Early last Sunday, May 15, I drove out to Kensington Metro Park to participate in the sixth annual "Race for Your Memories" to benefit the Alzheimer's Association, Greater Michigan Chapter.
I wasn't running in this race. (Though I have run plenty of 10Ks over the years.) I drove the nearly 50 miles from the east side to help my new friend and colleague, Elizabeth Lorge of BrightStar of Brighton, set up a BrightStar tent and distribute literature to runners and their families.
As I unpacked the brochures about BrightStar's home care services for seniors, I thought of why I was here: On this day, one year ago, Dad died.
It seemed all too fitting to be in my new role on the first anniversary of Dad's passing. A year ago, I was a Ford Motor Company manager on bereavement leave. Today, I am a Ford retiree preparing to open a BrightStar agency of my own on the east side.
Caring for my both elderly parents in the months before Dad's death (and continuing to care for Mom now) made an impact that ultimately pulled me in a different direction. Two weeks ago I said goodbye to my friends at Ford. And this morning, I came to meet Elizabeth and watch and learn as she introduced BrightStar to the runners and their families on this cold, rainy morning at this important Alzheimer's benefit.
Dad didn't suffer from memory loss. He saw what was happening to Mom and did what ever he could to prove he was still "sharp," as he'd like to say. He kept a jigsaw puzzle going on the dining room table. When he finished it, he glued the whole thing to a big piece of cardboard so he could enjoy the picture, leaning it against a growing stack of other glued cardboard images in his bedroom. Dad was always designing, fixing or making something. He'd point to his bald head with a big smile when one of us complimented his handy work.
Mom wasn't so fortunate. She lives with early stages dementia today and requires live-in care, which I will talk about in future blogs.
For now, I'd like to advise on understanding and recognizing the early symptoms so you can begin discussions with doctors and other community experts sooner rather than later.
Mom's dementia was called to our attention by the compassionate staff at Evangelical Homes of Michigan in Sterling Heights, where she was sent for rehab after leg surgery. [See "When Life Changes," May 5, 2011]. They worked with Mom for weeks before discharging her, saying they'd done all they could and dementia was impeding the progress. She couldn't follow simple instructions on how to use a walker to prevent putting weight on her injured leg. "Can't follow instructions, or won't?" I asked the medical team during our discharge conference. "Can't," the social worker said, softly.
In the hallway, outside the conference room, I leaned my head into my husband's chest and cried. "We've lost her," I said.
We don't know what is causing Mom's demential, because she has not been tested for Alzheimer's. But looking back, my family can identify symptoms that began to surface years ago. Busy with our own lives, we chose to overlook her symptoms at the time. The first clue came the year she gave up making Christmas cookies to send to her out-of-town children and their families. Barbara, my sister and Mom's baking buddy, tried to put a date on the calendar. Mom declined, saying she "had no will" to bake this year. We looked at each other, each silently wondering, but let it go. One less thing to do in a crammed holiday season.
Not long after that, Mom quit her card club, complaining that the other players were cheating. My sisters and I looked at each other, again silently wondering where this came from, but let it go.
Then Dad was getting on her for making mistakes in the checkbook. On another occasion, in the middle of a conversation while driving up north, she started talking to me as if I were my sister Theresa. It lasted a only few seconds. Like that it was over, and we were back to our normal chatter. I remember thinking, "What was that? Did she just do what I think she did?"
Alzheimer's and the dementia it causes is growing rapidly and affects not only the victim but every person around her. The numbers are staggering: 5.4 million Americans live with Alzheimers. Last year, 15 million caregivers provided some 17 billion hours of unpaid care. It's the 6th leading cause of death and the only among the top 10 that cannot be prevented, cured or even slowed down. Since 2000, deaths from all major diseases, including HIV, stroke, heart disease, have decreased while deaths from Alzheimer's have increased -- by 66 percent.
See this incredibly powerful two-minute clip at www.alz.org/alzheimers_disease_facts_and_figures.asp.
The race started and the runners began making their way through beautiful Kensington Park. I thought of Mom. Then I said goobye to Elizabeth and headed to my car. The memorial mass at St. Thecla's Catholic Church would start in an hour. As I pulled on to I-96, heading east, I thought of Dad.
No comments:
Post a Comment