I hope this is an appropriate story to share with you. I mean it as story of hope and coping. I hope you, and maybe other people on this thread will find a message in it that resonates with them.
My grandmother died from Alzheimers. She lived too long with this disease. She spent close to 10 years being non-responsive and her limbs were all curled up. She was a wonderful woman and she did not deserve this during her retirement. It was tough. I would talk to her, hold her hand, tell her all about everything, but her eyes were empty. No sense of recognition of anything. I cannot describe that look. It got to the point that we would tell her it was OK to let go. But, she kept holding on for some reason. I have tears as I write this. I spent a lot of time with her. Her name was Rose and her personality was just as beautiful as her name suggests. FUCK YOU ALZHEIMERS!
I take some comfort in a couple of things from her struggle.
One day, years after she was un-responsive, I visited. I put my face in front of hers, kissed her on the forehead (her greeting), placed both of my hands on her cheeks, and said "Hi Grandma". Her eyes were always empty and had been so for years. For a brief moment, her eyes locked on mine and she said " Hi sweetie", and then It was gone. It was the last time my grandma said anything to me. I will never forget it.
Another thing I remember fondly was before she got real bad. She had forgotten how old she was and also would forget that she had 7 children and 25 grandchildren. She was chasing my Grandpa around like a horny woman with a ticking biological clock. She was all over him and wanted kids. My grandpa would say things like "Rosie, I have not been able to do that in 15 years". It was so cute to see them like that. I choose to remember this fondly.
My grandpa always said he wanted to bury his wife. He was sick too and we had no idea who would pass first. Cancer, emphysema, among other things. My grandma passed. My grandpa buried her with her rosary and a nice picture of the whole family and a private letter which included some photos they exchanged when he was stationed in Korea. Within two weeks, my grandpa was on his death bed. I visited him and told him it was OK to let go. That his family was OK and that Rosie would waiting for him in heaven. He passed away a couple days later, having lived long enough to bury his wife. I am proud of him for this and I admire his determination. I try to think of this when times get tough for me.
I was able to find some comfort in their passing by remembering fondly not only the memories we made before they were sick, but also the memories we made while they were sick. My grandpa watching the brewers while holding my grandmas hand and telling her "I love you Rosie" even tho my grandma was non-responsive. I was able to have positive memories of the time even after sickness, I hope that maybe you can do the same. It does not erase the painful memories, it just offers your mind other thoughts to drift to.
God Bless.