Mindy from Maryland

My husband Ted was first in his class at Duke, winner of the best Ph.D. for all of Cornell, and top of his class later on at Yale Law School. In other words, Ted is brilliant. But in 2010 he was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's and I have watched his disease advance, to the point where he now cannot eat, drink, read, write or listen to music without my help.

I am still working as an employment and labor attorney. I have relinquished my office and work from the house, so I can watch Ted, make his meals, help him with his medications and try to restore some of his world through conversation. We have three rescue dogs, and each morning and later in the day we go for long walks. Ted likes to go in the car, watch DVDs and eat ice cream. I make sure we do all three every day.

What is striking is how many people forget that Ted exists. He was a Senior Counsel at the SEC, yet only two colleagues have contacted him. One of his daughters never calls or emails. Few friends come to visit him. It is almost as if the Alzheimer's is contagious. As Ted's memory fades, the memory of Ted fades among so many people.

I try to keep him visible. I speak out about Alzheimer's. I take Ted on trips. I write about Ted in class notes.

It is hard being a caregiver. I feel like a widow. But a widow with a baby. Ted's illness puts my own future into a tailspin, but I will not give up on him. So long as Ted is physically healthy, he stays in his own house. And I am there for him step by step, because I know we are running out of time --and one day soon, the darkness will descend. I get up at 7 am and get to bed at 2 am just to keep up with my challenged household. I need help, but I also need to help Ted.

Our government needs to provide respite for caregivers. I do not expect to get paid for what I do, but I do expect some time off and some recognition that I am deserving of some time just for me.