For the planners among us, contingency plans come naturally. After all, one’s initial plan might run up against an obstacle. It’s usually a good idea to have a Plan B … just in case.
For caregivers, especially those who care for people with dementia, contingency plans are essential. And many times, it’s best to have more than simply a backup plan. Sometimes it requires Plans C, D and E, as well.
For instance, for most people, the act of getting a haircut is a mundane, routine endeavor. Depending on where and when you go, it’s a matter of make an appointment, show up for appointment, sit in the chair and walk away looking better.
This was what my beloved husband, Tony, had been able to do for himself for decades. In fact, he’d often not even bother to tell me when he was going. I just knew he’d had a haircut when he returned home.
Since his diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer’s disease in 2015, this routine task has been getting a lot harder.
In the beginning, it became clear that he couldn’t make an appointment because he likely wouldn’t remember to go. I found this out the hard way with his dentist appointments. After having them call me a couple of times to find out where he was, I quickly took over as Tony’s personal scheduler.
I suppose it helped that Tony started getting his hair cut with my stylist in Woodstock. When I had shorter hair, I’d go every four weeks for trims. Although Tony was on a three-week schedule, it wasn’t too hard for him to wait an extra week and then we could go together.
When my mother came to live with us in 2014, she’d go on these haircut jaunts with us. My mother’s dementia worsened considerably during the time she lived with us. I remember one particularly difficult trip for haircuts when my mother refused to leave the salon. She was convinced that I was going to kill her and dump her body along the side of the road. I kid you not.
I spent a great deal of time trying to convince my mother that we just wanted to go home and that she had nothing to worry about. Thankfully, everyone at the salon knew what was going on, so I didn’t have to worry about someone getting the wrong idea and calling the police.
In the end, my mother did get into the car. Who knows if she even remembered being afraid by the time we made it home. However, this is what it can be like when you live with someone with dementia.
Tony, happily, has not expressed any misgivings about going to get a haircut. But now that he’s not really talking and just babbling most of the time, it’s hard to know for sure.
Still, when we head to our appointment, I never know what I’m going to get from him behavior-wise.
Since my Woodstock stylist moved, we’ve been going to a woman in Johnsburg whom I’ve known for decades. This seems to be helpful, since Tony has also known her for decades. She remembers when Tony used to take me to see her regularly before his diagnosis.
These days, I try to “prime the pump,” as it were, by telling Tony that we’ll be getting haircuts a couple of days before we do. I tell him that we’re going to see our friend Carrie, and that he’s going to need to sit in her chair.
That’s where things have gone awry in the past. A salon chair usually spins and has a footrest that, for someone with dementia, can be hard to navigate. When Tony’s lucid, he has no problem. When he isn’t, no amount of asking, cajoling or demonstrating can get him into that chair.
Sometimes it’s a matter of letting me go first so that he sees me sitting there. Sometimes it’s getting him into the chair before his brain derails him.
And once, we even had to have Carrie come to our house when it became apparent that Tony just wasn’t going to cooperate. I’m grateful that she was willing to do that. I just hope we don’t have to resort to that too often.
If all else fails, Tony’s other caregiver, Andre, can cut Tony’s hair. Or I can, as I did during the COVID-19 pandemic. But that’s the last resort; I’m a writer, not a hairstylist.
Getting a haircut can be a simple task. For the Olivers, it’s a matter of figuring out which contingency plan will work. Happily, we do have a few.
• Joan Oliver is the former Northwest Herald assistant news editor. She has been associated with the Northwest Herald since 1990. She can be reached at jolivercolumn@gmail.com.