Narrative Story/Series Winner Publication: Omaha World-Herald By: Michael O’Connor Judges’ Comments: All of the entries in this category were fine stories, written by obviously gifted journalists, but few of them were narratives--that is, few served up their contents in detailed scenes, using conversation rather than quotes, etc., etc. Most of these stories are pretty straight, old school features. There’s not a rotten one in the bunch, but that doesn’t win here.
Excerpt from “In the grip of Alzheimers” Mostly, though, they enjoyed simple moments at home. Listening to Neil Diamond — Liz’s favorite. Taking their dog Mazie for a walk. When the TV show ended, Terry held Liz’s hand and helped her stand. He walked her down the hallway to their bedroom in kind of a tandem shuffle, standing behind her like a shadow, holding the back of her shoulders. When Liz stepped with her right foot, so did Terry. When Liz stepped with her left foot, Terry did too. Terry hadn’t always been so patient. Earlier in their marriage, before Alzheimer’s ever affected Liz, Terry could become a little testy. Nothing dramatic. Just typical husband-wife moments. Liz might ask questions about a financial investment they made, even though Terry felt he had already explained it. Why do we need to go over this again, he’d say. Liz, too, had her quirks, her imperfections, long before Alzheimer’s. Though she loved fresh veggies, she couldn’t resist digging into a bag of chips. She snored occasionally and Terry would nudge her, and it seemed she was always searching for her car keys. Alzheimer’s forced Terry to dig deep for patience because nothing came easy for Liz, like getting dressed for bed. On this night, just like hundreds before, Liz sat on the edge of their bed. Terry knelt beside her, telling his wife to lift her foot, and then the other so he could slip the pajama leg on. Then Liz and Terry shuffled into the den, and settled into cushy arm chairs. Throughout their marriage, Liz and Terry made time each day to read scripture, then talk about how it fit their lives. As a lamp shined softly, Terry read from the Gospel of Matthew.
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Terry and Liz knew now, more than ever, that God strengthened them one day at a time. “Therefore do not worry saying, ‘What will we eat?,’ or ‘What will we drink?’ ... Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” ••• Liz’s body trembled as she sat in a doctor’s exam room. Her eyes looked straight ahead, her body leaned forward and her legs were pressed together, almost as if they were bound. It was August 2012 — five years after her diagnosis — and Terry had brought Liz for an exam by her neurologist, Dr. Dan Murman of UNMC. Liz was nearing the seventh and final stage of Alzheimer’s. Before the doctor stepped in, a nurse practitioner asked Terry if he had concerns. Liz continues to eat less and less, and has lost weight, Terry said. He must cut
all her food into bite-sized pieces, and she can no longer feed herself. She also cannot sleep through the night, waking up as many as four times to use the bathroom with Terry’s help. The nurse checked whether Liz could follow simple instructions. Put your thumb and index finger together, the nurse told Liz. The nurse showed Liz how. Liz’s fingers didn’t move. Dr. Murman came in and asked Liz how she was doing. She remained silent. Terry asked the doctor’s opinion about their next step. He knew his wife soon would require 24-hour care in a home for Alzheimer’s patients and wanted to know if the time was right. “Now,” the doctor told Terry, “is a very appropriate time. You’ve been doing an amazing job at home.” Terry selected an Omaha home called An Angel’s Touch because he believed it had a reputation for treating patients with dignity. For the first time since their wedding on a warm California day 37 years ago, Liz and Terry would live apart.