Taking away a person with dementia’s (PwD) car keys, canceling their credit cards—and, eventually, disappearing their cell phone—are some of the most difficult challenges that a caregiver faces, especially in the earlier stages of Alzheimer’s disease. But these are the necessary steps you must take to keep your loved one safe during their illness.
Dementia in the Driver’s Seat
My sister Peggy was never the best driver of all time—she actually totaled three cars in her life—but she genuinely loved to drive. She loved owning her various cars over the years (my favorite was her orange Karmann Ghia), she loved going on road trips with her friends, and she always valued her independence to come and go as she pleased. So it was really terrible for her when she was officially diagnosed in May 2018, and we discovered that she was already in Stage 4.
Even on the way to a neurologist appointment a few months prior to that diagnosis, I was following her on the highway and noticed she was all over the road. She managed to stay in her lane, but just barely. So once I realized the real reason why, I had no choice but to take her keys away.
To my relief, though, Peggy was pretty pragmatic about the whole thing. The way we finessed the conversation with her was to remind her that our dad—who, in his younger days, had a side gig as a driving instructor—almost seriously injured someone when he was driving out of a parking lot. He was 90 years old at the time and we had to really work to convince him his driving days were over. Peggy remembered that incident, so thankfully all I had to say to her was, “You don’t want to be like Dad, do you?” She handed over the keys immediately.
Most people have long drawn out battles over this issue, so I know we got quite lucky here.
Canceling the Cards
Dealing with my sister’s credit cards wasn’t as straightforward; I decided to handle that in stages. As soon as she was diagnosed, I made sure that I was added to her accounts so I could monitor everything that was being billed to her. (Trust issues abound in this area, so you’ll have to tread gently with your own PwD here if you want to take this step.) Being able to watch for anything out of place gave me peace of mind for a long while, because we’ve all read about how vulnerable to scams that PwD can be. I wanted the ability to prevent that for Peggy.
In those early days, Peggy was still more or less online, but I wasn’t that worried since she spent most of her time on Facebook, and very little time on shopping sites or responding to spam emails. Still, I figured an ounce of prevention and all was warranted.
After monitoring her credit cards for a month or two to see what her recurring payments were, I canceled everything that looked extraneous—with her permission, of course. This was another necessary step, as by the time I ended her subscriptions for salad dressing and shampoo, she already had accumulated lifetime supplies of both! I also killed her dozens of recurring political donations (even though we always voted pretty similarly). But I knew we needed to preserve as much money as possible for her continuing care.
Phasing Out the Phone
My sister’s phone was the last aspect of her pre-dementia self that we had to address. Normally, Peggy was always glued to her phone, but as her Alzheimer’s progressed it became more and more challenging for her. By the time she moved into memory care she wasn’t able to check her email or look at Facebook or do anything else online. She was still barely able to use it for phone calls by late 2022, but only because we had done a lot of work to make it simpler for her. To start with, we removed every app on that phone except her ability to make and receive calls. We also kept her iPhone in Do Not Disturb mode and had a limited number of people in her Favorites list.
Not long after that, though, it was clear that Peggy’s phone had become a source of major stress. So I told her that was broken and I had to take it to the Apple store to get fixed. She accepted that explanation, handed it over to me—and then I never gave it back. When she’d ask about it, I just kicked the can down the road, and said it was still being fixed. Eventually she forgot she even had a phone. I never believed that could happen. Even though everyone told me it would happen, I didn’t really believe them. But fortunately, they were right.
I know taking away access to all of these things can bring on feelings of guilt for caregivers, but you have to remind yourself that you’re not doing anything wrong. In fact, you are keeping your PwD safe, and that’s the most important thing.
