The diagnosis of Alzheimer's disease came in her 68th year. Like anyone hearing these words, my immediate question was, "What on earth do we do with this? What happens next?"
Once I accepted my mother’s diagnosis, I began to meet her where she was and to put aside my expectations. Being around my mother had always been the safest place I knew, so it was only right that now I try to provide her with the love and support that she’d given me throughout my life.
Alzheimer’s is a cruel teacher, and it taught me plenty. I learned not to hold her hostage to a way of communicating that we once shared as our conversations became increasingly one-sided. I knew she was listening even as her ability to respond diminished. When I visited, I often found her waiting for me with a smile and a wink. Sometimes, even at the very end, she'd surprise me with words. I always believed I could reach her, for Alzheimer’s was not stronger than my love for her.
There were, of course, good days and bad days. I know from experience that this disease has the ability to pack you up and move you right out from underneath yourself, leaving no forwarding address. And getting through the despair and heartache takes real strength, maybe more than you think you have. But unlike many illnesses, Alzheimer’s disease gives you time. My mother’s journey was eleven years after her diagnosis. I had time to care for and be supportive of her, as she’d done so often for me.
I am now the spokesperson for the Wisconsin Alzheimer’s Institute in Milwaukee, and the message I bring is one of hope and empowerment. Although there is no cure for this disease, excellent research is underway.
Alzheimer’s is a disease that diminishes cognitive capacity. Though scientists don’t fully understand what causes this disease, it is likely that factors include lifestyle, environment, and genetics as well as heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, and obesity. But none of these health risks, including Alzheimer’s, is a foregone conclusion, none a normal part of aging.
Here is where we, as adult children of Alzheimer’s patients, can begin to work out the pain of losing a parent or family member to this disease. By paying attention to nutrition, physical activity, social engagement, and mentally stimulating pursuits, perhaps we all can expect much healthier outcomes.
I think about my mother often, recalling her wisdom, her strength, and her ability to accomplish whatever she set her mind to. I wonder what her life might have been if she’d known the importance of taking better care of herself. I am thankful to Mother that I do.
Alzheimer’s disease is like a long sunset, the light fading gradually. You don’t even notice it leaving; you just look up to find yourself surrounded by darkness.
After fifteen years on the West Coast, I returned to Milwaukee in 1997. My mother was still very much herself in those days, but I can recall hearing her say, "I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I can't seem to remember things." My response was always denial. Thinking back, I knew I saw subtle changes, but it was a long time before I could bring myself to face them. I couldn't stand to see her come off the pedestal where I had placed her. It took about a year before I could acknowledge her distress. I heard the repetitive questions and watched the mild confusion as she tried to do commonplace actions. And then, finally, I saw her struggling to do something that I knew she could once do in her sleep.
FEATUREDSTORY
Alzhiemers
DISPARITY FEATURED THIS QUARTER
Finding Strength Through Love
by Cassandra McShepard
Once I accepted my mother’s diagnosis, I began to meet her where she was and to put aside my expectations. nce I accepted my mother’s diagnosis, I began to meet her where she was and to put aside my expectations.
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