Some while ago, probably 20 years ago now, I read with some interest about a woman who had taken advantage of Oregon's Death with Dignity law. She was relatively young, in her 50's, as I recall, but had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. She played a game of tennis, and then went to be euthanized. She left a husband and children.
I have often thought of her since reading of her decision. Certainly in the interim no cure for Alzheimer's has been found. The best that patients can hope for is better drugs, while they are in the early stages, or more enlightened care, while they are still functioning relatively well.
Marc Agronin relates in his book that his patients call to him, "Give me hope! Dr. Agronin. Give me hope!"
Yes, indeed.
The statistics I have read are bleak. 50% of those people who manage to live beyond the age of 80 will develop some form of dementia. Pretty annoying--do all you can to live longer and your reward is dementia?
And people are living longer. But in his book, Agronin tells stories about people with dementia who get some enjoyment from living, even after forgetting most of their former lives--especially when they are part of a group of people like themselves.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Ah, Spring
It is officially STILL the first day of Spring. Tra La! Crappy day, though...high winds--gusts to 30 mi. ph., rain and grey grey skies. But, the crocuses are croakin' and the daffodils are simply daffy--as am I! Have I mentioned that Spring is my absolute favorite season?
Yay! Forsythia! Yay! Redbud! Yay! Misty green willow! Yay! New growth new beginnings!
We have been taking little walks. Yesterday I saw something cobalt blue protruding from my front flower bed, so after the walk I dug it up. A little treasure: a 3 in. cobalt blue Bromo Seltzer bottle. Now I found out that they produced 72, 000,000 of these little treasures, but so what? I am all psyched with having found treasure in my own front yard. The house is old--nearly 100 years old, and it has a history. That feels nice.
I am currently reading a book called How We Age, by Marc E. Agronin, MD. He is a psychiatrist who works in a home for the elderly, most of whom are over 100 years old. He is a wonderfully upbeat person; his mission is to assure his readers that there is life after oh, say 75, not just pain and boredom. I am now 71, nearly 72, so I feel it is required reading. But, one statistic he quoted must have struck home. According to Mr. Agronin, 50% of people over 85 will suffer from some sort of dementia. Well, after reading his thoughts on that subject, I fell asleep and dreamed that I had forgotten the name of a close friend. I tried to cover it (as we do socially) but in the dream, in my mind, I knew...Very unpleasant, to detect one is in the first stages... Better without a doubt when one has moved on to being completely unaware.
If anyone actually read my blog, they might wonder where I have been for 3 years. Or, more likely, why the heck I have come back? I haven't been anywhere and I have come back on a whim, just as I began the blog way back when. I can't explain my need to write this.
Last November I spent a month writing a draft of a memoir of my childhood. That somehow is connected to my resuming this blog. The last two months of 2010 were almost giddy-wonderful for me. The writing I did had weighed me down for so many years--it was so good to get it out, at last. Before it is too late? Well, I don't really think like that. I suppose I did put it off--but I also had a better perspective, I think. At Christmas I was reunited with some very dear friends that I have not seen in 23 years. We were friends for over 20 years, before I moved half a continent from them. Our visit was thrilling and incredible. We could talk as if the time had never passed. And argue--that was still delightful, after all these years. If they lived here they would hone my brain to a sharp edge.
They did have a bone to pick with me, about my having left them.
Now we will talk regularly. Make up for lost time and not let whatever time we have left to slip away from us.
This afternoon my partner and I finished watching The World's Fastest Indian. What a sweet movie! Anthony Hopkins is wonderful in that role. I know he has played evil villains, but I fancy that if God were to speak to us, he would sound a good deal like Hopkins. I hesitate to recommend it because there aren't any murders or things blowing up! It is a tale about following one's dreams, however bizarre and seemingly impossible. And, however old one might be.
Yay! Forsythia! Yay! Redbud! Yay! Misty green willow! Yay! New growth new beginnings!
We have been taking little walks. Yesterday I saw something cobalt blue protruding from my front flower bed, so after the walk I dug it up. A little treasure: a 3 in. cobalt blue Bromo Seltzer bottle. Now I found out that they produced 72, 000,000 of these little treasures, but so what? I am all psyched with having found treasure in my own front yard. The house is old--nearly 100 years old, and it has a history. That feels nice.
I am currently reading a book called How We Age, by Marc E. Agronin, MD. He is a psychiatrist who works in a home for the elderly, most of whom are over 100 years old. He is a wonderfully upbeat person; his mission is to assure his readers that there is life after oh, say 75, not just pain and boredom. I am now 71, nearly 72, so I feel it is required reading. But, one statistic he quoted must have struck home. According to Mr. Agronin, 50% of people over 85 will suffer from some sort of dementia. Well, after reading his thoughts on that subject, I fell asleep and dreamed that I had forgotten the name of a close friend. I tried to cover it (as we do socially) but in the dream, in my mind, I knew...Very unpleasant, to detect one is in the first stages... Better without a doubt when one has moved on to being completely unaware.
If anyone actually read my blog, they might wonder where I have been for 3 years. Or, more likely, why the heck I have come back? I haven't been anywhere and I have come back on a whim, just as I began the blog way back when. I can't explain my need to write this.
Last November I spent a month writing a draft of a memoir of my childhood. That somehow is connected to my resuming this blog. The last two months of 2010 were almost giddy-wonderful for me. The writing I did had weighed me down for so many years--it was so good to get it out, at last. Before it is too late? Well, I don't really think like that. I suppose I did put it off--but I also had a better perspective, I think. At Christmas I was reunited with some very dear friends that I have not seen in 23 years. We were friends for over 20 years, before I moved half a continent from them. Our visit was thrilling and incredible. We could talk as if the time had never passed. And argue--that was still delightful, after all these years. If they lived here they would hone my brain to a sharp edge.
They did have a bone to pick with me, about my having left them.
Now we will talk regularly. Make up for lost time and not let whatever time we have left to slip away from us.
This afternoon my partner and I finished watching The World's Fastest Indian. What a sweet movie! Anthony Hopkins is wonderful in that role. I know he has played evil villains, but I fancy that if God were to speak to us, he would sound a good deal like Hopkins. I hesitate to recommend it because there aren't any murders or things blowing up! It is a tale about following one's dreams, however bizarre and seemingly impossible. And, however old one might be.
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