Memories, An Alzheimer's Story

Preface

When deciding to write this book I knew that the only experience I had with Alzheimer’s was limited to the media and the few stories my mother had told me relating to friends of hers. My decision therefore was to use this book as not only a learning experience for myself but to make people aware of how this devastating disease can change a family.

First, what is Alzheimer’s? Alzheimer’s is the sixth leading cause of death in America today. It is a brain disease that causes problems with memory, thinking, and behavior. It is a progressive disease where symptoms gradually worsen over a number of years, from an early stage where memory loss is mild to an advanced stage where individuals lose their ability to carry on a conversation or respond to simple questions. It is not limited to just old people as symptoms can appear with someone in their 40s or 50s known as early-onset Alzheimer’s.

Just like the rest of our bodies our brains change as we age yet most people believe their slowed-thinking and lack of memory recall is nothing more than old age creeping up on them. The problem comes when those memory losses turn to confusion or behavioral changes along with disorientation or forgetfulness of those closest to you.

The next problem is that no two people experience Alzheimer’s disease in the same way; therefore there is not just one approach to caring for that individual. The best approach seems to be surrounding that person with the ones they love and continually reminding them of everything that is going on around them while keeping their minds working with activities, puzzles, mind-challenges, and repetitive behaviors that are familiar to them.

The following fictional story is derived from my thoughts on how this terrible disease slowly creeps up on an unsuspecting family and the perils they face while confronting it head on. My hope is that this fictional story can shed some light on how this disease works and how it can easily destroy a family.

Writing about an unknown is never a solitary venture and there were many, many articles online that helped me with the definitions and research necessary to write about something I knew little about.

The Alzheimer’s Association website gave me the help and guidance to understand the disease through its definitions and explanations which I quoted in many of my early chapters. Using the Helpguide.org website I was able to understand the behavioral management aspects of the disease and many of their descriptions were also used to formulate the story. Other websites, too numerous to mention, gave me the knowledge to write about the disease, the effects of the disease, and the all-important role that the patients caregiver plays in bringing the final chapter of one’s life to a comfortable end.

One

I remember looking up into the clear blue sky just watching the bright red triangular shape of the kite as it twisted and turned in the wind. The white fabric tail swayed back and forth in the breeze as the string tugged repeatedly back and forth with each forceful pull.

Make it go higher Daddy, make it go even higher, I would yell as I watched in awe at his remarkable abilities.

He was a man I always looked up to as a child and idolized as a young adult. Never speculating when he would no longer be able to run the beach pulling on that string that made me so happy and so excited, never thinking I would ever need to take care of him the way he always took care of me.

Our minds are an amazing organ the way it processes information and stores it for future use. One of those uses is to fuel our memories as we think back and remember all the good times of the past. All the good times that made us laugh and cry are pulled back to the surface making us wish we were right there in that moment..

When you think back on the past you usually forget the day-to-day struggles that confronted you or the awful times when you cried with sorrow when your fish died or you cursed at the alarm clock that made you get up every day for yet another day of school. What you remember most are the good times; the times when you laughed and the times when something special happened and the entire family came together.

When I look back on my childhood it is filled with loving memories of my dad and mom and all the good times we enjoyed together as a family. I remember my brother too but those memories are not quite as happy since we were usually at each other’s throat causing daily problems for the family to tackle.

Dad and Mom never seemed that old to me, just the normal age of grownups, an age that most of us hope we’ll never reach. Thinking back now it just seems like everything happened so very fast. We were a family of four trotting through each day, growing up and getting older right before each other’s eyes, just living our lives happy and carefree.

Then suddenly one day your brother is a teenager and he’s in high school and he’s driving a car and girls are coming to the house to see me, when really they want to see him. Just as suddenly you’re in high school and he’s graduated and gone off into the Marines and you find yourself alone upstairs with no nagging brother to pester you to death and no girls visiting for another peek at him.

It isn’t long before your snotty nose brother comes home a handsome man in his dress-blue uniform and you look at him and wonder who this person is that has stopped by to visit us. Your parents are elated at the man he has become and are suddenly proud of him, a trait you never dreamed they would apply to him.

But those memories soon vanish and you are finishing high school and starting college and wondering just what it is that you want to do with the rest of your life. Everything seems happy as your parents celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary and you suddenly stop and look at them and notice the gray hair creeping in, the bags under their eyes, and how their excitement level now is merely watching television until ten o’clock before retiring for the day.

How did they get that old so fast, you say to yourself as you try to visit them every day on the way to and from your college classes. They’re still happy and they still treat you like a child but you put up with all their usual parental personalities because deep down inside you know they are getting older.

Suddenly you remember graduating from college and everyone at the house celebrating your grand achievement although you notice that there isn’t quite as big a crowd in the house as there used to be.

Now you’re out of college and working as a paralegal in a law firm with your own apartment and your own responsibilities. You still always visit them because now they can’t drive at night and it’s so much easier for you to stop by than for them to tackle the traffic finding you.

Days, weeks, and months fly by as your career prospers and you meet the man of your dreams as the two of you talk about starting a family of your own, and then suddenly it happens and you’re married with your own child. Grandma and Grandpa are elated at their new grandchild and you only wish that Dad could fly a kite on the beach for your child the way he did for you. Instead, the most he seems to be able to do is bounce your daughter on his knee or play hide and seek with her, which is fine with you but makes you realize how very old he’s become.

This man that you’ve idolized your entire life suddenly looks different to you as for the first time you ponder the thought of life without him.

Two

Suddenly the call comes that you have dreaded your entire adult life, the call to come quickly to the hospital to see your father. Before you know it you’ve arrived just in time to say your final goodbyes and thank him for being the best father in the world. Your hero in life is now gone, moved to the category of another memory.

Now you look over at your mom who has suddenly taken over as the sole parent and you think of her age and think immediately how this sequence of events will be replayed in the future; a call followed by the final goodbyes. This is life; this is how memories are created.

She also looks so old to you now with her hair streaked in gray that is so noticeable you wonder how long it has been that way. You grab a picture off your desk and look at it only to discover that her hair has been gray for many, many years now. Her eyes that were always so vibrant and shining are now foggy with little color as they continually look down at the ground instead of up in the sky. Her voice is weak, her body