Dementia

De-men-tia (di-men-shuh) - noun Psychiatry. Severe impairment or loss of intellectual capacity and personality integration, due to the loss of or damage to neurons in the brain.

Believe me when I write that Parkinson’s disease is a great offender. It makes victims of everyone it touches – patients and families, alike.

Studying Parkinson’s disease in medical school was basically a process. I learned what was required to pass my exams as well as gaining a baseline facility at recognizing the rudiments of diagnosis and treatment. It was assumed that I would probably not be required to know much more about the disease.

I could not have been more wrong.

In the years following her diagnosis, as we finally came to accept Parkinson’s as a permanent factor in Mom’s life, we were then asked to grapple with yet another unwelcome complication – the onset of dementia.

Technically, dementia is a condition which results in gradual loss of brain function; it presents with a decline in cognitive and intellectual function. In addition to memory loss, confusion, and problems with speech and understanding, dementia can also bring about changes in personality and behavior resulting in an increased reliance on others for daily activities.

It isn’t a disease so much as a constellation of symptoms which derives from a variety of causes.

Dementia only occurs in about 20% of Parkinson’s patients; in these patients, Parkinson’s disease Dementia (PDD) generally lags at least 10 to 15 years behind the original diagnosis of Parkinson’s.

Sure enough. As if on schedule, dementia gradually reared its ugly head in the tenth year or so following Mom's diagnosis.

Commonly voiced statement, “Oh, your Mother has OLDTIMERS!”

Once and for all: WRONG. Wrong on more than one level.

1. All dementia is NOT Alzheimer’s; conversely, all Alzheimer’s IS (a form of) dementia.

2. It is “ALZHEIMER’S,” not “OLDTIMERS.” (I wish I had a nickel .... )

Please understand that this attempt to describe dementia is not intended to be all encompassing; I am merely presenting an overview.

I have had a great deal of difficulty coming to terms with the fact that the Mother I know and love is slipping away in piecemeal fashion. The diminution of her physical and mental faculties in the last six months is staggering. A “good” day has now become relative; everyday has an element of “bad.”

This is our reality. For myself, I accept the facts, begrudgingly, but don’t ask me to like it.

Currently, Mom generally (and gratefully) seems to know who I am by sight when with her, but I have occasionally also been referred to as Billy, Mark, Jimmy, Ed, George, or, even Max – as in the dog.

I honestly do try very hard to find humor in moments like this -- without laughter I truly don’t know how I would survive.

When the laughter fades, however, there is generally a moment -- a pause followed by a “sigh” -- as I again remember that the laughter comes at an incalculable expense.

I miss the Mother I knew and love.

And, I also love the Mother who no longer fully knows me.