I Love The Smell of Rubber Gloves in The Morning
Bobby Don Saylor
I cannot tell you with any certainty when I suspected that my wife of 33 years, Shelley Lynne as she likes to be called, had developed Early Onset Dementia of the Alzheimer’s type. We received the life changing diagnosis in April, 2009, that my precious wife was on a one-stop train and that medical science could only attempt to slow the train down; it was unstoppable. Our daughters were to tell us later that they thought their mom had begun early onset about five years prior to the first medical assessment given. It was a hard pill to swallow.
We left the doctor’s office that day with dismay. How did we get to this point? It turns out I had been enabling Lynne for years as her illness progressed. We had overlooked the glaring indicators like her frequently getting lost and disoriented in the multi-story building where she worked when I was temporarily out of work the summer of 2006. We later moved to Colorado for a new job, not knowing that we were facing an overwhelming challenge—and it wasn’t what we’d do when I quit working one day. I was blessed there with an extremely supportive boss and a company that stood by me until my scheduled, pre-planned retirement.