LEAD: New Yorkers accept confusion and disorientation as a fact of life. For most, things could be worse.
New Yorkers accept confusion and disorientation as a fact of life. For most, things could be worse.
Each weekday, a bus picks up 20 or so people with Alzheimer's disease at their homes in Brooklyn and takes them to the Adult Day Care Program of the Jewish Hospital Medical Center in the Prospect Heights neighborhood.
These people are literally losing their minds. Some can no longer feed themselves. Some cannot go to the toilet alone. And the nature of the disease is that things just keep getting worse. Eventually, Alzheimer's victims forget how to walk, talk and swallow. The shadows darken. Ever so slowly, they die.
But the day-care center is a very happy place. ''We encourage them to have a wonderful day here,'' said Naomi Berger, the director.
And so they seem to do. They sing and dance and make crafts and play games and color pictures and stroke pets and hold one another's hands. They take field trips to Coney Island and the Brooklyn Museum. There are the spring hat show, birthday cakes and Santa Claus.
There is little sense of the biggest loss, the truly irretrievable one.
''We don't have the pain of knowing who they were,'' the assistant director, Cheryl Waldman, said. ''I don't have to look at Morris and think this was once my father.''
The program gives families a huge blessing, temporary escape from the endless strain of monitoring a precarious loved one. ''I love my wife and I'll take care of her at home for as long as I can,'' Bill said. ''Sheila would do the same for me. But it's hard. She needs help with everything, toileting, bathing, dressing, eating. I'd explode if I couldn't get away sometimes.''
To be admitted, applicants have to have diagnoses of Alzheimer's - not an easy call, although 5 percent of the people older than 65 have the disease - and to live within an hour's drive.
Most participants are poor and black. Medicaid pays the bills. A cruel fact is that many people lose out, because small pensions combined with Social Security make them ineligible for Medicaid.
Participants arrive before 10 A.M. The other day, most seemed slightly dazed, but enjoyed cookies and coffee. ''We schmooze with them,'' Ms. Berger said. Then came simple exercises performed while sitting in chairs. This routine - never varied - seemed appreciated for its predictability.
At 10:45 came ''Welcome Time.'' Ms. Berger calls that ''reality orientation.'' The date, season and weather were discussed.
''There are so many wonderful people here!'' Ms. Waldman then exclaimed. She kissed a withered woman who long ago did postgraduate work at Harvard. The woman proceeded to blow kisses to everybody sitting in the circle of chairs. ''I love you all,'' she peeped.
A woman named Virginia was introduced. She boogied to the center of the circle. Some clapped. Others did not seem to see her. ''She's struttin'!'' Ms. Berger shouted. ''Check it out!''
Everybody had their moment, first when introduced and then when introducing another. ''We welcome you to day care,'' Ernestine said to Booker.
Next, all cooperated on a giant crossword puzzle. A clue: ''You can eat it in a cone or a cup. You can lick it off a stick. It is two words. The first begins with ''i.'' Tentatively, several said the right answer.
In truth, all answers are right. After Josephine spelled carousel without the ''u,'' Ms. Waldman said, ''They put a ''u'' in it, but I bet you could spell it either way.''
Just before lunch, records were played. Rock to reggae to rock-a-bye. Some participants shot up to dance. Some were gently pulled to their feet. Some swayed rhythmically in their chairs. Some just sat, frozen.
People shuffled outside for a barbecue, a summer treat. Hot dogs, hamburgers, watermelon, ice cream, the works.
When Ms. Waldman cut food into pieces for those who could not manage, the social worker said she was studying to be a surgeon and needed practice.
After eating, people sat on benches in the sun. They started to sing songs. One contained the line, ''This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine.'' Another was, ''When I grow too old to dream, I'll have you to remember.''
They then inched back inside, some holding hands, some holding the wall for support.
Time to bowl. Big plastic pins were set on the floor. Frances was first. She knocked down seven pins. Ernestine bent over and laboriously pushed the ball with both hands. It rolled very, very slowly. Strike! Booker then missed everything, but who's counting?
Correction: July 27, 1989, Thursday, Late Edition - Final
A report in About New York on July 15 about a day-care center for people with Alzheimer's disease misidentified the center. It is the JHMCB Center for Nursing and Rehabilitation, not the Jewish Hospital Medical Center, which has changed its name and is not affiliated with the day-care center.