Sharing of personal stories: Losing Your Mind Can be Funny

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Kelsey's edits/comments in turquoise.

The A-Bomb 

 [I like that this title leaves the subject matter somewhat ambiguous. In looking at this piece as a narrative rather than a personal blog or journal entry, I think it would be even more effective if there was more of a build up to the moment of the "A-bomb", whereas right now it occurs in the second paragraph.]

…or, it sucks to be us.  That’s a saying I acquired from a former colleague at the investment banking firm where I worked.  She was presenting an in-house class on mortgage securitization and projecting what bond earnings for the firm might be if the mortgage market went south.  She used the expression “It sucks to be us!”   This has particularly stuck with me because if you knew the woman who was presenting, it seemed so out of character for the woman who was presenting.  The consummate professional in every way possible and then . . . “It sucks to be us!”  If she only knew how close she was to predicting the future.  (The firms's St. Petersburg office closed in 2009.)  [While this anecdote about your colleague is a funny, I'm having trouble connecting the firm's business failure to the news you are about to hear pertaining to your mother. I think that if she was predicting the future, it should be in reference to the A-Bomb and not to the closing of the office.]

This is all I could think of on Thursday when the A-bomb hit.  It sucks to be us!  More precisely, it sucks to be my mother who, on the morning of Thursday, September 16, 2010, was formally diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease.  I am along for Mr. Toad’s wild ride.

The neuropsychologist asked her how she felt about her diagnosis.  She said “I’d rather be dead.”  Well, that about sums it up, doesn’t it?

[I think here would be a good spot to insert more about your mother via anecdote and description of her character. I think it's really important to the sentiment of the piece.]

She will now start taking a medication that may help to delay symptoms.  There is no known cure.  The best present medication can do is delay symptoms for generally up to six, if one is lucky maybe nine, months.  Her situation appears to be deteriorating rapidly. 

The first week of June I went on an overnight sailing excursion for a course in Nature Writing. Now she can no longer spend the night alone, which means I will not be taking anymore overnight trips for a while.  A month ago she could follow an excel spread sheet I created with her list of medications.  We then moved to the weekly pill boxes you may see in your local supermarket.  You know the ones: a row of little containers marked with the days of the week and a.m. and p.m.  Now I have to put her pills out on a daily basis, or twice a day actually – a.m. and p.m.  Two weeks ago she could write a check.  Today she can not.  

The neuroscience center she attended for testing and diagnosis appears to have a holistic approach to treating patients.  In addition to a daily dose of 4000 units of Vitamin D, the neurologist prescribed 100 mgs daily of COQ10.  She was low in both and deficiencies in certain vitamins and enzymes can negatively affect one’s memory.

She also wears a CPAP machine now for sleep apnea.  Lack of oxygen during periods of non-breathing in a patient with sleep apnea may result in memory loss.  Studies are still being done.  She may now be receiving more REM sleep and be better rested.  She doesn’t always remember how to put the machine back on, though, so I wake up to assist her.  Now I’ve become sleep deprived. [How else has this changed your life?]

We’ve had a few laughs, though Since the A-Bomb hit, we've managed to have a few laughs.  She did something that annoyed me [what did she do?!] the other day and when I mentioned it she said that was the way she was raised.  I told her that she’s 81 years old and to stop blaming her parents.  She had to laugh.

Today we had a conversation about where her favorite place to live was.  She asked me why.  I said that when she looses her memory and talks about some place that doesn’t sound familiar to me and I’m confused, now I will know where she went. 

I thought of asking her this after I met a man who said his father lives here in Florida, but thinks he’s 35 years old and living in NY New York.  Maybe people ‘go’ to where they had the most fun, or where they have the most pleasant memories.  I told her the story about the man who thought he was still 35 years old.   She said her favorite time was when she lived in Los Angeles for a couple years, when she was 17 and 18 years old, with her oldest sister.  I said that if she ‘goes’ to California she will be a pretty young chic.  She laughed.  I wished that her oldest sister was still alive (may she rest in peace) so I could tell her that apparently that was one of the best times in my mother’s life.  The irony of my mothers reflection is that she is that my mom really didn’t want to move to California in the first place, but that’s another story. People have a tendency to idealize the past.

No one can predict how fast the disease will move.  It progresses on an individual basis; there doesn’t seem to be a standard pattern of development. What happens now?  Time will tell.  I have to remind myself to . . . just breathe. [Structurally, I don't see a whole lot of variation in your sentence/paragraph length. Although I do think that the short paragraphs are effective, I would like to see some of them become longer and more developed.]

Trina, I really like this piece as a sort of ongoing narrative. I feel sort of strange editing this as a journal, as journals are private and personal. Obviously now that your piece has been reviewed/edited/remixed by your peers, it is no longer a journal and should not be read as such. I do feel as though this piece really has the potential to become a great narrative while still remaining close to your heart. I'd like to see you add more anecdotal information about your mother, as well as your relationship with her. I would like to see you write about the conflict we connected on in my personal story - that is, how you can mourn someone who is still present. I want to see how you perceive the disease through your filter - how is this going to impact your life, and how are you coping with the news (other than breathing)? I know that in some of your other pieces you discuss wellness & exercise... do you think that is a way of helping you through this difficult time? I really enjoy your writing, mainly because of your style and tone, and wit - but I want to read even more of you in this. I know that in this case, personal information may be difficult to offer because of the timing and sensitivity of the subject matter, but I do think that if nothing else it will facilitate an audience connection to this piece. -Kelsey

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Alzheimer’s disease is a progressive and fatal brain disease named for the German physician who first described it, Alois Alzheimer.  Most people are familiar with it as the most common form of dementia.  What I didn’t know is that it is also the seventh leading cause of the death in the U.S.  Learn more at alz.org.

I guess I should have commented here (or via email) so I could edit later, since posting below I did put her story out there.  (I keep forgetting in my other class we have editing status, not just writer status and can delete comment boxes after read and replied to).  C'est la vie - kms