In 2001 when we brought my sister to South Texas so we (her son and his wife, mom, my husband, and me) could help care for her and try to figure out what was going on with her. Initially she was living with her son and his wife.
As the holidays approached, one doctor put Patsy on Aricept. Soon after, she took a bottle of pills one day when the kids were at work. She called me and told me what she had done. I asked her why she took the pills and she said she didn't know why. She was hysterical, screaming and crying.
The hospital transferred her to a private psychiatric facility for evaluation. This facility was a joke. They didn't want to deal with her because she had no money for treatment. At this stage, Patsy could still talk and was very good at covering many of the symptoms for short periods of time. However, if you spent any length of time with her, you would see the odd behaviors. They called us all in for a meeting, and after telling us all we were sorry examples for human beings because we couldn't care for her...they released her to a Salvation Army store. We of course went over to gather her up and bring her home.
The scary thing here is, if she had no family, she would have become a street person. Makes you wonder about those poor people out there on the streets that may be ill and their families have all been pushed away.
At this point, she would wander aimlessly and leave the house if you weren’t watching every move. She would walk in on us in our bedroom, walk out the front door, yell and throw a fit if we didn’t drive her to the right store or park in the right parking spot….you get the idea.
We actually were a bit afraid. I remember having thoughts that she might grab a knife and come after us. Seems so odd now when I look back on it. She had turned into someone I didn’t know and the doctors were no help.