The Bipolar Dementia Art Chronicles: How a Manic-Depressive Artist Survives Being the Primary Caregiver for Her Father and Ex-Mother-in-Law - A Memoir

by Lynne Taetzsch

No Synopsis Available.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 159113854X
• ISBN13: 9781591138549
• Release Date: November 2005
• Publisher: Booklocker.com
• Length: 244 Pages
• Weight: 1.30 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.6" x 5.5" x 8.5"

Customer Reviews

Bipolar Dementia Art Chronicles

This book is a great read for someone who has been there or going through her experience. I have been there, and it is nice to validate my feelings and experience. I am not sure of the wide spread appeal. It brought back memories, some good and some not so good. I thoroughly enjoyed it. By the way her art it incredible.

Fantastic Book

The book is well written and insightful on many levels. It is a must read for caregivers and families dealing with issues openly and honestly. Ms. Taetzsch is a very gifted writer and artist. Andrew S.

self-identity in caregiving!

I began reading this book because of the references to manic depression and art but quickly found this to be a book of much broader scope. The reader is brought along with Taetzsch of a journey of self-discovery as she struggles not only with her identity as a bipolar artist but also as she takes on the role of caregiver for her father, who suffers from Alzheimers, and her aging mother-in-law. Taetzsch navigates the complexity of aging and illness and family dynamics to the backdrop of her work as a successful painter. Through all of this stuggle we see her emerge with a greater understanding of herself and others. As a reader brought along on her journey I found myself awakened to similar insights within my own life. This is a must-read for anyone interested in balancing creative energy with trauma.

Solace for all care givers of elderly

Lynne Taetzsch does those of us dealing with infirm elderly relatives a great favor. Her candid account of caring for her father and (ex)mother-in-law reveals all the hesitations, resentments and, most of all, the imperative of LOVE which characterizes this situation. Taetzsch is hard on herself, revealing with utmost candor moments of annoyance and even anger, as she moves along in this journey, which is complicated by her own bipolar condition. What is most clear is her over-the-top devotion to these two figures in her life, her constancy and her relentless drive to make their existence as comfortable as possible as they "decline" into their early/mid 90's and meet their eventual demise. So many of us face similar situations (although who would go so far as to take primary responsibility for an ex-mother-in-law! This speaks volumes about Taetzsch's innate generosity). I found the vignettes of daily situations most helpful;they showed the kind of small disasters (incontinence, for example, or the total disruption of daily schedules)that can test even the most loving and dedicated of caregivers. Taetzsch, an accomplished professional artist, evidently found her own personal solace in making art. This dimension of her experience is worthy of greater exposure, perhaps a sequel to this touching, easily readable, and great contribution to works (and how-to's) on caring for the elderly.

Caregiving with Grace, Guilt, Grandchildren . . . and Love

Every year I receive dozens of books to review that are memoirs about taking care of elderly parents, spouses and those with various disabilities. Knowing that I, too, have an elderly parent, I embrace these books as a way to better appreciate what the future holds for me. The Bipolar Dementia Art Chronicles turned my expectations on their head and made me laugh, chortle, smile and sigh. The first tip-off that this book was different came when Ms. Taetzsch indicated that she had been a professor of creative writing at Morehead State. It's hard to imagine a "poor little me" memoir from someone who has taught creative writing and loves to paint. The front cover, on second inspection, reinforced that thought with its bright, vivid boldness based on a painting of hers. Visiting the Web site for her art, I saw that Ms. Taetzsch is a woman of immense energy, optimism and enthusiasm. That gave me a new thought. You know the old question and ironic answer, I'm sure: "How do you get something difficult done? Find a busy person to do it." It occurred to me to wonder if perhaps Ms. Taetzsch is a high bandwidth person who has much to teach all of us who eagerly take on a bit too much. The book soon confirmed that diagnosis. Ms. Taetzsch is also someone who goes through the emotional highs and lows of being bipolar (what some used to call manic-depressive) . . . and those highs can also be times when one takes on a bit too much . . . like when she decided to move to upper New York state to be near her daughter and grandchildren along with her retired husband . . . and then arranged to move her father and ex-mother-in-law (both in their early 90s) into the same assisted living facility a few miles from her new home. How would everyone cope? Surprisingly well, as it turned out. Her father was losing his short-term memory so it was a bit of a struggle to keep him in regular assisted living. But he loved the company, the food and seeing his family more often. Her ex-mother-in-law didn't like the food at all (having always been a good cook) and didn't receive enough company to suit her tastes. Ms. Taetzsch learned all kinds of new skills -- such as providing gifts of chocolates to the staff to improve daily care, finding ways of follow up on ridiculous ideas by physicians that were virtually impossible to do and adjusting everyone's medicine when new, scary symptoms predictably broke out after new prescriptions were taken. But she also realized that she wanted to mean more in the lives of these two people. Of six children, Ms. Taetzsch had hardly been her father's favorite. Being the local relative in charge put them into a more intimate and caring relationship than would have otherwise occurred. But it still hurt when her father continually confused her with her sisters or asked for sisters who rarely visited. As with all patients who are losing a bit of memory, there were predictable struggles over bothering other patients, di