Labor Day weekend has traditionally been one of my busiest weekends. Is that a paradox? I would think the purpose of the holiday is so people like me who have worked the greater part of our lives could relax, picnic, and basically rest on our laurels.
This is family reunion weekend for Jim’s family, my family now. We meet at the biggest shelter at Liberty Park. When I first attended the family reunion, the Fishers played music and sang. People wandered in from all other shelters in the park to listen to the music.
Sometimes we’ve huddled in our coats, and I remember my father-in-law, Bill, building a fire in the fireplace to ward off the chill. We’ve been there in rain, thunder storms, suffocating heat, and once in awhile, absolutely perfect weather.
Jim’s mom, Virginia, used to bake dozens of her delicious light rolls and cook a big pot of beans. We all look forward to Dinah’s chicken and noodles and Ginger’s potato salad. Along with pies, cookies, and brownies, we’ve had birthday and anniversary cakes.
Jim always looked forward to the reunion. We were usually at the park by 9:00 a.m. so he could set up microphones and amplifiers. The last time he went to the reunion, I picked him up at the nursing home. It was not a good day and not a good idea. He became upset and remained that way for days.
The older you get the more bittersweet family reunions become. It’s great to see family you haven’t seen since the last time, but you can’t help but feel sad about the ones who will never be at the Liberty Park reunion again. A new generation has taken over and those of us who have held to the tradition see our grandchildren play on the swings, slides, and merry-go-rounds. Once it was our children. Life goes on and laughter rings out as we celebrate the bond of family.
I wonder if when the younger generation plays music tomorrow I will hear echoes of other reunions. If I think of how Uncle Charles always called me his “sweetie.” Will I hear the ring of horseshoes clanking on the post, and Jim’s laughter as he shares a joke with Uncle Orvie?
When we pack up our Crockpots and pass around goodbye hugs, we are already looking forward to next year, seeing old acquaintances, and greeting new family members. After all, why are we in the labor force, if not for family? So maybe the illogical way to spend the day is in seclusion totally relaxed.
However you spend your Labor Day, I hope it is worthy of a weekend that celebrates a full and productive life. Part of life is work, but the all consuming part of life is family and being with the people you love.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Open Mike – Live Radio
Linda Newkirk, the executive director at the Alzheimer’s Association Mid-Missouri Chapter, joined me on KDRO, a local radio station, for a program called Open Mike. We talked about Alzheimer’s disease and our local Memory Walk.
I don’t know how many people are awake at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday to listen, but it is a popular program. It gave us a golden opportunity to talk about the September 20 Sedalia Memory Walk and to let people know about the Chapter’s services.
I call myself the Alzheimer’s Association Poster Child. I’ve benefited from my acquaintance with the great staff at the Mid-Missouri Chapter since my initial contact when Jim first developed symptoms. The Alzheimer’s Association symbol used to be two people leaning into the “H” of the word Alzheimer’s. The slogan was “Someone to stand by you.” The logo has now changed to a stylistic symbol of a brain and a beaker, which represents the Alzheimer’s Association dual mission to support people living with the disease (and their caregivers) and research to find a cure for Alzheimer’s disease. The symbol has changed, like so many things do, but the heart beat of the organization is the same.
What qualifies me to be a poster child? My first contact with the Mid-Missouri Chapter was through a call to the 24 hour/7 day a week HELP line and, yes, I was connected automatically to my own chapter. I read every word of the literature they sent me and the Chapter newsletter. The only financial help I received for respite care was from the Alzheimer’s Association. They were the only ones who didn’t say Jim was too young to qualify. I registered Jim with Safe Return when he began to wander off. I attended educational programs that helped me develop caregiver strategies and learn more about dementia. Support Group was invaluable to me, and I can’t imagine why everyone doesn’t gather strength from others who know exactly what they are going through. I became an advocate and talked to my legislators on Memory Day and at the Public Policy Forum in Washington DC. I learned even more about the dedication of everyone involved at the Mid-Missouri Chapter during my six years as a Board Member. I developed friendships with staff, board members, other caregivers, and amazing people living with Alzheimer’s.
Jim and I participated in the 1998 Memory Walk with five other people and one dog. I followed that up with five years of being the Coordinator of the Sedalia Memory Walk. Our walk grew to embrace the entire community. As fulfilling as that experience was, I turned it over to Shelley who did a terrific job for the next four years. This year we have a new inexperienced coordinator and she is struggling. So, when they asked me to go on Open Mike, I was happy to talk about our Memory Walk. It was my baby, and I want it to continue to grow strong and healthy.
On the radio, Linda Newkirk and I talked about how Alzheimer’s affects entire families and how Memory Walk allows individuals to make a difference. Saturday, September 20, Sedalia will be on the MOVE to end Alzheimer’s.
Each September, Jim’s Team honors his memory at the Sedalia Memory Walk. This is our time to give back to the organization with “the compassion to care, the leadership to conquer.”
_______________________________________
The Sedalia Memory Walk is September 20, at the Highway Gardens on the Missouri State Fairgrounds. Registration begins at 8:30 and the one-mile stroll begins at 10:00. You can register at www.alz.org/Mid-Missouri or email me at lfisher@lsfisher.com.
Do you know when and where the Memory Walk closest to you takes place? You can go to www.alz.org, to search by state for your local Chapter’s Memory Walk schedule. Lace up your walking shoes and support the 5.2 million Americans with Alzheimer’s.
I don’t know how many people are awake at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday to listen, but it is a popular program. It gave us a golden opportunity to talk about the September 20 Sedalia Memory Walk and to let people know about the Chapter’s services.
I call myself the Alzheimer’s Association Poster Child. I’ve benefited from my acquaintance with the great staff at the Mid-Missouri Chapter since my initial contact when Jim first developed symptoms. The Alzheimer’s Association symbol used to be two people leaning into the “H” of the word Alzheimer’s. The slogan was “Someone to stand by you.” The logo has now changed to a stylistic symbol of a brain and a beaker, which represents the Alzheimer’s Association dual mission to support people living with the disease (and their caregivers) and research to find a cure for Alzheimer’s disease. The symbol has changed, like so many things do, but the heart beat of the organization is the same.
What qualifies me to be a poster child? My first contact with the Mid-Missouri Chapter was through a call to the 24 hour/7 day a week HELP line and, yes, I was connected automatically to my own chapter. I read every word of the literature they sent me and the Chapter newsletter. The only financial help I received for respite care was from the Alzheimer’s Association. They were the only ones who didn’t say Jim was too young to qualify. I registered Jim with Safe Return when he began to wander off. I attended educational programs that helped me develop caregiver strategies and learn more about dementia. Support Group was invaluable to me, and I can’t imagine why everyone doesn’t gather strength from others who know exactly what they are going through. I became an advocate and talked to my legislators on Memory Day and at the Public Policy Forum in Washington DC. I learned even more about the dedication of everyone involved at the Mid-Missouri Chapter during my six years as a Board Member. I developed friendships with staff, board members, other caregivers, and amazing people living with Alzheimer’s.
Jim and I participated in the 1998 Memory Walk with five other people and one dog. I followed that up with five years of being the Coordinator of the Sedalia Memory Walk. Our walk grew to embrace the entire community. As fulfilling as that experience was, I turned it over to Shelley who did a terrific job for the next four years. This year we have a new inexperienced coordinator and she is struggling. So, when they asked me to go on Open Mike, I was happy to talk about our Memory Walk. It was my baby, and I want it to continue to grow strong and healthy.
On the radio, Linda Newkirk and I talked about how Alzheimer’s affects entire families and how Memory Walk allows individuals to make a difference. Saturday, September 20, Sedalia will be on the MOVE to end Alzheimer’s.
Each September, Jim’s Team honors his memory at the Sedalia Memory Walk. This is our time to give back to the organization with “the compassion to care, the leadership to conquer.”
_______________________________________
The Sedalia Memory Walk is September 20, at the Highway Gardens on the Missouri State Fairgrounds. Registration begins at 8:30 and the one-mile stroll begins at 10:00. You can register at www.alz.org/Mid-Missouri or email me at lfisher@lsfisher.com.
Do you know when and where the Memory Walk closest to you takes place? You can go to www.alz.org, to search by state for your local Chapter’s Memory Walk schedule. Lace up your walking shoes and support the 5.2 million Americans with Alzheimer’s.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Life is Worth Living
I’m still on a bit of a high three days after the Alzheimer's Association OK/Ark Chapter’s educational symposium at Fort Smith. I was thrilled to finally meet Cheryl, Bob, and Jordan after months of emails setting up my two presentations.
Ft. Smith is a town that welcomes visitors with open hearts. Mayor Baker proclaimed August 14 “Linda Fisher Day” and presented me with the “Key to the Frontier.” The town motto is “Life is worth living in Ft. Smith!”
The day’s program began with “Writing as Therapy: Rocks and Pebbles” at the first general session. After a few opening remarks, I managed to knock over my glass of water and watch as my notes blurred into a soggy mess. It didn’t make any difference because I’m such a believer in the therapeutic benefits of writing that the notes are primarily to keep me on schedule.
I gave the keynote, “Alzheimer’s Can Happen at Any Age,” following the awards presentations. It may have not been an accident that all the breakables had been removed from the podium area prior to my presentation.
The Alzheimer’s Association offered a variety of programs to give family and professional caregivers skills and encouragement to continue with their important missions. Dr. Ed McMahon’s session on “Non-Pharmacologic Interventions” gave examples of how thinking outside the box can benefit people with dementia. Sandy Warmack and Jean Cosgrove facilitated a work shop called “It’s all the Rage.” Earplugs and rolled up construction paper helped us understand the limitations of a person with Alzheimer’s. Several other concurrent sessions were offered, but these were the ones I attended.
The educational symposium energized the participants and motivated them to be the best caregivers they can be. The positive feedback I received made me realize how important it is to share my years of caregiving experience with others who are beginning this journey.
No matter how much it may seem that way, life is never all bad. Moments of joy penetrate our saddest moments. It may be a smile, a touch, or a look that says “I remember” too. Sometimes I am amazed that I walked into the long dark tunnel through the land of dementia and emerged on the other side alive, happy, and optimistic. Most important, life is still worth living in Ft. Smith and in your hometown.
Ft. Smith is a town that welcomes visitors with open hearts. Mayor Baker proclaimed August 14 “Linda Fisher Day” and presented me with the “Key to the Frontier.” The town motto is “Life is worth living in Ft. Smith!”
The day’s program began with “Writing as Therapy: Rocks and Pebbles” at the first general session. After a few opening remarks, I managed to knock over my glass of water and watch as my notes blurred into a soggy mess. It didn’t make any difference because I’m such a believer in the therapeutic benefits of writing that the notes are primarily to keep me on schedule.
I gave the keynote, “Alzheimer’s Can Happen at Any Age,” following the awards presentations. It may have not been an accident that all the breakables had been removed from the podium area prior to my presentation.
The Alzheimer’s Association offered a variety of programs to give family and professional caregivers skills and encouragement to continue with their important missions. Dr. Ed McMahon’s session on “Non-Pharmacologic Interventions” gave examples of how thinking outside the box can benefit people with dementia. Sandy Warmack and Jean Cosgrove facilitated a work shop called “It’s all the Rage.” Earplugs and rolled up construction paper helped us understand the limitations of a person with Alzheimer’s. Several other concurrent sessions were offered, but these were the ones I attended.
The educational symposium energized the participants and motivated them to be the best caregivers they can be. The positive feedback I received made me realize how important it is to share my years of caregiving experience with others who are beginning this journey.
No matter how much it may seem that way, life is never all bad. Moments of joy penetrate our saddest moments. It may be a smile, a touch, or a look that says “I remember” too. Sometimes I am amazed that I walked into the long dark tunnel through the land of dementia and emerged on the other side alive, happy, and optimistic. Most important, life is still worth living in Ft. Smith and in your hometown.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Double Booked
Some people think I’m insane when they see my calendar. Others just think I don’t realize each day has only 24 hours. Sometimes, I find myself double booked. Last Monday night I had two meetings at the same exact time, across town from each other. Just cancel one? Oh, heavens, no! I went to my BPW board meeting first, and then to the other, longer Memory Walk planning meeting.
Thursday night, I had a dinner meeting, on the opening day of the State Fair. After the meeting adjourned, three of us went to the fair and caught the end of the Air Supply concert. Who says you can’t do it all?
Friday was my day off, but my plans for the day: work a few hours, eat grilled hamburgers at the going-away lunch for our summer employee, and make my 1:15 appointment at W-K Chevrolet to get my oil changed. And then, what the heck, I might as well go to Brian’s Gym for a workout. Not a problem. Except, I got sick Thursday night. I’ll spare you the gross details, but I was violently ill. Kind of reminded me of the time I had food poisoning. That time, Jim hauled me into to the emergency room. After waiting two hours and no doctor in sight, I decided if I was going to die, I would much rather die at home in my own bathroom than the hospital’s public restroom.
I spent Friday totally wiped out. I slept, drank a little water, ate a few bites of bread, slept, called and cancelled everything, slept, and slept. By evening, I felt better so I stayed awake for a few hours, and then went to bed and slept through the night. When my alarm went off this morning—yes, I know it’s Saturday but I had a conference to attend—thankfully, I had slept off my illness. Late this afternoon on the way home, I stopped by work and finished the reports I planned on doing yesterday.
Have I always been like this? No! I became possessed after ten years of being a caregiver. All primary caregivers of loved ones with Alzheimer’s know about the 36 Hour Day. As crazy as my calendar is, it is still calm compared to that of a caregiver.
I’m not sure what happened to the person I once was, but I think she evaporated into a puff of smoke. What happened to the days when I couldn’t find enough to do? What happened to curling up with a book on a rainy day? What happened to my own personal concerts with Jim singing and playing his Fender guitar?
Early onset dementia changed everything. I’m not the person I used to be, and I will never be that person again. I will never take life or love for granted.
Double booked? So what? At least I’m not triple booked. Often.
Thursday night, I had a dinner meeting, on the opening day of the State Fair. After the meeting adjourned, three of us went to the fair and caught the end of the Air Supply concert. Who says you can’t do it all?
Friday was my day off, but my plans for the day: work a few hours, eat grilled hamburgers at the going-away lunch for our summer employee, and make my 1:15 appointment at W-K Chevrolet to get my oil changed. And then, what the heck, I might as well go to Brian’s Gym for a workout. Not a problem. Except, I got sick Thursday night. I’ll spare you the gross details, but I was violently ill. Kind of reminded me of the time I had food poisoning. That time, Jim hauled me into to the emergency room. After waiting two hours and no doctor in sight, I decided if I was going to die, I would much rather die at home in my own bathroom than the hospital’s public restroom.
I spent Friday totally wiped out. I slept, drank a little water, ate a few bites of bread, slept, called and cancelled everything, slept, and slept. By evening, I felt better so I stayed awake for a few hours, and then went to bed and slept through the night. When my alarm went off this morning—yes, I know it’s Saturday but I had a conference to attend—thankfully, I had slept off my illness. Late this afternoon on the way home, I stopped by work and finished the reports I planned on doing yesterday.
Have I always been like this? No! I became possessed after ten years of being a caregiver. All primary caregivers of loved ones with Alzheimer’s know about the 36 Hour Day. As crazy as my calendar is, it is still calm compared to that of a caregiver.
I’m not sure what happened to the person I once was, but I think she evaporated into a puff of smoke. What happened to the days when I couldn’t find enough to do? What happened to curling up with a book on a rainy day? What happened to my own personal concerts with Jim singing and playing his Fender guitar?
Early onset dementia changed everything. I’m not the person I used to be, and I will never be that person again. I will never take life or love for granted.
Double booked? So what? At least I’m not triple booked. Often.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
News from ICAD: Elderspeak Increases Resistance to Care
Researchers are not only trying to find a cure for Alzheimer’s, they want to improve quality of life and improve the standard of care for people with dementia. The results of an ongoing study released at the 2008 Alzheimer’s Association International Conference on Alzheimer’s Disease (ICAD) involves communication. Researchers used “Elderspeak” to define a communication method similar to a parent using baby-talk phrases such as, “Sweetie pie, it’s time for us to get up now” or “That’s a no-no!” This study validates what we caregivers knew all along: Our loved ones with dementia are adults and need to be treated with respect.
During the study, resistance to care was measured in relationship to dementia care unit staff’s communication with the residents. The communication styles were broken down into normal talk, elderspeak, and silence. The study shows that it is significantly more effective to talk to residents in normal conversation than elderspeak. Silence was neutral.
Jim developed aphasia early in his disease and we learned to cope with his diminishing grasp of spoken and written communication. In effect, my unscientific study spanned ten years. I never used baby talk, but it was perfectly acceptable for me to call Jim by endearments because I always had. In fact, one time when I addressed him as “Jim” in front of our kids, they both giggled because they had NEVER heard either one of us call the other by name. Yet, I know that once Jim was in the nursing home, he had to cringe when staff called him by an intimate endearment reserved for use by people who loved him.
When a person’s spoken language is limited, and they are ordered to do something in an unkind tone, or treated like a child, they will react in the only way they can—by resisting. This resistance is looked upon as “behavior” and reflects upon the resident rather than the staff.
Some states require dementia specific training with communication as one of the elements. The results of this study should be reason enough for long term care facilities to go above and beyond any state laws in improving communication between staff and residents. When a resident resists care, it is stressful for staff and increases the time required to complete a task.
Using respectful communication methods is a win-win situation whether your loved one is at home or in long term care. Proper training allows staff to perform at an efficient level, and residents will be more cooperative. Family caregivers can benefit from the knowledge that their communication style can greatly impact their caregiving success.
Source: Respectful Adult Communications Improves Quality of Care in Alzheimer’s at http://www.alz.org/. The study conducted by Kristine N. Williams, RN, PhD, and the University of Kansas School of Nursing was funded by the National Institute of Health.
During the study, resistance to care was measured in relationship to dementia care unit staff’s communication with the residents. The communication styles were broken down into normal talk, elderspeak, and silence. The study shows that it is significantly more effective to talk to residents in normal conversation than elderspeak. Silence was neutral.
Jim developed aphasia early in his disease and we learned to cope with his diminishing grasp of spoken and written communication. In effect, my unscientific study spanned ten years. I never used baby talk, but it was perfectly acceptable for me to call Jim by endearments because I always had. In fact, one time when I addressed him as “Jim” in front of our kids, they both giggled because they had NEVER heard either one of us call the other by name. Yet, I know that once Jim was in the nursing home, he had to cringe when staff called him by an intimate endearment reserved for use by people who loved him.
When a person’s spoken language is limited, and they are ordered to do something in an unkind tone, or treated like a child, they will react in the only way they can—by resisting. This resistance is looked upon as “behavior” and reflects upon the resident rather than the staff.
Some states require dementia specific training with communication as one of the elements. The results of this study should be reason enough for long term care facilities to go above and beyond any state laws in improving communication between staff and residents. When a resident resists care, it is stressful for staff and increases the time required to complete a task.
Using respectful communication methods is a win-win situation whether your loved one is at home or in long term care. Proper training allows staff to perform at an efficient level, and residents will be more cooperative. Family caregivers can benefit from the knowledge that their communication style can greatly impact their caregiving success.
Source: Respectful Adult Communications Improves Quality of Care in Alzheimer’s at http://www.alz.org/. The study conducted by Kristine N. Williams, RN, PhD, and the University of Kansas School of Nursing was funded by the National Institute of Health.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Expect Delays: No Center Stripe
Jim and I used to go to Branson several times a year. Now, I make the trip with friends, my mom, sister, or my grandchildren. Last weekend, I traveled with my grandchildren.
Along Highway 65 on our trip, we hit road construction. Warning signs were posted: Road Construction, One Lane Ahead, Expect Delays. A flagman held a STOP sign. We waited in a line of vehicles while north bound traffic traversed several miles of a single lane. While we waited our turn, a blue Chevy pickup behind me swerved into the other lane, the driver’s head bobbing like an out-of-control bobble head doll as she contemplated whether the STOP sign applied to her.
The north bound cars dwindled, and we proceeded on our way at a speedy 45 miles per hour. Past the one-lane road, the signs read No Center Stripe. This sign means so much more than it says. It’s obvious that the road has no center stripe. But too many drivers, like the lady in the Chevy truck, have no concept of why the sign is there. Suddenly, you don’t have the Missouri Department of Transportation tell you which areas are unsafe for passing. You actually have to use common sense.
Ms. Bobble Head continued to swerve around, debating on passing me so she could be stuck behind the semi in front of me. Fortunately for her, traffic was heavy enough that on-coming cars prevented her from risking her life, and ours, in a foolish attempt to pass where the road department will surely paint yellow lines.
Of course, the grandchildren and I were not happy about the delay on our trip to Branson and Silver Dollar City, but that’s summer in Missouri. Life is like a highway without a center stripe, and we can expect delays along our journey. Every day we make decisions that can affect the remainder of our lives, and those decisions often affect others. We just need to use common sense, and watch out for the bobble heads.
Along Highway 65 on our trip, we hit road construction. Warning signs were posted: Road Construction, One Lane Ahead, Expect Delays. A flagman held a STOP sign. We waited in a line of vehicles while north bound traffic traversed several miles of a single lane. While we waited our turn, a blue Chevy pickup behind me swerved into the other lane, the driver’s head bobbing like an out-of-control bobble head doll as she contemplated whether the STOP sign applied to her.
The north bound cars dwindled, and we proceeded on our way at a speedy 45 miles per hour. Past the one-lane road, the signs read No Center Stripe. This sign means so much more than it says. It’s obvious that the road has no center stripe. But too many drivers, like the lady in the Chevy truck, have no concept of why the sign is there. Suddenly, you don’t have the Missouri Department of Transportation tell you which areas are unsafe for passing. You actually have to use common sense.
Ms. Bobble Head continued to swerve around, debating on passing me so she could be stuck behind the semi in front of me. Fortunately for her, traffic was heavy enough that on-coming cars prevented her from risking her life, and ours, in a foolish attempt to pass where the road department will surely paint yellow lines.
Of course, the grandchildren and I were not happy about the delay on our trip to Branson and Silver Dollar City, but that’s summer in Missouri. Life is like a highway without a center stripe, and we can expect delays along our journey. Every day we make decisions that can affect the remainder of our lives, and those decisions often affect others. We just need to use common sense, and watch out for the bobble heads.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Out to Lunch
Although I’m a writer and speaker, I continue to work at my day job for those little necessities like food and health insurance. My job as an office manager is fulfilling and challenging enough to hold my interest. We work ten-hour days with an hour lunch break. Sometimes, it seems that my brain is “out to lunch” during that one hour of theoretical down time in the middle of the day.
Friday, just as I was ending the work week, I decided to eat at the office and work on an article and story with looming deadlines. I walked back to the kitchen, removed my Schwan’s Broccoli-Chicken and Rice Bowl and popped it into the microwave. Rather than waste six minutes while I waited for it to cook, I grabbed a glass of ice water and returned to my desk, popped in my flash drive, and began to write.
The problem with healthy food is sometimes it just doesn’t stick with you. At three o’clock I was famished, and just as I reached for my apple, I realized my lunch was still in the microwave. I never thought I would live long enough to forget to eat! HereI am, a master of multi-tasking, and forgot to eat lunch.
Last week, I rushed from my hair appointment through a drive-thru window at Goody’s. I bypassed the “Order Here” menu and drove to the “Pick up Order” window. Just as I was contemplating backing up, the window opened and a grinning man said, “Could I have your order, please?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t stop and place my order.”
“It happens,” he said, “people just have their minds on something else.”
I didn’t tell him this was an improvement over the fiasco at the same restaurant last year. That time, I ordered at the proper window, paid for my food, and drove off with only my drink. I’m sure I was thinking about more important things than lunch.
My friend, Tracy Mobley, diagnosed at 38 with early-onset dementia, has something to say about people like me who have so much on their plates that their brains are out to lunch. She says, “They are quick to say, ‘Oh, I do those things.’ I truly wish this disease were as forgiving and forgetting as they make it seem.”
Well said, Tracy! When Jim developed dementia, I realized how serious and life-changing Alzheimer’s really is. He began a process that could be described as unlearning.
Our lives are so hectic today that we often find ourselves with our brain on one track, and our actions on auto pilot. This mental overload is not Alzheimer’s, but simply a brain trying to process too much information.
The lesson for me is to hang a mental “Out to Lunch” sign during my lunch break and spend my time more wisely. I need to take a deep breath and slow down. If I meet friends for lunch or go to the park and relax for an hour, I bet I wouldn’t forget to eat.
*****
For information on Memory Talk presentations, visit http://www.lsfisher.com/, and click on the Alzheimer's Speaker link. Alzheimer's Anthology of Unconditional Love available at Barnesandnoble.com, Amazon.com, and selected Missouri Barnes and Noble stores.
Friday, just as I was ending the work week, I decided to eat at the office and work on an article and story with looming deadlines. I walked back to the kitchen, removed my Schwan’s Broccoli-Chicken and Rice Bowl and popped it into the microwave. Rather than waste six minutes while I waited for it to cook, I grabbed a glass of ice water and returned to my desk, popped in my flash drive, and began to write.
The problem with healthy food is sometimes it just doesn’t stick with you. At three o’clock I was famished, and just as I reached for my apple, I realized my lunch was still in the microwave. I never thought I would live long enough to forget to eat! HereI am, a master of multi-tasking, and forgot to eat lunch.
Last week, I rushed from my hair appointment through a drive-thru window at Goody’s. I bypassed the “Order Here” menu and drove to the “Pick up Order” window. Just as I was contemplating backing up, the window opened and a grinning man said, “Could I have your order, please?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t stop and place my order.”
“It happens,” he said, “people just have their minds on something else.”
I didn’t tell him this was an improvement over the fiasco at the same restaurant last year. That time, I ordered at the proper window, paid for my food, and drove off with only my drink. I’m sure I was thinking about more important things than lunch.
My friend, Tracy Mobley, diagnosed at 38 with early-onset dementia, has something to say about people like me who have so much on their plates that their brains are out to lunch. She says, “They are quick to say, ‘Oh, I do those things.’ I truly wish this disease were as forgiving and forgetting as they make it seem.”
Well said, Tracy! When Jim developed dementia, I realized how serious and life-changing Alzheimer’s really is. He began a process that could be described as unlearning.
Our lives are so hectic today that we often find ourselves with our brain on one track, and our actions on auto pilot. This mental overload is not Alzheimer’s, but simply a brain trying to process too much information.
The lesson for me is to hang a mental “Out to Lunch” sign during my lunch break and spend my time more wisely. I need to take a deep breath and slow down. If I meet friends for lunch or go to the park and relax for an hour, I bet I wouldn’t forget to eat.
*****
For information on Memory Talk presentations, visit http://www.lsfisher.com/, and click on the Alzheimer's Speaker link. Alzheimer's Anthology of Unconditional Love available at Barnesandnoble.com, Amazon.com, and selected Missouri Barnes and Noble stores.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
From Memory Walk to Memory Talk
“I want to go to the Memory Walk because I’m having trouble with my memory,” Jim said. He had spotted a small ad about the upcoming walk in the Sedalia Democrat. I hadn’t mentioned the walk but had already registered and raised $400. I thought Jim wouldn’t want to go because it was for Alzheimer’s.
When the doctor told Jim he had probable Alzheimer’s, Jim’s reaction was, “I guarantee you, I do NOT have THAT!” I didn’t want to believe it either, but what began as memory glitches had developed into gaping deficits. By Memory Walk time, Jim was on Aricept, but it made him sick and he resented taking an Alzheimer’s drug.
We arrived at Liberty Park, expecting a crowd of walkers. We joined Helen and Chuck from Slater, Penny and Joetta from the Mid-Missouri Chapter, and Penny’s German shepherd, Vicky, beneath the small shelter.
Helen, an energetic, vivacious 70ish woman had organized the walk because the Association couldn’t find anyone in Sedalia to do it. She toted a hunter’s horn, and was raring to go.
We received tee-shirts, sweatshirts, caps, cups, and water bottles. I donned my purple tee-shirt, but Jim insisted on wearing his cowboy hat and denim shirt. We waited. Walk time arrived, and no one else showed up.
Our small group headed toward the downtown area. Helen blew her horn, and we collected donations from the few people we met on the street and most of the downtown businesses. It was hot, and Jim began to sweat, but he was a real trouper and wanted to continue the walk. Helen swooped into the VFW Hall on Ohio Street. The veterans asked her to blow her hunter’s horn, and the sound bugled throughout the building.
Jim collected the largest donation of the day from Wilken’s Music Store, where he was a regular customer. He was excited about people giving us contributions and with no concept of the value of money, pocket change was just as exciting to him as ten-dollar bills. In all, the Sedalia Walk earned about $600 that year
The Mid-Missouri Chapter asked me to organize the 1999 walk. I had never been involved in community service, and this was a giant step for me. The Sedalia Memory Walks were successful initially due to family support. Eventually the walk was embraced by our entire community. My passion carried me through five years as coordinator. Our six walkers mushroomed into 444 walkers who contributed $36,000.
The decision to become the Memory Walk Coordinator changed my life. Throughout Jim’s illness, being an Alzheimer’s Association volunteer gave me a sense of purpose and became my lifeline. The Mid-Missouri Chapter staff and Board gave me a Kleenex to dry my eyes and inspired me on my life’s greatest mission. Over the past ten years, I’ve been a primary caregiver, a support group facilitator, an Alzheimer’s Board Member and Assembly Delegate, a spokesperson, and active advocate for people with Alzheimer’s and their families.
I’m not telling you these things so you will think I’m a giving person; I have received so much more than I’ve ever given. Jim developing early onset dementia was my life’s greatest heartbreak, but this tragedy gave birth to my greatest blessings.
Being an Alzheimer’s volunteer, I’ve met amazing people, made life-long friends, and had opportunities I never dreamed could be possible. I share my experiences through Memory Talk presentations and book projects. I see sunshine breaking through the giant shadow of Alzheimer’s.
Every journey begins with one step, so make sure your step is in the right direction. May you walk the Memory Walk and talk the Memory Talk to make the world better for the 5.2 million Americans with Alzheimer’s.
*****
To find a Memory Walk near you, call your local Alzheimer’s Association Chapter or visit http://www.alz.org/ and click on your state on the map. You don’t have to be an athlete. Our top fundraiser for years called all her friends and never left her home. If you prefer email, the Alzheimer’s Association’s Kintera makes fundraising easy.
For information on Memory Talk presentations, visit http://www.lsfisher.com/, and click on the Alzheimer's Speaker link. Alzheimer's Anthology of Unconditional Love available at Barnesandnoble.com, Amazon.com, and selected Missouri Barnes and Noble stores.
When the doctor told Jim he had probable Alzheimer’s, Jim’s reaction was, “I guarantee you, I do NOT have THAT!” I didn’t want to believe it either, but what began as memory glitches had developed into gaping deficits. By Memory Walk time, Jim was on Aricept, but it made him sick and he resented taking an Alzheimer’s drug.
We arrived at Liberty Park, expecting a crowd of walkers. We joined Helen and Chuck from Slater, Penny and Joetta from the Mid-Missouri Chapter, and Penny’s German shepherd, Vicky, beneath the small shelter.
Helen, an energetic, vivacious 70ish woman had organized the walk because the Association couldn’t find anyone in Sedalia to do it. She toted a hunter’s horn, and was raring to go.
We received tee-shirts, sweatshirts, caps, cups, and water bottles. I donned my purple tee-shirt, but Jim insisted on wearing his cowboy hat and denim shirt. We waited. Walk time arrived, and no one else showed up.
Our small group headed toward the downtown area. Helen blew her horn, and we collected donations from the few people we met on the street and most of the downtown businesses. It was hot, and Jim began to sweat, but he was a real trouper and wanted to continue the walk. Helen swooped into the VFW Hall on Ohio Street. The veterans asked her to blow her hunter’s horn, and the sound bugled throughout the building.
Jim collected the largest donation of the day from Wilken’s Music Store, where he was a regular customer. He was excited about people giving us contributions and with no concept of the value of money, pocket change was just as exciting to him as ten-dollar bills. In all, the Sedalia Walk earned about $600 that year
The Mid-Missouri Chapter asked me to organize the 1999 walk. I had never been involved in community service, and this was a giant step for me. The Sedalia Memory Walks were successful initially due to family support. Eventually the walk was embraced by our entire community. My passion carried me through five years as coordinator. Our six walkers mushroomed into 444 walkers who contributed $36,000.
The decision to become the Memory Walk Coordinator changed my life. Throughout Jim’s illness, being an Alzheimer’s Association volunteer gave me a sense of purpose and became my lifeline. The Mid-Missouri Chapter staff and Board gave me a Kleenex to dry my eyes and inspired me on my life’s greatest mission. Over the past ten years, I’ve been a primary caregiver, a support group facilitator, an Alzheimer’s Board Member and Assembly Delegate, a spokesperson, and active advocate for people with Alzheimer’s and their families.
I’m not telling you these things so you will think I’m a giving person; I have received so much more than I’ve ever given. Jim developing early onset dementia was my life’s greatest heartbreak, but this tragedy gave birth to my greatest blessings.
Being an Alzheimer’s volunteer, I’ve met amazing people, made life-long friends, and had opportunities I never dreamed could be possible. I share my experiences through Memory Talk presentations and book projects. I see sunshine breaking through the giant shadow of Alzheimer’s.
Every journey begins with one step, so make sure your step is in the right direction. May you walk the Memory Walk and talk the Memory Talk to make the world better for the 5.2 million Americans with Alzheimer’s.
*****
To find a Memory Walk near you, call your local Alzheimer’s Association Chapter or visit http://www.alz.org/ and click on your state on the map. You don’t have to be an athlete. Our top fundraiser for years called all her friends and never left her home. If you prefer email, the Alzheimer’s Association’s Kintera makes fundraising easy.
For information on Memory Talk presentations, visit http://www.lsfisher.com/, and click on the Alzheimer's Speaker link. Alzheimer's Anthology of Unconditional Love available at Barnesandnoble.com, Amazon.com, and selected Missouri Barnes and Noble stores.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Writing as Therapy: Rocks and Pebbles
Stress is rampant in most of our lives today, and is a primary contributor to premature death. Even when we make an effort to be healthier, we create more stress! I experience health-related stress every time I try the latest count-every-calorie diet and go to bed with a growling stomach.
We manage stress in individual and somewhat mystical ways. Whether you cope with stress though exercise, aromatherapy, meditation, medication, therapy, or a combination, you use a method that blends with your personality.
I’ve always believed in gut feelings, and my gut tells me that writing is the technique that works for me. I will be the first to admit a bubble bath can brighten a bad day, but when I grapple with a dilemma, I need to write. The key word is “need.” It isn’t that I want to write, or writing through the problem might help; writing is necessary. Nothing else works as well as writing to relieve my stress, grief, disappointments, or the myriad of quandaries spawned by daily life.
Through Jim’s downward spiral into the land of dementia, I survived by writing. From the first memory lapses through ten years of gradually losing my best friend and companion, I wrote. Pen and paper, or my laptop, took the brunt of my anger, disappointment, and despair. Had I unloaded all my problems onto other human being, I probably wouldn’t have any friends or relatives without unlisted phone numbers.
I wrote “Writing as Therapy: Rocks and Pebbles” for Alzheimer’s Anthology of Unconditional Love. One of the purposes of the book was to help others traveling the Alzheimer’s journey. I would have been remiss had I not shared the value of writing.
Imagine my excitement to find research validates the therapeutic benefits of writing for both emotional well-being and physical problems. It is easier for me to understand the emotional benefits of writing than to comprehend that participants of therapeutic writing experiments showed decreased blood pressure, less pain from arthritis, and better breathing in asthmatics.
In this age of self-help, writing is an inexpensive way to use the benefit of self-reflection to increase our joy in living. Researchers warn that writing is not a cure-all and may not work for everyone. But if you are one who believes in gut feelings, you might want to give it a try. Writing as therapy is not about being a “writer” or “published author;” it’s about expressing your emotions through writing.
My current book project, Writing as Therapy: Rocks and Pebbles, explores how writing memories, or even fiction, can be cathartic. Writing allows me to reflect on life, examine my values, and validate my faith that my existence has meaning. Writing is a stress-free health choice that allows me to feast on spiritual food. No calorie counting required.
We manage stress in individual and somewhat mystical ways. Whether you cope with stress though exercise, aromatherapy, meditation, medication, therapy, or a combination, you use a method that blends with your personality.
I’ve always believed in gut feelings, and my gut tells me that writing is the technique that works for me. I will be the first to admit a bubble bath can brighten a bad day, but when I grapple with a dilemma, I need to write. The key word is “need.” It isn’t that I want to write, or writing through the problem might help; writing is necessary. Nothing else works as well as writing to relieve my stress, grief, disappointments, or the myriad of quandaries spawned by daily life.
Through Jim’s downward spiral into the land of dementia, I survived by writing. From the first memory lapses through ten years of gradually losing my best friend and companion, I wrote. Pen and paper, or my laptop, took the brunt of my anger, disappointment, and despair. Had I unloaded all my problems onto other human being, I probably wouldn’t have any friends or relatives without unlisted phone numbers.
I wrote “Writing as Therapy: Rocks and Pebbles” for Alzheimer’s Anthology of Unconditional Love. One of the purposes of the book was to help others traveling the Alzheimer’s journey. I would have been remiss had I not shared the value of writing.
Imagine my excitement to find research validates the therapeutic benefits of writing for both emotional well-being and physical problems. It is easier for me to understand the emotional benefits of writing than to comprehend that participants of therapeutic writing experiments showed decreased blood pressure, less pain from arthritis, and better breathing in asthmatics.
In this age of self-help, writing is an inexpensive way to use the benefit of self-reflection to increase our joy in living. Researchers warn that writing is not a cure-all and may not work for everyone. But if you are one who believes in gut feelings, you might want to give it a try. Writing as therapy is not about being a “writer” or “published author;” it’s about expressing your emotions through writing.
My current book project, Writing as Therapy: Rocks and Pebbles, explores how writing memories, or even fiction, can be cathartic. Writing allows me to reflect on life, examine my values, and validate my faith that my existence has meaning. Writing is a stress-free health choice that allows me to feast on spiritual food. No calorie counting required.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Announcement: Early Onset Project Submissions Deadline Extended!
The submissions deadline for true slice-of-life stories for a book about early onset dementia has been extended to October 31, 2008. Early onset Alzheimer's begins before age 65. For complete guidelines and a sample story, please visit my website at www.lsfisher.com.
Linda Fisher
Linda Fisher
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)