When my mother was sick, any time the phone rang, I
reflexively cringed. Although she wasn’t living with us, we were the front-line
defense for any issue at the nearby assisted living center where we had moved
her after my father’s passing.
In addition to other issues, my mother had been diagnosed
with Alzheimer’s. After three years of dealing with her disease, we were more
fortunate than some, in that she still had about 50% lucid moments. There were
also times, though, when she couldn’t remember my children’s names, that I wasn’t
sixteen or that she had lung cancer and COPD.
“I breathe just fine,” she’d say while cursing at the staff
for insisting she wear her oxygen.
Shaking off my Pavlov response to the center’s number
popping up in the caller ID, I picked up the receiver.
“Hi Melinda, we have a situation with your mother and we
need you to come out,” the center director said at a more frantic pace than
usual.
After caring for someone with Alzheimer’s for a while, I’d
learned to triage the chaos the symptoms caused. Refusal to wear her adult diaper
(because she didn’t remember having an incontinence problem) would require one
level of engagement. Her trying to leave the center because she didn’t believe she
lived there would be another. Thankfully, over the years, we had developed a
good, trusting relationship with the center staff. When the director didn’t
immediately tell me what was going on, I knew we were probably looking at some
kind of Deafcon 1 scenario.
“She’s not hurt, but I really need you to come as soon as
you can. I’ll explain when you get here.”
I heard the noise of the commotion from my mom’s room from
down the hall when I entered the center. The door to her room was open. The
center director stood in the doorway and two staff attendants were in the room.
Tears streamed down my mother’s face. Short and frail, in
her Tinkerbell nightgown and clutching her vintage purse, she looked like a
crying child.
“Why won’t you help me find him! We have to find him,” she
yelled as I entered the room. Upon seeing me, relief overcame her. “Melinda, these
charlatans won’t let me call the police to find Pete.”
I spent the next couple of hours trying to help my mother
understand that her husband of forty years had died, that he wasn’t coming home
to take care of her and that the police couldn’t help her find him.
Hearing me saying it and reading his obituary was as painful
to her as the morning she found his cold body on the bathroom floor. Added to
her grief was an overwhelming shame and sadness that she hadn’t remembered
something so important to her.
Looking back on it, I can pinpoint that day, that event, as
the day my mother died. Sure she physically fought on for a few years after but
her spirit had left the party.
Last
night I caught an interview Seth Rogen on a news show talking about his
testimony to Congress regarding his Alzheimer’s foundation. His mother-in-law
has the disease. It was a great interview and
I hope you’ll watch it. Unfortunately,
a lot of Senators didn’t even bother to show up.
Today Alzheimer’s is the 6th leading cause of
death in the US, affects 5 million people and costs our country $203 billion
dollars annually. It is the only cause of death that increased from 2000 to
2010. Every 68 seconds, someone is diagnosed. If you’re looking for a great
book on the topic, I highly recommend my Lotus Lit agency sister Nancy Stearns
Bercaw’s book Brain
in a Jar.
Both of my parents had cancer. My father, after beating
cancer, died of a heart attack. I can truly say that there is no worse disease,
no crueler way to die, than Alzheimer’s.
Solving a riddle as complicated as the brain isn’t easy. As
Seth points out, right now, the biggest obstacle to treatment and a cure is
money.
So this is a shameless plea for you to give. Give to Seth’s foundation
Hilarity for Charity. Give to Cure Alzheimer’s (the highest rated Alzheimer’s
charity).
If you can’t give,
but want to help support the fight against this horrible disease, please help
share my post or links to the foundations through your social media network. Social Media buttons are below. Thank you!
