Video Life Narrative

Weblog

Home
About Us
Materials
Price List
Contact Us
Weblog

Fred and His Mom in 1950
Fred and His Mom in 1950

"I Am What I Remember."

Welcome to my weblog. My mother Libby D'Ignazio has Alzheimer's Disease. I love my mom as much as I love any person in the world. I know she loves me. Having her slowly drift away from me and not know me is something I can't bear.
 
I will use this weblog (or "blog") as a public diary. I will tell you what I learn, experience and feel as I go through my days as the son of a person with Alzheimer's. I hope that this journal will help others as they follow the same path I am following.
                        -- Fred D'Ignazio (Fall 2005)

 

Please send me your comments by using the form on the "Contact Us" page. Let me know if you want me to post your comment in the blog. Also, tell me if you want your email address listed.

This blog appears each day with the newest article on the top and the oldest article stored in the blog's monthly archives. In effect, it reads backwards!

To read the blogs in chronological order or to find a particular blog, click on Blog Articles.

For a quick introduction to the blog, take a look at:

"The Long and Winding Road" is the first article in the blog. It appeared on Monday, October 24, 2005.

Archive Newer | Older

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

My Mom the Card Shark
 
My mom is an excellent bridge player. She also has Alzheimer's Disease.
 
How can Mom have Alzheimer's and play cards? Doesn't card playing require memory skills?
 
Mom's memory is fading. For example, as she was headed out the door yesterday to play bridge at my mother-in-law Doris Letts' house, Mom turned to Dad and said: "Now where am I going again?"
 
Once she got to Doris's house, Mom was fine. Here is the email that Doris sent me this morning:
It went great. She was just like I always knew her -- sharp at the cards -- and seemed to enjoy the get together .....
I called Mom this morning and she told me she had fun at Doris's. "I worried that I might not remember things," she told me. "But once we started playing, I was fine. I had a good time."
 
PLAYING CARDS WITH ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE
 
The fact that Mom can play cards is good. The Alzheimer's Association publishes a list of the seven warning signs that signal the onset of Alzheimer's Disease. One of these signs is:
Forgetting how to cook, or how to make repairs, or how to play cards — activities that were previously done with ease and regularity.
I'd like to see Mom playing cards more often. It's not proven that playing bridge will slow the progress of Alzheimer's Disease, but it can't hurt. Mom obviously has considerable brainpower left for her to be "sharp at the cards." Perhaps by exercising her brain she can keep the working part of her brain disease-free for a longer time.
 
Mental activity (like playing cards) has been shown, in study after study, to lower the risk of Alzheimer's Disease for people who are dementia-free. It might also be a good activity for people, like my mother, who are in the early stages of the disease.
 
USE IT OR LOSE IT
 
Studies have found that people who are dementia-free have a lower chance of getting Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia if they keep active mentally. For example, in a 2002 study sponsored by the Rush Alzheimer's Disease Center in Chicago:
The study followed over 700 dementia-free participants age 65 and older for an average of 4.5 years from their initial assessments. At baseline and then yearly, some 21 cognitive tests were administered to assess various aspects of memory, language, attention, and spatial ability. At the initial evaluations, participants also were asked about time typically spent in seven common activities that significantly involve information processing - viewing television; listening to the radio; reading newspapers or magazines; reading books; playing games such as cards, checkers, crosswords, or other puzzles; and going to museums.
The study found that the frequency of activity was related to the frequency of contracting Alzheimer's Disease. For every one point increase in a person's activity score, the risk of developing Alzheimer's Disease dropped by 33 percent. On the average, compared to someone who did the fewest mental activities, the risk of the disease was reduced by 47 percent for those who regularly had the most activities.
4:34 pm est

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Old Age Is Not for Sissies
 
On WHYY-Philadelphia's Voices in the Family radio show, host Dan Gottlieb recently had guests who discussed the impact of depression on an older person's health. (Click here to listen to the 52-minute program on RealPlayer.) 
 
Dan began the program by citing Art Linkletter's famous book entitled Old Age Is Not for Sissies. He commented on the data that almost 50% of residents of nursing homes are diagnosed as depressed; while only 29% of seniors, in general, have depression. According to guest Dr. Ira Katz, geriatric psychiatrist at the University of Pennsylvania, depression is not the fault of the nursing homes. Instead, he said, depression and dementia disorders (chiefly Alzheimer's) are the primary reasons that seniors are put into nursing homes.
 
According to Dan, the current generation of seniors shows a mental toughness that earlier generations didn't have. The cause for this resilience may be related to the challenging life experiences the seniors have had, including the Great Depression, World War II, and the threat of nuclear holocaust.
 
Rabbi Zalman Schachter, author of "From Aging to Saging," offered the insight that aging without extended consciousness is like dying longer. His point was that old age is commonly seen as a time when our minds slow down, and when the world seems to speed up. Cell phones, the Internet, 400-channel TVs, voice mail, answering machines -- all are hazards and hurdles that seniors must learn how to navigate. If not, they risk falling behind, cursing and spluttering as they slam down the telephone and shut off contacts with an increasingly mystifying outside world.
 
Rabbi Schachter's idea is to use new brain research that shows that for most seniors, almost all of their 100 billion neurons are still firing. There is no need for older people to barricade the doors, raise the shields and go into siege mentality. But what alternative do they have?
 
WHAT IS MY PLACE IN THE WORLD?
 
The process of "extending consciousness" and renewing a commitment to life begins with asking oneself the question: "What is my place in the world?"
 
According to the host, Dan Gottlieb, when we make new social associations we "put our ego to sleep" and we find a new meaning for our lives in the lives of those around us. This extends consciousness beyond our own bodies and situation to the lives of others -- their welfare, their happiness, and their well-being. It is an extension of concern. When we extend our concern to the well-being of others we approach life rather than resigning ourselves to a quiet dying.
 
WE ARE LIKE SEA GLASS WITH SOFTENED EDGES
 
When we look at ourselves right this moment, how do we see ourselves? Do we have sharp edges or rounded edges? Apparently people who age evolve into one of these two types.
 
Dan Gottlieb likened aging to glass that emerges from the sea after long periods of being rubbed and rounded by ocean sand. Early on in life, he said, we have sharp edges. But, like sea glass, our edges become rounded as we crash into life experiences, bumping and grazing against all around us. The outcome, if we are lucky, is that in old age we at last become comfortable in our own skins.
 
 
10:45 am est

Monday, November 28, 2005

How Can I Understand What You Are Going Through?
 
I've been following the story of Tom DeBaggio, a 56-year-old writer, commentator, and herb grower, who came down with early-onset Alzheimer's Disease in 1998. Now 63, Tom is still alive, although his mental abilities have dropped precipitously in the last year. He no longer writes. He can't read. And, worst of all, his will to go on living has weakened.
 
On May 19th and May 20th 2005, NPR's All Things Considered interviewed Tom and his wife Joyce at their herb farm in Chantilly, Virginia. The program ran in two parts: In Part One, the interviewer concentrated on Tom. In Part Two, we hear from Joyce what has been like to be a caregiver of a person with Alzheimer's.
 
Tom and Joyce's plight reminds me of my mom and dad. Dad is Mom's primary caregiver. I've written in earlier blog postings about the intimate dance that a caregiver does with the loved one they are caring for. The two of them are bound together, for better or worse, trying to see the process through. On the way, the individual steps can exhaust both of them.
 
Here is an excerpt from Tom and Joyce's interview:
 
Joyce and Tom DeBaggio in May 2005
Joyce: "He forgets immediately what was said before. And it gets very frustrating because I will continue to repeat what I said, and as I repeat it, I get louder, for some reason. And then he thinks I'm shouting at him." (Laughing.) "And then he gets angry and upset because he thinks I'm shouting at him. And then we have to go back, and we start again. And that gets very frustrating."
 
Joyce (continued): "I asked him once if he could understand how frustrating it gets for me, and he said no, he couldn't."
 
NPR Interviewer: "You don't see that, Tom?"
 
Tom: "What?"
 
NPR Interviewer: "The frustration for her?"
 
Tom: "I don't even think of that, because I don't know what she is."
 
Joyce: "What do you mean?"
 
Tom: "We're different. That's all."
 
Interviewer: "So her experience of your disease is alien to you?"
 
Tom: "Yeah. She can't possibly know what I'm going through. But I don't know it either, because I can't remember."
 
 
 
12:47 pm est

Sunday, November 27, 2005

"I Can't Remember Yesterday."

Ginny Alyanakian, Mom's best friend, died just three nights ago, on Thanksgiving evening. On Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving, I called my mom from North Carolina. We had an emotional conversation on the phone. (See my blog.)

All day long, on Friday, I worried about Mom's state of mind. Late in the day I called her. She was out at hers and Dad's farm in Oxford, Pennsylvania. When she answered the phone her voice was happy and energetic. "We've had a wonderful day!" she exclaimed. "Joe and Naomi Tercha took us on a drive today, and we saw so many things. We've watched football on TV, and now we're going to Owsley's for dinner. It was a great day."
 
What a relief. After only one day, Ginny's death was behind her--at least temporarily. Mom's quick recovery reminded me of Tom DeBaggio's comments in an interview for National Public Radio:
Tomorrow I won't remember this [interview]. I can't remember yesterday. And unless it's something exceptional, such as this, I might remember it for a couple of days, but I just have no memory of yesterday at all.
 
Is that distressing? "Actually, no. It relieves me of a whole lot of things. You know, when you don't remember what you did yesterday, you can't feel bad about it or good about it, you know? It's just not there. And you're really living in the moment."
(To learn more about Tom DeBaggio, see "The Purpose of This Blog" and "Losing My Mind.")
 
"I Get Angry If a Chair Is Moved in the House."
 
Living in the moment is good, but it makes one's moments fragile and often precarious. If you can't take yesterday with you, you greet each new morning fresh, with no memory where you left your life the night before.
 
Mom fights her memory loss by keeping herself oriented at the level of tiny details. When I visited her I noticed how she flies around the apartment where she and Dad live, turning on lights, pulling up blinds, and pushing in chairs. I noticed that she didn't neaten up her entire living space, just certain items. I think these are her "orienting" items that she focuses on. When those items are okay, then Mom is okay. If those items are out of place, then Mom feels disoriented. She explodes in frustration, crying out, "Who put this here?"
 
I've also noticed how cautious Mom is about going anywhere without my Dad. Obviously, she is very dependent on my dad emotionally and mentally. They have been married for over 58 years. But I think my dad is my mom's "mobile orienter," her anchor. When Dad is with her, Mom feels grounded.
 
My two brothers and my sister have tried to get Mom to socialize more, to get involved in volunteer activities, and to look for fresh interests to engage her mind. But, mostly, they have failed to interest Mom. She is more comfortable keeping house, watching TV and reading the newspaper, and staying very close to my father.
 
Tom DeBaggio describes this same feeling in When It Gets Dark, his book on Alzheimer's Disease:
The real reason we haven't gone anywhere is that I am afraid of getting lost. I need the familiar around me to give me comfort and stability. I am at such a tender point in life now that I worry when I head out for the grocery store five blocks away. I get angry if a chair is moved in the house.
7:01 am est

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Mom & Dad's Inner Circle
 
Kurt Vonnegut in his novel Cat's Cradle creates a religion that he calls Bokononism, founded by the fictitious black Episcopalian Lionel Boyd Johnson from Tobago. One of the key terms in Bokononism is the karass -- a team of people who do God's Will without knowing it. A specialized form of karass is the duprass. A duprass is a karass composed of only two persons. According to Vonnegut, a duprass is:
a valuable instrument for gaining and developing, in the privacy of an interminable love affair, insights that are queer but true.  ... [A duprass is] a sweetly conceited establishment.
The members of a duprass are so intricately bound together that, according to Vonnegut, they "die within a week of each other."
Mom & Dad in the 1940s in Louisville
 
I believe that Mom and Dad form a duprass -- an inner circle that admits no other members. Dad described the development of this special relationship in the video he narrated for Mom's 80th birthday. He said that at first what attracted them to each other was passion. But after many years their passion evolved into a deep love. "Some people have love," said Dad, "and some don't. We happen to have it."
 
When I was in Pennsylvania last week I lived in the back room of Mom and Dad's apartment. I watched TV with them, ate meals with them, chatted with them, did errands with them, and helped them do household chores. I felt very welcomed by them. I knew they appreciated my being there.
 
But I always felt a little bit removed, a little displaced from their inner circle. It wasn't a bad feeling. It was interesting to observe. When one spoke, the other one always answered. On the other hand, often when I asked a question or made a comment, I was met with silence. I felt a teeny bit invisible.
 
In Mom and Dad's duprass -- their interminable love affair, their sweetly conceited establishment -- they only have eyes for each other. And ears, too.
Dad and Mom Dating in the 1940s
10:14 am est

Friday, November 25, 2005

Good-Bye, Mike. Good-Bye, Ginny.
 
This is a sad day for me and my family. Right now, as I write this blog entry, my mom's family in Kentucky is holding a memorial service for my cousin, Mike McComas, who passed away October 30th. And this morning my sister-in-law, Teri D'Ignazio, called and told me that my mom's best friend, Ginny Alyanakian, died last night.
 
I wrote about Mike in my November 2nd blog, just three days after he died. Mike was a smart guy -- a Phi Beta Kappa graduate from the University of Kentucky, an archaeologist, a systems analyst, and a dendrochronologist who mapped cone-pine rings to determine historical weather patterns. (See his obituary here.) But he moved to Tucson, Arizona, decades ago, and his brothers and parents in Kentucky and my family in Pennsylvania all lost touch with him.
 
What I've discovered since Mike died is that distance in time and space don't eliminate the grief you feel when someone in your family passes away.
 
This morning Teri D'Ignazio called me to tell me that Ginny Alyanakian had passed away last night, in her sleep, on Thanksgiving evening.
 
I had just visited Ginny on Monday of this week with my sister-in-law Nancy Flandreau D'Ignazio. Nancy sent me a voice message after she heard about Ginny's death. Her feelings mirrored mine. We are both a bit in shock. On Monday night Ginny had looked animated and very much alive. She told us that she planned to be driving again, just like her old feisty self.
 
And now, suddenly, she was gone.
 
I called my mom right away. I tried hard not to be emotional, but I wasn't capable of keeping the tears and the sadness out of my voice. "I'm 56 years old," I told my mom. "And I've known Ginny, and she's known me for all fifty-six years. She was your oldest friend, and she was mine, too."
 
Typical of my relationship with my mother, I called to offer her comfort, but she ended the conversation comforting me. "Don't be sad," she told me. "Thank you for being there with me. When I think of Ginny, now, I'll think of you."
 
Mom's voice trembled. And it troubled me. On one hand, I was elated to hear that Mom is connected to life so that Ginny's death affected her. On the other hand, I didn't want Mom to really be aware that she had lost her best friend.
 
Ginny, Charlie, Mom and Dad
 
Just the other night I asked my mom and dad, at my dad's restaurant, who was their best friend. Dad said, "Sal." Sal Melchior is an old buddy of my dad's. And, of course, Mom answered, "Ginny."
5:07 pm est

Thursday, November 24, 2005

The Purpose of This Blog
 
While I was in Pennsylvania visiting my parents I heard from my wife that one of my mom's friends had read the blog and was alarmed by its contents. I called the friend and asked her reaction to the blog. She felt that I was over-dramatizing my mother's condition, and she was worried that it was affecting me emotionally.
 
In a way, this is a good reaction. I'm writing this blog so others can read it and react. I don't expect everyone will see things my way. And I hope to hear from anyone who has additional information or another opinion about issues I've raised.
 
As I say in the introduction to the blog, "I will tell you my perspective." I understand that my perspective is subjective and not necessarily the truth. But I felt it would be more of a service to everyone else if I was honest and frank about what I see and what I feel. You judge if I'm right.
 
Also, if you have read several entries in my blog, you'll see that it is a "hybrid blog" -- both a diary and a research blog with lots of links to other sites on the web where you can get expert information about Alzheimer's Disease. Since it is a research blog, I don't always write about my mother. I'm trying to understand the bigger picture, so I write about other people, other families, and other situations. For example, I've written about Tom DeBaggio, the gentleman in Virginia who came down with early-onset Alzheimer's Disease. Mr. DeBaggio is still alive, six years after contracting Alzheimer's. He has written a new book, When It Gets Dark: An Enlightened Reflection on Life with Alzheimer's. And he appears in two 2005 National Public Radio broadcasts, along with his wife Joyce in a story entitled, Tom DeBaggio's Alzheimer's Journey Continues.
 
I've also written about Jeff Stewart and his family in North Carolina. Like Tom DeBaggio, Jeff Stewart has early-onset Alzheimer's Disease.
 
Why have I written about these other families? Partly because they present heroic examples of families coping with the tragedy of this disease. In addition, I write about them because Alzheimer's is on my mind, too. I dwell on the disease. How can I not? My mother is suffering from its effects, and I worry daily that I may get it, too. Maybe I'll get it sooner. Maybe not. But it does bother me.
 
Our family friend said that my mom is coping well with Alzheimer's and is still largely the person she has been for all of her 81 years. This is true -- and not true. My mom is an extraordinary individual. With or without Alzheimer's, she is still remarkable. But it is easy to see after spending a day or two with her how her life has been affected by this disease. Fred and His Mom
 
I think this blog is on the right track. My father said that Mom might not recognize any of us in another year. So I'm focusing my attention on Mom right now. I want to learn as much as I can and I want to help my dad and be with mom as much as I can. I'm so blessed to have Elizabeth McComas D'Ignazio as my mother. It's important that I remember that blessing every day that she is still part of my life.
2:56 pm est

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

"She Just Gained Another Five I.Q. Points"
 
I've recently returned from a five-day visit with my mom and dad in Pennsylvania. My folks just celebrated their 58th wedding anniversary; they have been married since 1947. During this time they have fought with each other, struggled together, achieved great success together, and forged an enduring love. They are a remarkable couple.
 
When I travel up from North Carolina to visit them I stay in the back bedroom of their tiny, first-floor apartment. I love being with them and sharing in their daily routines. It also gives some respite to my father. After the onset of Mom's Alzheimer's disease, he has been her primary caregiver (see my blog), and this has worn him pretty thin. After all, he is 88 years old. He does a great job looking after my mom, but he is hampered by his heart condition and his acute arthritis, and he is on medication. My mom has suffered a significant loss in her memory, but she is physically as robust as ever. Keeping up with my mom wears out my dad.
 
My mom's Alzheimer's Disease causes her to forget many of the details she needs to get through her day. Nothing is obvious to my mom any more. So she is always asking my dad to help her do things and find things. When she can't figure something out, or if dad isn't at hand, she immediately gets angry and frustrated. She lashes out, and usually my dad is her target.
 
Most of the time Dad is extraordinarily patient with Mom. He endures her bad tempers and her explosive outbursts with good humor. He responds with quiet answers to her barked questions and outcry. But sometimes he loses his patience and returns to the kind of needling he used to do when they were younger and before Mom came down with Alzheimer's.
 
When he does this, I freeze. I look over at Mom, and she has that tough, bulldog look on her face. Her lips get thin, her eyes narrow, and I fear she is going to jump on him and throttle him.
 
Of course she doesn't do anything. But her look is menacing. And does my dad back off? Instead he keeps stirring the pot, saying things that I know are bound to heat up her Scotch-Irish temper to the boiling point.
 
I wait for the explosion. But after a few angry exchanges wth Dad, Mom backs off.
 
When I was at home this time I asked Dad why he does this. Is it because he can't take it any more?
 
His answer surprised me. "I do it," he told me, "to bring her back. I watch her sinking deeper and deeper inside herself. She gets that glazed look on her face, and I don't like that. When I get her temper going, she bounces back."
 
After Dad told me this, I watched the two of them even more carefully. Sure enough. Every time they had a spat, Mom would become more animated, more aware of her surroundings, and more like her old self. It was amazing. The effect was temporary but significant.
 
"Each time I stir your mother up," my dad said, "it's like she gains another five I.Q. points. You have a very smart mother. And we get to see a little bit of how smart she is each time I rile her up. You have to interact with her. You can't let her wander off on her own. Keep her body moving, and keep her mind engaged, even if it's to fuss at me. I can take it."
1:12 pm est

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

"She Is The First Person Who Recognized Me"
 
Two days ago, on Sunday, I went with my mom to her church in Media. Mom has attended this church for over fifty years. (See my blog.) The service was beautiful. Before and during the service Mom kept leaning over and whispering to me. She reminded me that she has worked in almost every part of the church doing volunteer activities. She reminded me that she has been a member of her church since the 1940s. Yet no one knew her. Not a single person came up to her and greeted her during the service.
 
It wasn't until the end. As we were leaving a woman approached Mom and greeted her and said she was happy to see Mom.
 
Mom beamed. After the woman left, she said, "She is the first person here who recognized me. I've been coming here for more than 50 years, and she is the first one who knew me."
 
The truth is that no one did know mom. At 81 Mom has outlasted most of her friends and contemporaries. If they are still alive, they are not attending church services.
 
This is a sad corollary of longevity--i.e., loneliness. If you live long enough, your friends all pass away. And, after awhile, no one knows you. You, who were one of the first people on the scene, are treated as if you are a newcomer.
10:07 pm est

Friday, November 18, 2005

"Things Are Just Moving Faster."
 
This is the advice my mom's friend, Phyl Di Paola, had for my mom at lunch yesterday. Phyl, like the rest of us, is conscious of mom's loss of memory. But Phyl is also sensitive to the anxiety mom feels when she can't remember. She was trying to reassure Mom that at least part of what she is experiencing is due to the faster pace of life, and not to mom's own forgetfulness.
 
My mom thanked her friend with considerable emotion, and I knew Phyl had made mom feel better.
 
I'm up here in Pennsylvania, visiting with my mom and dad for five days. What I've observed, so far, has been very ambiguous. I've watched mom carefully ever since I arrived yesterday morning.
 
When I walked in the front door, laden with suitcases, Mom looked thrilled to see me. She was well groomed and dressed stylishly, as always, with a blouse, skirt, and jacket, all in autumnal colors. She had prepared my room for my arrival. She had bought fresh flowers to greet me.
 
The moment after I arrived, Mom rushed me out the door. She drove me around town doing errands -- getting a newspaper, taking clothes to the cleaners. She was chatty and drove well. She seemed oriented at all times, as she weaved through streets full of traffic and road construction.
 
At the cleaners she was sharp: she remembered the clothes she had brought earlier in the week, and she was assertive, yet friendly, with the lady behind the counter.
 
After we returned back to mom and dad's apartment, Mom had a moment of anxiety when she couldn't find her purse. She became flustered and rushed around the apartment, looking for the purse and muttering to herself.
 
Later in the day, my father met with me and my two brothers and sister about caregiving arrangements he was making for himself and mom. We were talking about identity bracelets, and how he and Mom both needed ID bracelets in case of emergency. Dad is almost 88, he has high blood pressure and has been warned that he might suffer a stroke at any time. Mom has been diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer's Disease. In case he passed out or Mom became disoriented, a bracelet would tell people who they were, whom to call, and give some basic data about their blood type and health conditions.
 
My dad's accountant, who is a close family advisor said, "Do you know what is the first item that women with Alzheimer's misplace? It is their purse. They lose their purse. Then if they can't identify themselves, without an ID bracelet, there is no telling who they are or how to care for them. They become a 'Jane Doe.'"
 
 
 
 
7:45 am est

Thursday, November 17, 2005

"We Have Something Better. We Have Each Other."
 
This was what my mom's friend said to us as we sat with her over lunch today at my dad's restaurant in Media, PA.  My mom, Libby D'Ignazio, and her friend, Phyl Di Paola, have been friends since the early 1950s.
 
"But we almost missed becoming friends," said Phyl. "The first time we came here, the restaurant was just a one-room bar. I remember walking out this door over here (she points to the door behind my mother). My husband Ray followed me out on the street calling, "Phyl! Phyl! What's wrong?" I was in a huff, and I said. "I'm never going back there again."
 
"Why did you say that?" I asked.
 
"I don't remember," Phyl said. "Shortly after that dinner, your mom and I met, and your dad hired Ray to be his architect to build the restaurant. We've been friends ever since. And I've been coming here for more than fifty years."
 
Over and over, our conversation returned to memories. The women told stories to each other, and laughed and reminisced. I felt we were in 2005, then in in 1955, and then somewhere in between.
 
According to Tom DeBaggio in Losing My Mind (see yesterday's blog):
Memory is a mental stabilizer and without it the mind becomes chaotic and unstructured, allowing 1999 and 1940 to merge.
My dad sat down with us and he, too, began to reminisce. "Remember the Depression?" he said. "It was a tough time, but a good time, too. That's when we learned the greatest lesson--how to survive. I remember working at Superior Market, up on State Street. I worked all week long, just so I could take home a turkey on Thanksgiving Day. I couldn't believe I'd done it. The turkey was worth over two dollars."
 
Mom responded with a memory of her own: "My lesson was patience," she said. "You worked so hard at the restaurant that I barely saw you. For the first fifteen years of our marriage, we saw each other only enough to have kids."
 
"We used to have a lot of energy in those days, didn't we," said Phyl.
 
"We did," agreed my mom.
 
"That's okay," said Phyl. "Now we have something better. We have our memories. And we have each other."
 
10:28 pm est

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Losing My Mind
 
I've always been a bit absent-minded and forgetful. So when I learned that my Mom has Alzheimer's Disease I felt more than moderate anxiety. I wondered: Will I develop Alzheimer's like my Mom? If so, when will I first notice it? And even worse: do I have the gene markers for early-onset Alzheimer's? (See yesterday's blog post.)
 
I know that I can't "catch" Alzheimer's Disease from my mom. (See my blog post.) But now I see every bit of random forgetfulness as another sign of early-onset Alzheimer's.
 
A book that puts my worries into proper perspective is Thomas DeBaggio's Losing My Mind. Tom's first symptoms of Alzheimer's Disease, forgetfulness and inability to concentrate, began when he was just 56 years old -- exactly my age.
 
My symptoms are lightweight compared to Tom's symptoms. When he first receives his Alzheimer's diagnosis from the neurologist, he writes:Losing My Mind by Thomas DeBaggio
A new world greets me every morning now. I will never see myself or the world the same way. I must cling to optimism and avoid depression, but today I am so shattered I can hardly hold a word, phrase, or sentence long enough to acknowledge it and put it on paper. It is as if I received a death sentence and I have to begin a circumscribed life in a prison of fear. I see myself differently, almost as if a death ray penetrated me. I look in a mirror and discover I am crying.
The book is a brutally honest, unblinking account of what the author sees, feels, and thinks as he sinks into Alzheimer's Disease. He is an excellent writer and he weaves accounts of his trips to the doctors with historical recollections of his early life, and he inserts startling, stream of consciousness passages like the one above. Yet the book is also uplifting as you see the man's naked spirit exposed. He is a good man and he chooses writing this book over taking experimental drugs so that he can act as an explorer of the disease and report back to the rest of us what it is like.
 
His sad and tormented passages are balanced with comments like: "Now is the last best time" and "What better way to die than to celebrate life!"
 
 
10:14 am est

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Early-Onset Alzheimer's Disease
 
Last year I was at one of my church's Tuesday Morning Prayer Breakfasts. I was seated to the left of a nice looking fellow who appeared to be about 40 or 45. He introduced himself as Jeff. He seemed friendly, but there was something a little odd about him that I couldn't pin down. Being the overly sensitive person I am I took it personally and wondered if he was mad at me, or if I had offended him. When I talked to him about my family, he seemed to be tuning out, as if he thought what I said wasn't important. What was his problem? He and I had known each other ten minutes. How could he be mad at me?
 
Later, after the breakfast was over, I talked with one of my church buddies, Scott Rose. I had noticed that he and Jeff were friends. Scott told me, "He's not mad at you, Fred. Far from it. Jeff's not mad at anyone. What Jeff's got is early-onset Alzheimer's Disease."
 
EARLY-STAGE ALZHEIMER'S vs. EARLY-ONSET ALZHEIMER'S
 
Early-stage Alzheimer's Disease is the first point when tests show that an individual is ill.  Most people do not get Alzheimer's Disease before the age of 65. If someone does get Alzheimer's before the age of 65 it is called early-onset Alzheimer's. According to the Alzheimer's Association:
Early-onset individuals may be employed or have children still living at home. Issues facing families include ensuring financial security, obtaining benefits and helping children cope with the disease.
Approximately 6%-10% of persons with Alzheimer's have the early-onset form of the disease.
 
CAUSES OF EARLY-ONSET ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE
 
Here are some of the major causes of early-onset Alzheimer's Disease:
  • Inherited genetic defects in chromosomes 1, 14 or 21. This defect is associated with the brain's production of betyl-amyloid which is related to the fatty amyloid deposits that are found, postmortem, in the brains of all Alzheimer's sufferers.
  • Down's Syndrome is caused by a defect in chromosome 21. People with Down's Syndrome have an increased risk of contracting Alzheimer's.
JEFF AND HIS FAMILY
 
Jeff and his family are profiled in an article in Triangle Senior Living's Alzheimer's Guide. (You can request a free copy of the guide by clicking here.)
 
Jeff has a wife, Judy, and two daughters, MacKenzie, 13, and Jenna, 11. According to the guide, the whole family is coping with Jeff's Alzheimer's as well as can be expected, but the daughters "have had to grow up much faster than other kids their age." Judy says, "There are so many aspects that are beyond overwhelming."
 
According to the guide:Jeff Stewart and his family
Judy began noticing a decline in Jeff shortly after his mother died of Alzheimer's in April 2002. The couple was fighting more often, he was frequently tired, he even ran a red light. Then she found out he had been terminated from his job, in March 2003. That was the catalyst that got them to the doctor. After seeing five doctors in five weeks, Jeff finally received his diagnosis from Dr. Donald Schmechel at Duke.
Judy is a self-sufficient person, but she realized that Jeff's disease created more problems than one person could handle. "You think you've got everything done, then 20,000 other things come up," she admits.
 
Fortunately Judy did seek help -- from their friends, their church, and from the local chapter of the Alzheimer's Association. The chapter helped Judy quickly find expert physicians, family counseling and a day care facility for Jeff.
 
Jeff's disease kept progressing until Judy had to make the difficult decision to put Jeff into an assisted living facility with a special care unit for people with dementia. "Who can imagine being 42 and looking for a nursing home for your husband?" she confides.
 
The family continues to grapple with each stage of the disease as Jeff's condition worsens:
There are no easy answers here, no happy endings. Judy is in the unenviable position very familiar to those whose loved ones have dementia. She has started the grieving process of losing Jeff, while still having a husband.
 
She realizes she has to start thinking about death. Maybe it will be one year, maybe five--she doesn't know. The hardest thing to deal with these days is Jeff's continual decline. "The challenge of every day is watching him change," she says.
3:01 pm est

Monday, November 14, 2005

Memories of Mom -- Preparing the Lord's Supper
 
Mom has been a member of the Altar Guild of her church for 56 years. (Note to self: I'm 56! I'm wondering if there is a connection between my birth and Mom deciding she needed to leave home and start volunteering at her church.)
 
Mom's church in Media, PA.
On countless Saturdays for the past half century my mom could be found either at Christ Church in Media, PA, or at St. John's by the Sea in Avalon, New Jersey. She wasn't giving sermons or counseling church members. She was working quietly behind the scenes preparing the church altar for Sunday service.
 
As president of the two churches' altar guilds her job was one of those dozens of church chores that are noticed only if they are left undone.  Each Saturday afternoon she showed up at church and prepared for the next day's communion service. She brought church linens that she had washed at home. She straightened the altar and arranged the fresh linens. She carefully set up the communion wafers, wine and water atop the altar. She hunted down collection plates and church candles and arranged them on the altar.
 
Mom on her way to church in the 1960sWhy has she done this routine for 56 years? I called her yesterday on the phone and asked her this question. Her answer: "I do it because it makes me feel good. I like going to church when it is all quiet. I like moving around quietly, helping prepare for Sunday's service. I think of it as my ministry."
 
When the service is over Mom goes back to the altar. She cleans the altar and puts everything away. Then she takes the linens home to launder them for the next week.
 
Mom has been doing this job conscientiously since I was born. Maybe someone asked her to do it, long ago. Certainly no one told her to do it for fifty-six years. She just does it.
 
When I telephoned Mom yesterday, I could hear my dad in the background at their house. "God knows what you've done, Libby," he said. "He's reserved a special place for you in Heaven."
11:11 am est

Friday, November 11, 2005

It's My Birthday!
 
I am going home to Pennsylvania next Thursday to visit my mom and dad. On Saturday, while I'm at home, my Dad will celebrate his 87th birthday.
 
Mom and her cake from her niece ShannonYesterday I called my mom. I call her almost every day. We don't talk very long, but Mom always seems really happy to talk with me, and I love talking with her. I treasure our daily conversations. I soak up the affection in her voice, trying to store it away for the day when it might be gone.
 
Each time I call Mom, I listen for signs of the Alzheimer's Disease, either in her voice or in the things she says. If I keep the conversations brief, she seems her old self: all energy, motion, and love of life. But even in these brief conversations the disease finds a way of slipping in.
 
This happened yesterday. We were talking about the weather, what she and dad were doing, how my brothers and sisters were doing. As I do almost every day, I reminded her that I was coming up there next week. "I'll be coming up a week from today," I said. "I can't wait."Happy 81st Birthday, Mom!
 
Mom responded, "Oh, that's perfect, Freddie. You'll be here in time for my birthday!"
 
For a moment I was silent. It's November. Mom's birthday was on August 20th when she turned 81. The birthday next week is Dad's, not Mom's. I was tongue-tied. What should I say?
 
The research on Alzheimer's Disease says that caregivers of a person with Alzheimer's are not supposed to correct the person or argue with them, even if what they say is simply not true. First of all, it does no good. A moment after you have successfully "corrected" the person, they will not remember what you said. Second, it agitates them and creates a downward spiral of frustration, anxiety and sense of incompetence that aggravates the effects of memory loss.
 
So I bit my tongue. I shed a silent tear. And I said: "Great, Mom. I can't wait. I'm excited, too."
 
[If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
 
 
9:11 am est

Thursday, November 10, 2005

What is the Sundown Syndrome?
 
Mom and her sunsetI visited my mom this past summer at her seashore home in Avalon, New Jersey, for her 81st birthday. While I was there I noticed that she was fascinated with sunsets. Every night Mom made a beeline to the back dock behind the house so she could watch the sun set over the bay.
 
After the sun set I noticed that mom seemed less energetic and more at loose ends. She would sit in front of the TV with an unreadable expression on her face. Or she would get up and frantically pick things up around the house or straighten up. Her favorite chore after dark was to adjust all the blinds on the windows. She zoomed from room to room, raising and lowering blinds until each one was just right.
 
I never gave her behavior much thought until this fall I told a friend about mom's fascination with sunsets. My friend's mom has Alzheimer's Disease, like my mom. "Oh, yes," my friend said, knowingly. "That's a common thing. It's called the Sundown Syndrome."
 
Just what is the Sundown Syndrome? Here's a definition from US News & World Report's Health Report:Sunsets are important to many people with dementia.
Sundown syndrome--also called sundowning or sunsetting--is a behavior common in people with Alzheimer's disease. It describes the episodes of confusion, anxiety, agitation, or disorientation that often occur at dusk and into the evening hours. The episodes may last a few hours or throughout the night.
The Sundown Syndrome can be draining for a person with Alzheimer's. The US News report offers some tips to help caregivers cope with this problem:
  • Schedule your day so that the more difficult tasks are done early in the day, when the person is less likely to become agitated.
  • Watch the person's diet and eating habits. Restrict sweets and drinks with caffeine to the morning hours. Try serving the person a late afternoon snack or an early dinner. To help the person relax, try decaffeinated herbal tea or warm milk.
  • Keep the house or room well lit. Close the drapes before the sun goes down, so the person doesn't watch it become dark outside.
  • If the person falls asleep on the sofa or in a chair, let him or her stay there. Don't wake the person to go to bed.
  • Try distracting the person with activities he or she enjoys. Soothing music or a favorite video may help, as well.
  • Encourage the person to engage in some physical activity--such as walking, if able--during the day. This may help him or her to sleep better at night.
As you'll see in the next article below ("What If Mom Lived in a Reminiscence Neighborhood"), assisted-living caregivers know all about the Sundown Syndrome, and they have strategies to help their residents work around it.
 
For more information about the Sundown Syndrome go to About.com. Melody Conklin describes the problem she is having with her dad who has Alzheimer's, and Mary Gordon, the About.com expert, tries to help her.
 
[If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
11:56 am est

Wednesday, November 9, 2005

What If Mom Lived in a Reminiscence Neighborhood
 
Yesterday I had the opportunity to talk with a representative from Sunrise Senior Living. Sunrise has three communities here in Raleigh and over 400 communities around the rest of the country. It features assisted-living facilities for seniors with and without dementia.
 
(My contact chose to remain anonymous, so let's call her Susan.)
 
I asked Susan if Sunrise had reminiscence kits (see yesterday's blog posting). Susan said, no, but they had memory boxes (see my blog from yesterday). They also had reminiscence neighborhoods. A reminiscence neighborhood, according to Susan, is a space set apart in a hallway or other common area in a Sunrise community. In that space the staff of Sunrise places items that are designed to trigger a person's memory of past activities in their life.
 
At least some of the Sunrise facilities have four floors. Two of the floors are for regular, assisted-living residents. The other two floors are memory care floors for residents who have some form of dementia (including Alzheimer's Disease). These floors are safe, secure environments and have locked doors to prevent residents from wandering off.

The reminiscence neighborhoods are set up on the memory care floors. Each neighborhood is really a "station" with a group of items centered around a particular activity. Here are some reminiscence neighborhoods at Susan's facility:
  • Mothering neighborhood -- includes a baby doll, diapers, a stroller, and baby clothing
  • Office neighborhood -- includes a typewriter, a desk, and an unplugged telephone
  • Sewing neighborhood -- an unplugged sewing machine (with noA Reminiscence Neighborhood needle), swaths of fabric, and spools of thread
  • Knitting neighborhood -- knitting needles, skeins of different colored yarn
  • Golfing neighborhood -- golf balls, a golf bag, golf clubs

The types of neighborhoods depend on the life profile of the residents of the memory care floors at a Sunrise facility. If a person's record shows they used to work most of their life in an office, the staff at Sunrise will assemble an office neighborhood. Likewise, if a person played a lot of golf earlier in their life, the staff will set up a golfing neighborhood. The types of neighborhoods are flexible and can be adapted to the profiles of the current mix of residents.

Susan said that the reminiscence neighborhoods have a powerful calming effect on the memory care residents. For example, as the day concludes and the light fades outside the center some of the residents experience the sundowning effect (see my blog tomorrow) and become depressed or agitated. The staff notes which residents are prone to sundowning and anticipate this problem by leading the residents to one of the reminiscence neighborhoods. According to Susan, the neighborhoods immediately engage the resident, and as they go through the actions of activities they've done all their lives, they grow more calm and relaxed.

According to Susan, it is important that the staff be trained to facilitate the residents' use of the reminiscence neighborhoods. She said residents shouldn't be led to the neighborhoods and then left. It was important for the staff to play-act and orient the resident to the activities (working at the desk, sewing, caring for the "baby," etc.) before they left the area.

"One of the biggest strengths of a Sunrise staff," she said, "is our constant training. We are trained when we begin work at a Sunrise community. And we receive ongoing training while we work at the community."

Susan said she had two tips for anyone dealing with seniors who are suffering from dementia:

  1. How you talk to the person is important. Susan sees lots of relatives trying to correct their family members when they make memory mistakes. Susan says that family members have to remember that this is an incurable disease and the memory can not be "set straight." Relatives can't fix the person's memory, but they can agitate the person and make them even more uncomfortable than they already are.
  2. It is important to use the right words. Professional caregivers stay away from words like "dementia" and "Alzheimer's Disease" when they are talking to residents. Words such as these only increase a resident's agitation and feeling of insecurity. Instead, for example, the staff at Sunrise might use words like "memory care" and "did you have one of your pleasant days" when they talk with residents.
     
    [If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
4:17 pm est

Tuesday, November 8, 2005

Can Mementos Recapture Memories?
 
Reminiscence Kits are a hot item in retirement homes and communities these days. They are based, in part, on the outreach programs organized by librarians and museum educators in the UK and Canada in the early 1990s, in which exhibits are set up for seniors to use to reconstruct the historical context of their lives. This practice has spread to the U.S. and has extended beyond libraries and museums to other agencies that interact with seniors. According to a US Department of Education publication:
Reminiscence programming for older adults allows them to validate and analyze their experiences and sometimes share them with another generation, either through direct interaction or through recording in print or on tape.
Reminiscence kits can appeal to all of a person's five senses: seeing hearing, tasting, touching, and smelling. Examples of items that might appear in a reminiscence kit are:
 
  • Diplomas
  • Old scrapbooks
  • Photos 
  • Jewelry
  • Clothing
  • Music
  • Crafts, embroidery, samplers
  • Pressed flowers
  • Pets
  • Sports equipment
  • Anything related to life accomplishments

    A Life Story in a Box

    Residents of the Memory Support Unit of Classic Residence by Hyatt Care Center all have memory boxes in front of their rooms. The boxes serve to calm and relax the residents, and they act as "apartment numbers" for the residents to identify their rooms.

    They also act as "triggers" that spark residents' long-term memories. Memory boxes help seniors recapture memories.In "There's a Story Behind Every Item in the Box," Marsha Kay Seff writes in The San Diego Union-Tribune about the memory box in front of Willma McFarlane's apartment door:

    The pretty porcelain bride and groom in her memory box sat atop 89-year-old Willma McFarlane's wedding cake more than 65 years ago. She was married for almost 54 years when her husband died, she says, pointing out the yellow porcelain flower that was a present from him.

    "The Haviland China plate with the red roses belonged to a one-time set of 122 dishes, painted by her mother's aunt. Most of the them broke in 1929, when the family moved from Michigan to California and the trained lurched," according to Louise Engleman, one of two daughters.

    "You didn't ask me who that is," McFarlane says, pointing to a photo in her memory box. "It's my senior granddaughter, my first born. She's cute . . . and smart, too."

    Engleman reminds her mom, "It's your great-granddaughter. You have four grandchildren and two great-granddaughters."

    Your Life Is a Tapestry

    Anything that evokes vivid memories can appear in a memory box or reminiscence kit. The main objective is to help a senior recapture memories from their life. According to the CNN Report "Mementos Preserve Memories:"

    The bright spots in life's tapestryYour life is like a tapestry, woven from your memories of people and events. Some threads are dark, while others are bright. Your individual tapestry shines vividly in your mind, reminding you of who you are, where you've been and what you've done.

    Alzheimer's disease gradually robs people of the memories that make up their tapestries. You can help mend these holes by creating a tangible repository of memories — in a scrapbook, videotape or audiotape.

    Nostalgic Music and Videos Help Stimulate Memories

    As part of a three-year study funded by the national Alzheimer's Association, environmental psychologist, Dr. Richard Olson, studied the responses of dementia patients to old-time music and videos, as compared to the regular activities offered through eldercare programs. According to Olson, the difference in the patients' reactions was "dramatic:"

    "Even people who normally slept or withdrew from activities suchMusic is the strongest memory trigger. as sewing, bingo and card games were engaged by musical selections from the '30s and '40s," said Olsen. "They would smile and keep time with the music, sing along with the lyrics, and some even got up and danced."

    Olson said that his Musical Memory Lane project appealed to patients even in the more advanced stages of dementia because:

    Long-term memory seems to last well into the later stages, and music is often the last stimulus to which dementia patients respond.

    Can a Video Recapture Memories?

    Each one of us can assemble a reminiscence kit for our parents, grandparents, and older friends. One of the best ways to organize the kit is in the form of a life story -- a chronicle that takes the person from their birth right up to the present. A life story validates the person and celebrates their life. In the CNN article above, the reporter interviewed Dr. Glenn Smith, a neuropsychologist at Mayo Clinic:

    Remembering life's accomplishments"By creating a life story, you affirm for your loved one all the positive things he or she has done in life and can still do," says Dr. Smith. "Even after your relative's memories start to fade, creating a life story shows that you value and respect his or her legacy. It also reminds you who your loved one was before Alzheimer's disease."

    One of the best ways to create a life story is to use a video. All of the elements that are in a reminiscence kit (old clothing, photos, music, scrapbooks, etc.) can be videotaped in chronological order. This process creates a life story narrative. A person can watch all these elements come together on a TV screen. If the video also contains interviews with members of the family and friends, then it goes beyond a reminiscence kit. Pieces of other people's memories are also captured on the video and create the larger tapestry that makes up a person's life.

    The Video Biography Project

    Dr. Gene Cohen of George Washington University and the National Institute of Aging has created a video biography project, modeled after the video biographies produced by the historian Ken Burns. Dr. Cohen created this project after his own father became afflicted with Alzheimer's Disease.

    NBC News did a TV special on one of Cohen's client families after Bessie, the mother, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. For six years, Bessie's son Sam watched helplessly as his mother's disease stole her away from him. Eventually Bessie had to be moved to an institution that specializes in care for seniors with Alzheimer's

    The video that Sam created gave him reason to hope. It wasn't complicated. He just took the family's video camera and used it to record old photographs and other mementos. Still, what he came up with was a very personal movie.

    Sam didn't know what to expect. He was afraid that his mother wouldn't remember anything on the video. He went to the Alzheimer's facility and sat down with his mother in front of the TV. The two of them, mother and son, watched the movie together.

    After the video was over, Sam was excited. "I feel like today is one of the better experiences I've had with my Mother in months," he said. He told NBC interviewers that he planned to add new new materials to the video and show it to his mother over and over.

    Dr. Cohen is optimistic, too. He knows that video biographies cannot slow the inevitable progress of Alzheimer's. On the other hand, the videos are valuable because "they can bring a son and a mother together once again."

    [If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
  • 12:48 pm est

    Monday, November 7, 2005

    Can I Lower My Risk of Getting Alzheimer's Disease?

    In my post entitled "Can I Catch Alzheimer's from my Mom" I talked about my fears of getting Alzheimer's Disease. I dismissed the fear of getting "infected" by my Mom. But I uncovered research that shows that children of parents with Alzheimer's Disease are more likely to come down with Alzheimer's as they age. This is not encouraging. Is there anything I can do to lower that risk?

    Fortunately, there is. According to the research at Harvard University School of Medicine, there are seven preventive steps you can take:
    • Exercise
    • Keep learning
    • Don't smoke
    • Maintain a healthy diet
    • Get a good night's sleep
    • Consider taking multi-vitamins
    • Cultivate close ties with others

    None of these steps is a magic bullet. Even if you follow these steps you could still come down with Alzheimer's Disease. However, each step has proven to be a factor in lowering the risk of developing Alzheimer's.

    In a report entitled "Maintaining Your Memory" for ABC-TV (Chicago)  Sylvia Perez writes:

    The numbers are startling. More than four million Americans have Alzheimer's disease. By 2050, more than 13 million could be living with it. But what you do today could keep you from becoming a statistic.

    "I'm just a true believer. You make time for nutrition and exercise now, or you make time for disease later," said Tavis Piattolly, nutrition expert.

    Ms. Perez recommends the following steps to help you lower your risk of getting Alzheimer's:

    • Exercise your brain - keep your brain active, play cards, solve puzzles, make plans, keep lists, volunteer in your church or your community, take on challenging jobs and tasks.
    • Take niacin - in a recent study people who took niacin dramatically lowered their risk of contracting Alzheimer's Disease. (People who took 22 mg of Niacin a day lowered their risk by 80%.)
    • Eat more fruits and vegetables.
    • Eat more foods with B-12 vitamins, folic acid, and fish oil. (People who eat fish at least one time per week lowered their risk by 60%.)
    • Maintain your overall health, especially your blood pressure and sugar (insulin) levels.
    You can get a great overview of how to "protect" your brain from the effects of Alzheimer's Disease and from aging at Franklin Institute Online. According to a great article entitled "The Human Brain:"
    Neurons in the human brainThe human brain is able to continually adapt and rewire itself. Even in old age, it can grow new neurons. Severe mental decline is usually caused by disease, whereas most age-related losses in memory or motor skills simply result from inactivity and a lack of mental exercise and stimulation. In other words, use it or lose it.
     Throughout human history physical exercise was not something we chose to do (or ignore). It was a necessity. We woke up and did hard physical labor all day long. And when we wanted to go somewhere, we walked. Walking wasn't just aerobic exercise, it was transportation.
     
    Dominicanos all exercise -- by necessity.When my daughter Laura and I went to the Dominican Republic last year on a church medical mission, we were surprised to find that many older people were in excellent physical and mental health. They suffered from the poor sanitary and hygiene conditions present in a third-world country. But even 80- and 90-year-old patients at our little makeshift village clinics were physically and mentally stronger than people the same age in the U.S. The reason? Their lives were hard, and they ate simply. They didn't have all the food available at Wendy's, MacDonald's and well-stocked grocery stores. And they walked everywhere and did manual labor from dawn till dusk.
     
    I don't recommend we drop all our conveniences in the U.S. But all our labor-saving devices carry a down side along with their benefits. The more we eat processed food and cut back on our physical and mental exercise, the more we are prone to a physical and mental decline as we age.
     
    Is it important to "exercise" each day like a citizen from a third-world country? Happily, no! It turns out that we can stay physically and mentally more fit just by walking more. According to the same Franklin Institute article:

    Studies of senior citizens who walk regularly showed significant improvement in memory skills compared to sedentary elderly people.

    Walking also improved their learning ability, concentration, and abstract reasoning. Stroke risk was cut by 57% in people who walked as little as 20 minutes a day.

    All this research is reassuring. As our brains age it is not inevitable for them to lose brain cells and "wither:"
    Contrary to popular myth, you do not lose mass quantities of brains cells as you get older. "There isn't much difference between a 25-year old brain and a 75-year old brain," says Dr. Monte S. Buchsbaum, who has scanned a lot of brains as director of the Neuroscience PET Laboratory at Mount Sinai School of Medicine.

    Cognitive decline is not inevitable. When 6,000 older people were given mental tests throughout a ten-year period, almost 70% continued to maintain their brain power as they aged.

    Certain areas of the brain, however, are more prone to damage and deterioration over time. One is the hippocampus , which transfers new memories to long-term storage elsewhere in the brain. Another vulnerable area is the basal ganglia, which coordinates commands to move muscles. Research indicates that mental exercise can improve these areas and positively affect memory and physical coordination.

    So for most of us, including children of parents with Alzheimer's Disease, the outlook is positive. On the other hand, whether or not we have a family history of Alzheimer's, it helps to stay physically and mentally active and watch what we eat. It isn't a failsafe cure for an aging brain, but it might keep us sharp longer. And we'll probably feel better, too.

    [If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
    2:04 pm est

    Friday, November 4, 2005

    Can I Catch Alzheimer's Disease from Mom?
     
    On the surface this seems like a ridiculous question. All medical reports that I have read say there is no way you can catch Alzheimer's Disease from another person, even your own mother.
     
    On the other hand, if you are related to a person with Alzheimer's, it may increase your chances for catching the disease. According to Info Aging:
    Having a family history of Alzheimer's disease increases your risk of developing it ... Those with one parent with the disease have a 1.5 times greater chance of developing it, and those with two afflicted parents have a 5 times higher than average risk.
     

    Also, as you age, your chances for Alzheimer's Disease increase:

    The risk of developing Alzheimer's disease increases with increasing age up to about age 90. Researchers estimate that as many as 50% of those over 85 have the disease.

    Do I have Alzheimer's Disease?I'm 56 years old, and I worry every day that I may be in the early stages of Alzheimer's. I am often forgetful, my short-term memory seems to have vanished, and every time I struggle to remember someone's name, the thought occurs to me that maybe this is an early symptom of my Alzheimer's. Or if I go down to the kitchen to get something and then can't remember what it was I wanted, I think: Is this how it feels to have Alzheimer's?

    Fortunately, the Alzheimer's Association has published a helpful list of the ten warning signs for Alzheimer's:

    1. Memory loss. Forgetting recently learned information is one of the most common early signs of dementia. A person begins to forget more often and is unable to recall the information later.

    What's normal? Forgetting names or appointments occasionally.

    2. Difficulty performing familiar tasks. People with dementia often find it hard to plan or complete everyday tasks. Individuals may lose track of the steps involved in preparing a meal, placing a telephone call or playing a game.

    What's normal? Occasionally forgetting why you came into a room or what you planned to say.

    3. Problems with language. People with Alzheimer’s disease often forget simple words or substitute unusual words, making their speech or writing hard to understand. They may be unable to find the toothbrush, for example, and instead ask for "that thing for my mouth.”

    What's normal? Sometimes having trouble finding the right word.

    4. Disorientation to time and place. People with Alzheimer’s disease can become lost in their own neighborhood, forget where they are and how they got there, and not know how to get back home.

    What's normal? Forgetting the day of the week or where you were going.

    5. Poor or decreased judgment. Those with Alzheimer’s may dress inappropriately, wearing several layers on a warm day or little clothing in the cold. They may show poor judgment, like giving away large sums of money to telemarketers.

    What's normal? Making a questionable or debatable decision from time to time.

    6. Problems with abstract thinking. Someone with Alzheimer’s disease may have unusual difficulty performing complex mental tasks, like forgetting what numbers are for and how they should be used.

    What's normal? Finding it challenging to balance a checkbook.

    7. Misplacing things. A person with Alzheimer’s disease may put things in unusual places: an iron in the freezer or a wristwatch in the sugar bowl.

    What's normal? Misplacing keys or a wallet temporarily.

    8. Changes in mood or behavior. Someone with Alzheimer’s disease may show rapid mood swings – from calm to tears to anger – for no apparent reason.

    What's normal? Occasionally feeling sad or moody.

    9. Changes in personality. The personalities of people with dementia can change dramatically. They may become extremely confused, suspicious, fearful or dependent on a family member.

    What's normal? People’s personalities do change somewhat with age.

    10. Loss of initiative. A person with Alzheimer’s disease may become very passive, sitting in front of the TV for hours, sleeping more than usual or not wanting to do usual activities.

    What's normal? Sometimes feeling weary of work or social obligations.

    [If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
    11:40 am est

    Thursday, November 3, 2005

    Health Problems Accelerate Alzheimer's
     
    My dad and my brother Owsley took my mom to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, early in the summer. They came back and told me that the doctors at Mayo had confirmed that Mom had Alzheimer's. They also said that Mom had a clean bill of health, except for the Alzheimer's. This felt anti-climactic, considering that the main news about Mom was bad.
     
    As part of my research on Alzheimer's I've learned that Mom's good health outside of Alzheimer's is important in slowing the progress of the disease. According to research reported in Look Smart:
     Elderly patients with diabetes, cardiovascular disease or the apolipoprotein E e4 gene, which is linked with Alzheimer's disease, can lose their memory up to eight times faster than their healthier counterparts, according to a report in JAMA. Researchers suggest that exercising regularly and eating a healthful diet may help protect against short-term memory loss, notes Psychology Today.
    [If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
    10:54 am est

    Wednesday, November 2, 2005

    Memories of Mike
     
    Two days ago I learned that my cousin Mike had died. Mike is my relative on my mom's side of the family -- the McComas side. He is the son of my mom's brother Jack -- mom's nephew.
     
    Mike McComas 1954-2005
    Mike was a loner, as far as the family was concerned. Years ago he left Kentucky where most of Mom's family still lives, and he went out to Arizona. I got an email from him a couple years ago. He said that he was doing geneology research on the McComas family. He asked if I had any information about the family tree. Other than that I haven't seen or talked to him in years. The last memory I have of Mike is from fifteen years ago when he came to the McComas Family Reunion held by my sister-in-law Teri D'Ignazio at my parents' farm in Oxford, Pennsylvania. This is a picture of Mike at that reunion.
     
    I bring Mike up because as soon as I heard about Mike's death two days ago I tried to call my mom. I felt that Mom would be grieving over Mike and grief-struck thinking about her brother, Jack, Mike's father.
     
    I was unable to reach Mom until yesterday. When I finally spoke with her, the conversation didn't go as I had imagined. I began giving my condolences, sure that Mom would be very emotional. Instead, she was totally flat. Did she know about Mike's death? Yes, she said, she'd known for a couple days. Had she called Uncle Jack? Yes, she had spoken with him twice. "But," she said, "I haven't seen Mike in so long that I forget what he looks like. I haven't had any contact with him. I'm sorry for my brother. But that's it."
     
    This was not my mother talking. At least not the Mom that I AuntNormaMike130.jpgremembered. My mom is one of the most caring, loving, and sensitive people I know. Mike was 51 years old when he died. Mom "knew" Mike for 51 years. Surely she had lots of memories of Mike stored away, even though she hadn't seen him in recent years. When we were kids we used to go to Kentucky and visit Mike and his family and all of Mom's relatives. And they used to come up north and visit us at the seashore in New Jersey. The picture here is of Mike's mother, Aunt Norma, Mom and Mike at our shore home in Avalon, New Jersey. It is from the 1960s when Mike was around 12 or 13 years old.
     
    I feel certain that mom's reaction to Mike's death is partly the numbness she must feel after having lost so many dear friends in recent years who were much closer to her than Mike. But, I think, some of the lack of emotion is coming from her Alzheimer's Disease. I looked up emotions and affect on the Internet. Here is what a leading Alzheimer's researcher, Dr. Vassilis Koliatsos at Johns Hopkins, says about Alzheimer's Disease and emotion:
     
    It's very complicated. In fact, some people may become very emotional in the beginning, because they appreciate the changes and they're exposed to the loss of their old selves. It's also because many of us use understanding to deal with loss. We rationalize the loss. We have grief stages and we deal with this or that. These people don't have the ability to rationalize, the ability to think, to abstract, and the losses and stressors and other adverse experiences of life--they become magnified or remain unprocessed. You cannot "reason them away." In fact, you may even have hyperemotionality, increased emotionality.

    Later in the disease, as the frontal lobe begins to be impaired, the emotions may become temporarily flat, until a later stage, when the cortex is affected and the more primitive emotional centers become disinhibited. And the way that the subcortical areas process emotion is different from the way the [cerebral] cortex processes emotion. You lose the cortical refinement, and you become entirely subjected to more primitive types of emotional response, where silly laughter or aggression and assaultiveness may become your mode of emotional life. It's a different type of emotional life. It's a more primitive type of emotional life, but you don't lose your emotions.

    In other words, a person doesn't lose their emotions, they just go through stages: First, intense emotions. Second, flat emotions. Third, uninhibited "primitive" emotions.

    Dr. Koliatsos' thoughts about how understanding informs our emotions may help explain what is happening to mom. According to Koliatsos, we "know" how to be emotional when we can put what happens to us into some kind of context. In a sense, we reason our way through our emotions and what emotion is appropriate in a given situation. Our brain figures out what kind of emotion is right and how much emotion we should have. But if we can't place an event (like Mike's death) into any kind of context, we're in a vacuum. We don't really have any reason to be emotional because it's the context (all the years of knowing Mike, of knowing his family, of loving him) that's lost. Without all the memories to back it up, there is no basis for being emotional.

    I love my mom dearly. I feel terrible if she is going through any of these things. I will be visiting her soon, in two weeks. I will see how she is doing when I get to live with her for a few days.

    And there is another way of looking at this. It's a blessing, I guess, that Mom is not feeling the sense of loss over Mike's death that I feel. She isn't feeling grief because she isn't sensitive to events like this the way she used to be. She is in neutral. So the burden is more on those of us around her to: (1) Treat her in a loving, sensitive way, accepting that it's okay for her to experience things this way. And: (2) Fill in the blank spot in her emotionality and take her place in expressing grief, loss, memory and love with each other and other family members who are now going through a grieving process.

    [If you liked this article, please go to my home page at Video Life Narrative where you can learn about videos you can create to honor the life of a family member or friend.]
    11:26 am est


    Archive Newer | Older

    To see earlier entries (posts) to this weblog, click on the dates above. (If there are more recent posts, you will see a link marked "Newer.") 
     
    If you want to add us to your "blog reader" right-click on the XML tag above. Click on "Copy Shortcut" and paste it into your blog reader under "Add Blogs." 

    If you like our site, please tell others about us by clicking on the envelope. Perhaps you know someone who might like to give a Video Life Narrative as a gift to a family member or friend.