Forget Me Not

Do you all know who Michael Irvin is? You probably do. I didn't until I saw the recent documentary on the Dallas Cowboys on Netflix. He's a pretty famous football player from the 90s. He has been doing interviews about his wife, who was diagnosed with Early-Onset Alzheimer's. The disease originally went unchecked because everyone assumed she was suffering from memory loss due to menopause. Yes, memory loss due to menopause, which is a real thing, as if women don't have enough to worry about. He has discussed caregiving for her, which I can only imagine is devastating for him because it was devastating for my family when we were taking care of my grandma who had Alzheimer's. However, my grandma was in her 80s. His wife is nowhere near that old, and hearing about her story made me nervous. I am younger than her by almost 20 years, but how early can you get Early-Onset Alzheimer's? I have no idea. But what I do know is that if you know someone who has had Alzheimer's, you are afraid you are going to get it. 

My grandma was a huge part of my life. She helped to raise me, and I spent a large part of my life with her. I loved her so much and relied on her. She was so active that I never thought that she would get something like Alzheimer's. However, by the time I graduated from college, it was clear that something was not right, and for the next few years, I got to watch her forget our names while bringing up stories from her childhood that we could not confirm were true. After she died, my mom told me that she thought she was getting it whenever she forgot something. My aunty has expressed fears of having it if she forgets a minor detail, and now I am starting to be fearful, especially now that I know that this thing can creep up on you when you aren't even old. 

I cannot imagine forgetting my life. It hasn't been the best life in the world, but it has been mine, with memories of laughter and friends and jokes and experiences. When my grandma got really bad, she had forgotten who I was and referred to me as her daughter. I can't imagine forgetting who my niece and nephew are. Sometimes I can't remember the names of people I knew in college which scares me, even though I have not seen or spoken to them in almost 20 years. It's a constant silent state of panic. It's now yet another anxiety to add to the list that I wish I could forget. 

Not So Dirty 30: Alzheimer's Itis

Anyone who says that they are not afraid of getting old is either lying or an idiot. If they are not afraid, they definitely should be.
This weekend, my grandmother turned 90-years-old. Growing up she as a vibrant, beautiful fashionista that loved to cook and go to the mall. We were very, very close. Now, because of Alzheimer's Disease, she has absolutely no earthly idea who I am. And at her nursing home, she is surrounded by people like her. Men and women who once had vibrant lives but now, for various reasons, can not tell you what day it is or who they are.
If this doesn't not scare you- waking up and not knowing who you or who your loved ones are- I can not understand where you are coming from. My guess is that you have not had someone close to you that you love lose it.
The other day I diagnosed myself with Alzheimer's Itis- a fake disease but a real issue. You see my great-grandfather had it and so does my granny. There is a good chance that my mom or aunts may as well as me or my siblings. This makes me afraid of the warning signs before I am even at an age where I would be at risk. What are the symptoms? If I forget anything, no matter how stupid or how long ago it happened, I panic. I find myself reciting random facts about my life to myself, just as my grandmother is consistently telling the nurses her name and birthday. I have to write everything down. I don't want to be put in a position where I could forget something which is cray, because naturally, you can not remember everything.
I don't think there is a cure for this, just a side effect of having a loved one that has been effected by the disease. Fingers crossed, God spares me from this.

Sometimes you feel like a nut...

The best, meaning the worst, thing about watching a loved one suffer from Alzheimer's is witnessing yourself crack.
Lately, I've found myself forgetting things which of course sends me into a panic similar to the ones that my grandma has when she can't remember my name. So now I find myself giving myself little mental quizzes and if I don't pass them, or if I don't feel I remembered a name or place quickly enough, I want to cry.
When I was younger I watched a documentary on ETV on Vivian Vance, the lady that played Ethal on I Love Lucy. Apparently, her mother lost her mind when she was young, so when she got older, Vivian carried a note card with her name and address in her purse so that in the event that she lost her mind, whoever found her roaming the streets would be able to return her home. The documentary was scary to me then, but its horrifying to me now. Funny how you take little things for granted like being able to know your own name off hand.
So the other day my mother tells me that my great-grandfather, my grandma's father, had Alzheimer's. I do not remember him, but oddly enough, I do remember spinning in circles outside of his hospital when I was younger. Nonetheless, hearing this tidbit of info was bone chilling. This means my mother could get this disease and I would have to watch this Hell all over again. Then I could get it, and get to watch myself waste away. I could get to watch myself not know my children, get my ass wiped by strangers, and overall lose touch.
The whole thing sucks to say the least. It sucks that I have to deal with this with my grandma, it sucks that I may one day have to deal with it myself, and there's nothing I can do about it now to prevent it.

...And the point is?

If you live your life the way you are supposed to, if you fear God and put all your energy into being good to others and fulfilling your dreams, if you don't litter, if you grow up and get married and pay taxes and shit three times a day, if you make your children your world and teach them how to sit with their ankles crossed and say 'please' and 'thank you', if you don't lie and if you brush and floss before and after meals, you still are not safe because you are working towards an end and then in the end, nothing is in your hands and you do not get to bask in the goodness that you worked toward your whole life to claim. If this is not just my observation and really the way that it is, then ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to tell you that WE ARE ALL ROYALLY FUCKED!

Why the starry-eyed optimism you may be asking? My grandmother was recently moved into a nursing home after being released from the hospital. She has Alzheimer's Disease. She has only been in the home for about three days, and she does not leave her bedroom, which she shares with a wheelchair-bound woman who can't hear worth a damn. I am glad that she can not leave the room because I feel that even in her state of mind she would recognize that the home, much like other homes across the nation, is just a rest stop before you pack your bags for the pearly gates. It's not that bad I guess, but it is impersonal. Grandma has like 4 doctors and numerous nurses, sometimes different ones depending on shift changes. They have a habit of talking about her in the third person as if she is not there when her hearing is A+. Old people sit in wheelchairs in the halls with wide, 'my mind is in la-la land' smiles, and the nurses and orderlies smile their 'if you only knew you were about to croak' smiles back.

This is my grandmother's end. This is why she lived day to day trying to live the best life that she could. Shitty, huh?

To make things better, meaning worst, I recently talked to my father about my grandfather's death. In high school, I was told that he died but not really told how. Apparently, he suffered from alcoholism and substance abuse and had a stroke, just to starve himself to death in the nursing home.

When you live long enough to see someone you love suffer from a deteriorating illness, your emotions are at a crossroads. Do you live your life to the fullest because it will one day be snatched away or tip-toe cautiously through life hoping that you will be rewarded in the end? I am related by blood to two people who chose one of each path, and ended up in the same place in the end. I am not at all sure what this is supposed to say to me, but I find myself wondering what the point is.