A hard reality: Advance of Alzheimer's demands we discard denial
Alzheimer's disease offers a particular cruelty to the loved ones of those afflicted by this menacing predator. The people you know and love disappear, slowly losing their faculties, their memories and their personalities while their bodies live on. Alzheimer's can cause the most committed believers to question their faith. It causes caregivers endless frustration and despair dealing with afflicted loved one. As our population ages, Alzheimer's will increasingly tax our spirits, our families and our medical system.
My father, Keith Beeman, is the only real hero of my life. He was a small town veterinarian and ranching enthusiast who eventually became a respected professor of veterinary medicine. My dad is the embodiment of optimism and the guy who was always asked to lead the prayer at the picnic. He always sees the best in people.
My father was always kind of the absent-minded professor type, so we laughed at his forgetfulness. Then the call came from my mother a few years ago: My father had been officially diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. This news hit my mom the hardest, quite naturally, as my parents have been married since 1951. Her mom had died of Alzheimer's related illness a few years prior to my dad's diagnosis, and her case was so bad that my mom refused to let me see her the last time I had visited Kansas before she passed.
My first instinct was to deny the news, insisting that he simply suffered from mild senility that was an outgrowth of his traditional "one-track mind." But my mom's voice told me the news was inescapable -- my dad was losing his ability to function in life.
She made a point of telling everyone they knew about his problem, though she still has a difficult time with the "embarrassments" that frequently occur in the day-to-day life of those who suffer from the disease -- constantly repeating questions and statements, forgetting where the bathroom is and making inappropriate comments in conversation.
My dad was an investor, a bridge player, an automobile enthusiast and the caretaker of his church's food pantry. One after another, these things passed from his life. My dad still has the yard to take care of, but for me one of the toughest moments was when his golfing buddies announced that they could no longer "carry" my dad on the golf course. It may sound superficial, but hearing that my dad could no longer enjoy golf just broke my heart.
Fortunately, my dad has always been at peace with the Lord and I am faithful that he will be called to heaven before this disease causes him to become vegetative. To this day he still remembers who I am when I call. I can no longer ask him for help with my problems, or even talk about my accomplishments. I just ask him what the weather is like, and how he feels at the moment.
Strangely (yet typical for Alzheimer's), he can remember intricate details about his childhood, but not a topic that was discussed three minutes before.
It has been difficult and painful for my mother to endure this burden. My father is utterly dependent upon her, and he becomes quickly confused and filled with anxiety when she is not there. This constant burden would tax the most patient of souls, and my mother frequently breaks down from the pressure. Occasionally she snaps and says something mean, and then feels guilty afterwards for her (quite understandable) actions. She has tried every treatment for my dad, and I have convinced her to hire a professional to occasionally come watch him so she can enjoy some time alone. She has also relented and has started taking him to a daycare once a week to get some time for herself. There are good days and bad days, of course, but the reality is that things tend to get worse as they go along.
Recently my wife found the peanut butter in the refrigerator, and came out into the living room with a look of concern. As someone with Alzheimer's on both sides of my family, it is hard not to see every mental slip as a prelude to this horrifying disease.
I was born at the tail end of the baby boom, in 1963. Millions of Americans are going into the stage of their life when Alzheimer's will ravage their brains. Science is fighting a good fight, and each month brings new hope and promise. Still, many of us are going to face what my parents and others are enduring right now, so it is a time for preparation and knowledge, not denial and wishful thinking.
Randal Beeman is a professor of history at Bakersfield College.
