I needed a couple more hours of PE to graduate college. The only class that fit my work/class schedule was archery, so I spent Tuesday afternoons with a bow and arrow. And learned that I needed to aim at the target to the right so I could hit the one in front of me. I didn’t expect to actually BE an archer. I grew up in a city, measured land in “blocks” and the biggest threat was the tarantula that hid in the brush near the little stream that meandered through the neighborhood.
Wheels, on the other hand, grew up on a farm smack dab in the middle of the US where land is still measured by “sections”, squares that are a mile long and a mile wide. The family had a small dairy herd that provided milk for the family and for sale. And had a beef herd that provided market beef with one or two earmarked to feed the family through the year. A loss of any animal meant a loss for both the family table and the income for the year.
Coyotes, huge coyotes, were plentiful, roaming the countryside, howling at night and feeding on whatever livestock they could bring down. Farmers carried varmint rifles in pickups. A coyote sighting called for a stop to protect profits from the coyote. Call them Ciohtees or Kiots – it was war.
When dementia came to our house, the war on coyotes had been largely won on the farm and we now lived miles away, measuring land by blocks. The varmint rifle had moved to the house and multiplied. The big ones were stored in soft zipper cases on a closet shelf and smaller ones in a locked box in the basement. Justin kept track of the ammunition.
Dementia created hands that had to always be occupied. Sometimes that meant checking out the guns. I became concerned that once disassembled they were not getting back together correctly, and would cause a misfire if ever used. Side note: I actually have no idea if that could even BE a problem, but it bothered me. (Justin says it can’t possibly happen.) But that was really a sign that my concerns about his ability to function were correct. His whole life was built on taking things apart to repair and/or replace them correctly. I never questioned that ever but now I was wondering all the time because things seemed “off.”
When small arms began showing up in dresser drawers and garage shelves, I became more concerned. The biggest reason was likely the disorganization of a dementia brain, but I did not like how “handy” they were. Random ammunition of varying sizes also began showing up in pockets before laundry. These things were all out of character for Wheels. He had belonged to a shooting range for a few years to keep up his excellent marksmanship from military service and to teach his sons the same, but to handle the guns at home – never.
Then one Christmas after diagnosis, we were preparing for a holiday visit from a number of young nieces and nephew. I asked him if we could gather up his firearms and put them away in the basement to “keep them safe from the kids”. He willingly fetched them from the closet shelf and other places and helped put them in a large tote. Then he and Justin got it up on the very out of the way shelf above their heads.
Justin gathered up the ammunition and secured it in another spot. Wheels approved. A couple of times, while he was still walking, he pointed out the tote and I would confirm that contained his guns. He was content. They are still there.
As caregivers we tackle the hard things. Things we never gave a second thought –before diagnosis. We set up locked medication storage, secure stoves and refrigerators, put cameras around entryways, take away car keys, put trackers in shoes and wallets. Of 120 dementia caregivers surveyed by the University of Colorado School of Medicine, results showed that few had received information about firearms and dementia. One third of them reported access to firearms in the home. Of those, 71 percent expressed concern that the person with dementia would accidentally harm themselves or some one else.
There is one more statistic that we need to consider as well – and the reason I decided to take on this subject. It is not a topic I ever expected to tackle in any way.
Part 2 will examine the two things that caregivers need to consider. And some solutions that will help us thoughtfully handle the situation.
Written by Charlene Vance