knew about Dieter. I shared my story and R explained that Dieter had come to his house and commenced to banging loudly on the door a little later. R came to the door and explained that Mrs. R kept a G22 in her purse and was just paranoid enough to fire a few rounds through the door if someone was pounding on it. OK, right?
Then, a little later the city police pull up in Dieter's driveway and escort him inside. Seems he'd walked the two miles to Chik-fil-A and was asking customers to take him to the ER. R asked the cops what to do and they said just to give them a call. They were very familiar with this and similar situations and would see no harm came to him or others. I owe DPD lunch.
So next week we're all off to find a nice Shady Acres for Dieter to spend some quiet time in. It would be funny if it weren't tragic, but I can't recall anything sadder than watching Shirley go door-to-door explaining to the neighbors what was up and asking them not to take Dieter to the ER or wherever he asked.
I can remember when Dieter was as rational as 1/2. He even climbed the Matterhorn once or twice. Until just a few years ago he was a world renown expert on precision miniature pumps. So we shouldn't take our hold on reality for granted. It can all go away like "poof".
R and I made a pact on the spot that we'd help each other if it came to it.
Last week one of my other neighbors told me Dieter had come to her house and demanded she take him to the ER because he was confused. She called his wife who explained the diagnosis and the fact that if any of us took Dieter to the ER they'd have to admit him, resulting in a $1500 bill that insurance wouldn't pay.
Well, today, Dieter came to my door and made the same request. On his doctor's orders Dieter's wife Shirley had hidden his car keys. I explained that I couldn't do that and he asked me to call him a cab. I explained that I couldn't do that, either.
Dieter: "OK, I'll just go to every house until someone will call me a cab."
So I followed Dieter for an hour (on my gouty ankle) as he went to all the neighbors who were home (two of whom had just moved in and we hadn't met). I let Dieter make his request and then explained the situation to them. Everyone was real nice but it was pretty uncomfortable. But I've known the guy for 15 years and he wasn't always crazy so I couldn't just let him do that on his own, or tie him up...
Anyway, I finally got Dieter home where Shirley and I called the cab company (actually Mrs. G) who arranged for a cab, "although with today being their busiest it would be at least a couple of hours". Shirley talked Dieter into taking a tranquilizer and we hoped he'd settle down and forget the cab. I was the one needing meds at that point.
An hour ago I went to the store and saw my other neighbor, R, who asked me if I knew about Dieter. I shared my story and R explained that Dieter had come to his house and commenced to banging loudly on the door a little later. R came to the door and explained that Mrs. R kept a G22 in her purse and was just paranoid enough to fire a few rounds through the door if someone was pounding on it. OK, right?
Then, a little later the city police pull up in Dieter's driveway and escort him inside. Seems he'd walked the two miles to Chik-fil-A and was asking customers to take him to the ER. R asked the cops what to do and they said just to give them a call. They were very familiar with this and similar situations and would see no harm came to him or others. I owe DPD lunch.
So next week we're all off to find a nice Shady Acres for Dieter to spend some quiet time in. It would be funny if it weren't tragic, but I can't recall anything sadder than watching Shirley go door-to-door explaining to the neighbors what was up and asking them not to take Dieter to the ER or wherever he asked.
I can remember when Dieter was as rational as 1/2. He even climbed the Matterhorn once or twice. Until just a few years ago he was a world renown expert on precision miniature pumps. So we shouldn't take our hold on reality for granted. It can all go away like "poof".
R and I made a pact on the spot that we'd help each other if it came to it.
Neighbor has Alzheimers
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