I watched as this disease stole my father, first from his children and then from my mother until I believe in one final moment of lucidity, he choose to end it all. He was in the hospital again for what was believed to be a minor stroke when he decided he would no longer eat or drink. Plugging him full of feed and fluid lines was not an option and we quietly accepted his “decision”. We moved to hospice and shortly after he left us for good. We mourned our loss but quietly gave thanks that his daily nightmare of waking in an unfamiliar place with people he couldn’t remember was over.
The doctors claimed his refusing to eat or drink was a result of the diseases’ progression and certainly it can lead there eventually but; his was an overnight change and to this day I believe his last conscious choice was to free himself and his family from our shared prison.