My Aunt’s world crumbled suddenly in May of 2007 when her husband suffered a severe stroke and eventually had to be institutionalized.  Until then all had been alright. She, 91, and her husband, 89, complemented each other; she was his eyes, his chauffeur and housekeeper, and he was the administrator and her memory. They bickered constantly, mostly about her forgetfulness and his bossiness. But these exchanges were just banter for them, terms of endearment. Lina went to pieces over her husband’s illness, and insisted on visiting him every day in hospital against everyone’s advice. On several occasions she became verbally aggressive at our suggestions to skip a day or two. So great was her obsession that she forgot to eat and to care for herself, her apartment was untidy and dirty, and worst of all she was confused and disoriented. When there was no one to drive her she traveled by taxi and often forgot where she was headed. We felt that she had been exploited by many a taxi driver.

That was the beginning of a horrible nightmare for all the family, especially for me, her principal caregiver. Before we were able to get Lina diagnosed and get her into the same facility as her husband, I spent many hours in doctors’ offices, meeting with social workers and with notaries, filling in mountains of paper work. Meanwhile, Lina went through several thousand dollars and was unable to account for much of it, made thousands of obsessive telephone calls, lost 21 lbs., and became totally dependent on family and friends for all of her needs. Wednesdays were “my days” to be “on duty”. Though we shopped for her and brought her meals, she more often than not forgot to eat. Caring for her financial and administrative needs was nothing compared to the anguish and worry we suffered, as all this time she adamantly refused any outside help.

The nightmare came to an end in December of that year, when she was admitted into the same facility as her husband. Those seven months had seemed like an eternity. Wednesdays are still my usual visiting days, but everything is much more pleasant now. My aunt never misses an opportunity to say “Thank you,” and to praise her family. She has regained her appetite and is safe and very well cared for. She still asks when she will go home, but does so with less insistence.