One of my favorite shows, The Mentalist, is centered on a man with an extraordinary ability to predict human behavior. In his job as a consultant, Patrick Jayne the mentalist, always downplays his extraordinary ability as being based on observation. Jayne denies that he has any psychic abilities and maintains they do not exist in the real world. His uncanny abilities often leave others shaking their heads and wondering how he really does it.
A lot of people, in general, and psychics in particular claim to have the inside track on predictions. Most psychic predictions are so general that many events can be interpreted as fulfilling the prophecy.
One of my favorite psychic predictions involved Dolly Parton. The prediction was that she would fall in love with a 300-pound professional wrestler, write a song called “Headlock on My Heart,” and feature her sweetheart in a music video. This is a detailed and specific prediction that set the psychic up for failure. Well, Dolly Parton has a sense of humor and when she read this wild prediction, she wrote the song and asked Hulk Hogan to star in the video—complete with fake wedding between Dolly and “Starlight Starbright.”
Most of us listen to predictions on a daily basis. Predictions may be minor, but we may plan our wardrobe based on the weather forecast, how far we are willing to travel on vacation based on the price of gasoline, whether to change our retirement fund investments based on the stock market, or whether we want to watch reality TV if our favorite is voted off.
Most important predictions concern our health. Through no fault of our own, we may be susceptible to certain diseases based on our genetic makeup. Science has made it possible to predict accurately a person’s health outcome of certain diseases through genetic testing.
The APOE gene has long been connected to Alzheimer’s. Which version you have of the APOE gene can mean that you are twenty times more likely to develop Alzheimer’s (2 copies of APOE-4) or less likely to develop Alzheimer’s (2 copies of APOE-2). Of course, any person may have any combination of APOE genes and most people do not know their genetic makeup and cannot predict whether they are more likely, or less likely, to develop Alzheimer’s. The APOE gene is one of the genes that breaks down plaques.
The hallmarks of Alzheimer’s are two proteins—amyloid beta (causes plaques ) and tau (which causes tangles). Science is beginning to come together to get to the cause of the plaques and tangles.
• Chris Dobson, Cambridge University, discovered that slight genetic adjustments to amyloid beta protein could make it more soluble. Insoluble proteins cause plaques.
• Researchers at Brown University have found that the cell process works in diseased brains but is overwhelmed by misfolded amyloid beta proteins.
• Dr. Jeffrey Kelly, Scripps Research Institute, announced the discovery of several genetic mutations that make people more susceptible to Alzheimer’s disease. These genes are more commonly associated with cholesterol metabolism and inflammation.
As the research comes together, the University of California announced a more accurate method of using MRIs and a neuropsychological assessment to predict whether a person will develop Alzheimer’s. The goal of the research is develop a method to diagnose Alzheimer’s disease in an early stage before symptoms appear.
When we develop a disease, the crucial prediction is the prognosis. Without a breakthrough, predicting the outcome of an Alzheimer’s diagnosis is unfortunately accurate.
Early detection makes a difference in a hopeful outcome for most diseases. With scientific breakthroughs from many different sources, Alzheimer’s may someday be a disease where early detection means successful treatment.
Copyright © L. S. Fisher April 2011
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Sources:
Ridley, Matt, Connecting the Pieces of the Alzheimer’s Puzzle. April 2011.
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703806304576242781646480162.html
http://esciencenews.com/articles/2011/04/11/mri.may.contribute.early.detection.alzheimers
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Power of Failure and Rejection
Last week I attended the Missouri Writers’ Guild Just Write Conference and coordinated the pitch sessions. For those of you who are not writers, pitch sessions are when authors try to sign with an agent or editor who can sell their books to major publishers. Ten agents listened to seven minute pitches from 9 AM to 4 PM.
Some of the authors had worked on their novels for years and in seven minutes tried to convince a professional that their book could be a success. This process is so important to the authors that they are understandably nervous.
“My goal is to not throw up on my shoes,” one author said. I’m happy to report she came out of the session with clean feet and a smile on her face.
Many just came out shaking their heads no. “She didn’t like it,” or “She doesn’t know where she can sell the book,” were some of the remarks. These authors have a chance of success because they did not let the fear of failure, or rejection, keep them from pursuing their dreams.
One young author, Christine Karsh, pitched to four different agents and three requested the first thirty to fifty pages of her young adult novel. She was ecstatic! Taking a chance on rejected may have landed her a New York agent.
Some of the best authors are never published because they are afraid of rejection. Every time I submit a story, I realize it may be rejected. Recently, my local writers’ guild announced the stories to be published in this year’s anthology. Of course, some of the stories and poetry had been rejected. Some authors were angry, one poet said she felt “broken,” and another author just laughed and said, “It’s hard to know what the judge is going to like.”
At our writers’ guild, we use a positive attitude about successes and failures. Often, the same people report both.
“One of my stories won a prize,” I’ll sometimes say when we report our successes.
“Any failures to report?” the president asked at our last meeting.
“I do,” I said. “The story I submitted to Mysteries of the Ozarks was gently rejected.”
I’ve been rejected many times as a writer. If I didn’t take a chance on being rejected, I would never have been published or won any prizes. I have had stories rejected by a publication and resubmitted them to contests and won more in prizes than the publication paid.
Sometimes our fear of failure can hold us back from meeting our most basic needs in life. During this time of high unemployment, some people have their job applications rejected so many times that they have become so discouraged they quit looking. When I was out of work in the early 80s, the situation was the much the same as it is now. I went on job interview after job interview until I successfully landed a job at an electric cooperative. I wound up getting a much better job than had I been hired at one of the places that rejected me.
When I became Jim’s caregiver, I worried about failure. I was plagued with doubts. Would I be able to take care of him? Could I make the best decisions for him? Would I be able to handle years of overwhelming responsibility? I battled with a sense of failure when I finally had to place Jim in long-term care. I felt like it was my fault when Jim was kicked out of the nursing home. If I hadn’t let icy roads keep me away, would I have been able to ward off the dark mood that led up to the incident? My biggest doubts were on this date six years ago when Jim died. Did I fail to find some treatment that would have made a difference?
In my heart I know that everything was done for Jim that could be done, and I’m glad that I didn’t let fear of failure make me give up. Realistically, I knew we were not going to successfully stave off the ultimate destiny of our dementia journey, but it didn’t keep me from wanting to make that journey as happy as it could be.
Every morning when we wake up, we can decide whether we want to play it safe and not take any chances, or we can make the most of our God given talents. If we do not let fear of rejection and failure hold us back, we have unleashed the ultimate power tool for success.
Copyright © April 2011 by L.S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Some of the authors had worked on their novels for years and in seven minutes tried to convince a professional that their book could be a success. This process is so important to the authors that they are understandably nervous.
“My goal is to not throw up on my shoes,” one author said. I’m happy to report she came out of the session with clean feet and a smile on her face.
Many just came out shaking their heads no. “She didn’t like it,” or “She doesn’t know where she can sell the book,” were some of the remarks. These authors have a chance of success because they did not let the fear of failure, or rejection, keep them from pursuing their dreams.
One young author, Christine Karsh, pitched to four different agents and three requested the first thirty to fifty pages of her young adult novel. She was ecstatic! Taking a chance on rejected may have landed her a New York agent.
Some of the best authors are never published because they are afraid of rejection. Every time I submit a story, I realize it may be rejected. Recently, my local writers’ guild announced the stories to be published in this year’s anthology. Of course, some of the stories and poetry had been rejected. Some authors were angry, one poet said she felt “broken,” and another author just laughed and said, “It’s hard to know what the judge is going to like.”
At our writers’ guild, we use a positive attitude about successes and failures. Often, the same people report both.
“One of my stories won a prize,” I’ll sometimes say when we report our successes.
“Any failures to report?” the president asked at our last meeting.
“I do,” I said. “The story I submitted to Mysteries of the Ozarks was gently rejected.”
I’ve been rejected many times as a writer. If I didn’t take a chance on being rejected, I would never have been published or won any prizes. I have had stories rejected by a publication and resubmitted them to contests and won more in prizes than the publication paid.
Sometimes our fear of failure can hold us back from meeting our most basic needs in life. During this time of high unemployment, some people have their job applications rejected so many times that they have become so discouraged they quit looking. When I was out of work in the early 80s, the situation was the much the same as it is now. I went on job interview after job interview until I successfully landed a job at an electric cooperative. I wound up getting a much better job than had I been hired at one of the places that rejected me.
When I became Jim’s caregiver, I worried about failure. I was plagued with doubts. Would I be able to take care of him? Could I make the best decisions for him? Would I be able to handle years of overwhelming responsibility? I battled with a sense of failure when I finally had to place Jim in long-term care. I felt like it was my fault when Jim was kicked out of the nursing home. If I hadn’t let icy roads keep me away, would I have been able to ward off the dark mood that led up to the incident? My biggest doubts were on this date six years ago when Jim died. Did I fail to find some treatment that would have made a difference?
In my heart I know that everything was done for Jim that could be done, and I’m glad that I didn’t let fear of failure make me give up. Realistically, I knew we were not going to successfully stave off the ultimate destiny of our dementia journey, but it didn’t keep me from wanting to make that journey as happy as it could be.
Every morning when we wake up, we can decide whether we want to play it safe and not take any chances, or we can make the most of our God given talents. If we do not let fear of rejection and failure hold us back, we have unleashed the ultimate power tool for success.
Copyright © April 2011 by L.S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Monday, April 11, 2011
The World is Blossoming!
Apparently, there’s nothing quite like a ninety degree day in April to make the blossoms burst out in full glory. Looking out my patio doors just beyond the indestructible artificial plant on the patio table, redbuds provide a splash of color against the shades of springtime green.Going to pick up my paper, I first noticed tiny delicate flowers on my lawn, right beside the wild garlic that has popped up since the last mowing. And, oh, yes, the dandelions are in their brilliant yellow stage pretending to be a normal flower. The Shasta daisies in my flower garden have opened up. The scent from the two lilac trees wafts along the breeze and I couldn’t resist stopping and leaning in for whiff of their fragrance.
It’s easier to be optimistic when butterflies flit from blossom to blossom and when birdsongs fill the air. Blustery winds and bone chilling cold seem like only a shadow left from a bad dream. God pauses to smile from fluffy clouds against a cerulean sky.
No season is perfect. Spring is a time of thunderstorms, tornadoes, pesky insects, and reptiles. April is a time of sad anniversaries, those dates that are firmly ingrained in my mind as a time of nearly unbearable loss. In a week, I will pause and remember Jim on the six-year anniversary of our journey’s end. Marking the day I knew he would never again sit on the front porch with a cup of coffee and smell lilacs on a sunny April morning.
I have not been too ambitious today, in fact, I’m resting up from my weekend at the Missouri Writers’ Guild conference. I would have slept later this morning, but before she left for work, Shawna had taken pity on my cat and let her come upstairs. By seven o’clock, Katrina could no longer contain herself, jumped up into my bed, and immediately tried to lie down on my head.
I had spent the morning catching up on email and Facebook. About noon, I decided to relax with my library book. Reading made me sleepy, so rather than take a nap, I decided to go outside for a while.
When I walked around the yard, it was easy to feel the essence of family that used to live here—Jim, his mom and dad. My brother-in-law, Terry, was outside and we looked over the garden spot and talked about the plants that he would plant in the garden.
“Just let me know what you would like me to plant,” he said.
“Well, I really liked those peppers last year, and you know I love tomatoes. Oh, and cucumbers, and zucchini,” I said. My taste buds were singing louder than the birds while I talked about fresh garden vegetables.
“And I’ll plant some lettuce,” Terry said, “for salads and wilted lettuce.”
“I’m thinking about planting some herbs,” I said, “in a container.” I can’t quite see me weeding and tilling in the evenings after I get home from work.
“We planted herbs here,” he said, pointing to the outer edge of the garden. “A few of them are coming up from last year. Here’s fennel, garlic, and chives. I don’t know if any of the other herbs will come up again this year.” We turned over a few dirty, faded plastic markers from last year. Terry had left the markers because, like me, he wasn’t sure if he could identify the herbs without them being in little plastic bottles plainly labeled.
While we walked around the yard, we talked about the mulberry tree, gooseberry vines and blackberry vines, and then I noticed the big may apples. “Hey, I bet mushrooms are up,” I said.
“Ginger didn’t find any yesterday,” he said.
As I walked back through the door to finish my inside work, I was smiling. This would be a great day to just sit outside on the porch and look at all the blooms, butterflies, and signs of spring. Sure, I still miss Jim, but I know in my heart Jim would not have wanted me to waste a minute of this gorgeous day thinking sad thoughts.
Copyright © April 2011 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com/
Thursday, April 7, 2011
VA REACHing out to Caregivers
The Department of Veterans Affairs is pleased with the success of their REACH VA pilot program to help caregivers of veterans with Alzheimer’s and plans to expand the program nationally. By relieving caregiver stress, the veterans receive better care at home.
The REACH program provided caregivers:
• Twelve in-home visits and telephone counseling sessions
• Five telephone support group sessions
• A Caregiver Guide with forty-eight behavioral and stress topics
• Safety and behavior management education
• Training for health and well being
The caregivers who had the benefit of these program reported they were less depressed, not as frustrated, and were less burdened on a daily basis with caregiving duties. Caregivers also reported fewer dementia-related behaviors with the veteran under their care.
I applaud the VA for recognizing the benefits of taking care of the caregiver. If your loved one with dementia is a veteran, you should check into the REACH VA program.
If your loved one is not a veteran, please contact your local Alzheimer’s Association chapter. They, too, provide training and support for caregivers.
The five core services of an Alzheimer’s Association chapter:
1. Information and Referral
2. Care consultation
3. Support Groups
4. Safety Services
5. Education
Details on these services can be found at http://www.alz.org/we_can_help_local_chapters_wch.asp
As a caregiver, my lifeline was the partnership I formed with my local chapter. Through their educational programs I gained confidence as a caregiver, knowing I had the benefit of expert knowledge. I received respite funds to help defray the cost of in-home care. At support group I learned from the facilitators and from the experiences of other caregivers. Through my local chapter I registered Jim with Safe Return. I pored over every newsletter the chapter sent out to learn about new treatments and just to find out what was going on with other caregivers.
The VA has taken a giant step in the right direction to REACH out to caregivers. Visit www.caregiver.va.gov to learn more about this program.
Caring for a person with dementia can be overwhelming. The health and wellbeing of the caregiver is crucial to keep our loved ones at home as long as possible. By knowing and using the resources available in your community, you will be a better caregiver.
Copyright © April 2011 L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
The REACH program provided caregivers:
• Twelve in-home visits and telephone counseling sessions
• Five telephone support group sessions
• A Caregiver Guide with forty-eight behavioral and stress topics
• Safety and behavior management education
• Training for health and well being
The caregivers who had the benefit of these program reported they were less depressed, not as frustrated, and were less burdened on a daily basis with caregiving duties. Caregivers also reported fewer dementia-related behaviors with the veteran under their care.
I applaud the VA for recognizing the benefits of taking care of the caregiver. If your loved one with dementia is a veteran, you should check into the REACH VA program.
If your loved one is not a veteran, please contact your local Alzheimer’s Association chapter. They, too, provide training and support for caregivers.
The five core services of an Alzheimer’s Association chapter:
1. Information and Referral
2. Care consultation
3. Support Groups
4. Safety Services
5. Education
Details on these services can be found at http://www.alz.org/we_can_help_local_chapters_wch.asp
As a caregiver, my lifeline was the partnership I formed with my local chapter. Through their educational programs I gained confidence as a caregiver, knowing I had the benefit of expert knowledge. I received respite funds to help defray the cost of in-home care. At support group I learned from the facilitators and from the experiences of other caregivers. Through my local chapter I registered Jim with Safe Return. I pored over every newsletter the chapter sent out to learn about new treatments and just to find out what was going on with other caregivers.
The VA has taken a giant step in the right direction to REACH out to caregivers. Visit www.caregiver.va.gov to learn more about this program.
Caring for a person with dementia can be overwhelming. The health and wellbeing of the caregiver is crucial to keep our loved ones at home as long as possible. By knowing and using the resources available in your community, you will be a better caregiver.
Copyright © April 2011 L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Saturday, March 26, 2011
For Every Action, There Is a Reaction
The last few weeks have reminded me that for every action there is a reaction. I’m not talking about Newton’s Third Law or even writing advice I’ve received over the years. No, I’m talking about everyday common occurrences.
Since I live in the country, I may be a little closer to nature than my city-dwelling friends. Last Saturday, I looked outside to see five cows grazing in my yard. I’m not afraid of cows, but noticed one of the “cows” was actually a bull so I stayed inside until the bull decided to butt my satellite dish. I reacted by yelling in my no-nonsense voice, “Get out of here!” The big guy turned toward me and gave me a look that indicated he wasn’t scared of me at all and didn't budge until my brother-in-law chased them away.
For $98, they would look at my dish or I could purchase a service contract for $6 per month with a five-month obligation. I agreed to the service agreement. My daughter-in-law walked in while I was finishing my conversation. She went outside and looked the dish over, tightened up a few loose screws and the TV came back on. “I don’t know how long it will last,” she said.
I couldn’t see cancelling the appointment so I asked about upgrading to DVR. I had wanted to do this for months, but hadn’t done it. The technician not only upgraded my system, he programmed in American Idol so that I didn’t have to miss it while I was at the Alzheimer’s Walk meeting that night.
He planned to come back Wednesday to bury the cable and mount the dish on a pole. Wednesday morning, I turned on the water to take a shower and the lukewarm water quickly turned cold. The water heater had quit. I called my service provider and they said they could come Monday. Monday? No hot water until Monday?
A friend of mine came over and pushed the reset button for the water heater, which was all it needed the last time, and sure enough, it started working again. In fact, the water was boiling hot. Apparently, the service company reacts more swiftly to boiling water than cold water. They agreed to come the next day.
The dish man hadn’t showed up by almost ten, so I called the 800 number to see what was going on. While I talked on the phone, I headed down the hallway and almost stepped on a snake. It didn’t matter to me that it was a harmless, ring neck snake—a snake is a snake. My reaction: I screamed, backtracked, and started telling the guy on the phone and my friend that a snake was IN MY HOUSE. If I’d been by myself, I might have just moved out until the snake was removed. The way it was, my friend put his foot on the snake to keep it out of the nearby bedroom, and I brought him an oven mitt to pick it up.
“How did he get in here?” I asked.
“Probably that little crack under your storm door.” I had left the entry door open. Oh, yeah, Jim installed that storm door after he had dementia. He wanted to angle it slightly, but couldn’t understand that he was angling the bottom of the door the wrong direction. I finally convinced him to leave it straight so that we had a small crack instead of big gap.
It’s been quite a week, this week. A lot of action and reaction going on, for sure. Today, I’m relaxing and watching the snow come down. It’s hard to believe I was wearing summer clothes earlier this week. My reaction to the snow? At least a snake won’t be out in this kind of weather.
Copyright © March 2011 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Since I live in the country, I may be a little closer to nature than my city-dwelling friends. Last Saturday, I looked outside to see five cows grazing in my yard. I’m not afraid of cows, but noticed one of the “cows” was actually a bull so I stayed inside until the bull decided to butt my satellite dish. I reacted by yelling in my no-nonsense voice, “Get out of here!” The big guy turned toward me and gave me a look that indicated he wasn’t scared of me at all and didn't budge until my brother-in-law chased them away.
A few days and a few cattle visits later, one-half of my satellite programming quit working. It seems that half my programming is on one satellite and the other half is on a different one. My luck, the half that was working had C-Span and info TV, and the half that was out of commission carried American Idol.
For $98, they would look at my dish or I could purchase a service contract for $6 per month with a five-month obligation. I agreed to the service agreement. My daughter-in-law walked in while I was finishing my conversation. She went outside and looked the dish over, tightened up a few loose screws and the TV came back on. “I don’t know how long it will last,” she said.
I couldn’t see cancelling the appointment so I asked about upgrading to DVR. I had wanted to do this for months, but hadn’t done it. The technician not only upgraded my system, he programmed in American Idol so that I didn’t have to miss it while I was at the Alzheimer’s Walk meeting that night.
He planned to come back Wednesday to bury the cable and mount the dish on a pole. Wednesday morning, I turned on the water to take a shower and the lukewarm water quickly turned cold. The water heater had quit. I called my service provider and they said they could come Monday. Monday? No hot water until Monday?
A friend of mine came over and pushed the reset button for the water heater, which was all it needed the last time, and sure enough, it started working again. In fact, the water was boiling hot. Apparently, the service company reacts more swiftly to boiling water than cold water. They agreed to come the next day.
The dish man hadn’t showed up by almost ten, so I called the 800 number to see what was going on. While I talked on the phone, I headed down the hallway and almost stepped on a snake. It didn’t matter to me that it was a harmless, ring neck snake—a snake is a snake. My reaction: I screamed, backtracked, and started telling the guy on the phone and my friend that a snake was IN MY HOUSE. If I’d been by myself, I might have just moved out until the snake was removed. The way it was, my friend put his foot on the snake to keep it out of the nearby bedroom, and I brought him an oven mitt to pick it up.
“How did he get in here?” I asked.
“Probably that little crack under your storm door.” I had left the entry door open. Oh, yeah, Jim installed that storm door after he had dementia. He wanted to angle it slightly, but couldn’t understand that he was angling the bottom of the door the wrong direction. I finally convinced him to leave it straight so that we had a small crack instead of big gap.
It’s been quite a week, this week. A lot of action and reaction going on, for sure. Today, I’m relaxing and watching the snow come down. It’s hard to believe I was wearing summer clothes earlier this week. My reaction to the snow? At least a snake won’t be out in this kind of weather.
Copyright © March 2011 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Set My Heart on It
With only twenty-four hours in a day, I don’t get nearly enough done. I move from project to project trying to keep one step ahead of the next deadline. I have so many things that I have my heart set on, that sometimes, I just mentally flip a coin to see which project can wait—or be cancelled.
This weekend, I hustled to get a bundle of stories to the post office, and headed to the lake to watch my youngest granddaughter cheer at a basketball game. It was fun to watch her shake her pom-poms and chant cheers through a megaphone. My grandson played with his cars on the bleachers where the grownups watched the game and, of course, the cheerleaders.
After lunch at a Mexican restaurant, I decided that while I was in the neighborhood, so to speak, I’d drop in on my brother at the nursing home and see my mom at her nearby apartment. I called my mom since she doesn’t just sit at home, in case someone wants to drop by. She assured me that she would be home soon. Rather than wait at her house, I decided to make use of the time to visit my brother, Donnie.
“My roommate needs help,” Donnie said when I walked through the door. His strokes have interfered with his speech, but he was sitting in his wheelchair, bright eyed. He certainly looked much better than he did a few weeks ago when I visited him in the hospital. At the hospital, he was so miserable that he just kept saying he wanted to die.
“Okay, I’ll go get someone,” I told him.
When I returned to the room, he looked at me and said, “Who are you?”
“I’m your sister, Linda,” I said. Donnie is nearly blind so I knew it wasn’t that he didn’t know who I was, he simply could not see me well enough.
“Oh,” he said. When the aide came in, she mentioned that Donnie’s light wasn’t working. This started him on a rant about everything that wasn’t working in his room: the nightlight, the door that wouldn’t shut on his closet, and his opinion of housekeeping for not fixing everything.
“I’ll tell them,” the aide said, making her exit when she realized Donnie was past teasing and had become angry.
“I can’t walk, can’t move my arms, and can’t fix the things that are wrong. They haven’t even turned my calendar,” he said. Sure enough, the calendar with giant numbers was still on February. I flipped the calendar and sat down on his bed.
Now that he was a little calmer, I told him how much better he looked. I asked him if he was eating and he started telling me about refusing to eat the “pre-chewed” food as he called it.
I knew what Donnie was talking about because Jim’s food was eventually “mechanically softened” and later pureed. It never looked appetizing, and I told Donnie how my niece referred to Jim’s “mystery meat” when we couldn’t determine what kind of meat it was.
“Are they giving you regular water now too?” I asked.
“Hell, yes,” he said. “I told them to leave that thickening out. That stuff just made me thirstier.”
That reminded me of when Jim strangled and choked too easily and his liquids were thickened. I always thought that his thirst could not be quenched and felt bad that he couldn’t have his big travel cup filled with ice water.
After our visit, I hugged Donnie and told him I wouldn’t stay away so long next time. “I want to spend more time with my family,” I said.
“Family is the most important thing,” he told me. “If it wasn’t for mom and my brothers and sisters, I would just give up.” He wiped tears from his eyes with his left hand, the one he uses the best.
By the time I left the nursing home, the soft rain had changed to a torrential downpour. I didn’t let the rain delay me from visiting my mom and merrily splashed through the puddles of water on her walkway. When I set my heart on it, a thunderstorm and downpour won’t even slow me down.
Copyright © March 2011 by Linda Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com/
This weekend, I hustled to get a bundle of stories to the post office, and headed to the lake to watch my youngest granddaughter cheer at a basketball game. It was fun to watch her shake her pom-poms and chant cheers through a megaphone. My grandson played with his cars on the bleachers where the grownups watched the game and, of course, the cheerleaders.
After lunch at a Mexican restaurant, I decided that while I was in the neighborhood, so to speak, I’d drop in on my brother at the nursing home and see my mom at her nearby apartment. I called my mom since she doesn’t just sit at home, in case someone wants to drop by. She assured me that she would be home soon. Rather than wait at her house, I decided to make use of the time to visit my brother, Donnie.
“My roommate needs help,” Donnie said when I walked through the door. His strokes have interfered with his speech, but he was sitting in his wheelchair, bright eyed. He certainly looked much better than he did a few weeks ago when I visited him in the hospital. At the hospital, he was so miserable that he just kept saying he wanted to die.
“Okay, I’ll go get someone,” I told him.
When I returned to the room, he looked at me and said, “Who are you?”
“I’m your sister, Linda,” I said. Donnie is nearly blind so I knew it wasn’t that he didn’t know who I was, he simply could not see me well enough.
“Oh,” he said. When the aide came in, she mentioned that Donnie’s light wasn’t working. This started him on a rant about everything that wasn’t working in his room: the nightlight, the door that wouldn’t shut on his closet, and his opinion of housekeeping for not fixing everything.
“I’ll tell them,” the aide said, making her exit when she realized Donnie was past teasing and had become angry.
“I can’t walk, can’t move my arms, and can’t fix the things that are wrong. They haven’t even turned my calendar,” he said. Sure enough, the calendar with giant numbers was still on February. I flipped the calendar and sat down on his bed.
Now that he was a little calmer, I told him how much better he looked. I asked him if he was eating and he started telling me about refusing to eat the “pre-chewed” food as he called it.
I knew what Donnie was talking about because Jim’s food was eventually “mechanically softened” and later pureed. It never looked appetizing, and I told Donnie how my niece referred to Jim’s “mystery meat” when we couldn’t determine what kind of meat it was.
“Are they giving you regular water now too?” I asked.
“Hell, yes,” he said. “I told them to leave that thickening out. That stuff just made me thirstier.”
That reminded me of when Jim strangled and choked too easily and his liquids were thickened. I always thought that his thirst could not be quenched and felt bad that he couldn’t have his big travel cup filled with ice water.
After our visit, I hugged Donnie and told him I wouldn’t stay away so long next time. “I want to spend more time with my family,” I said.
“Family is the most important thing,” he told me. “If it wasn’t for mom and my brothers and sisters, I would just give up.” He wiped tears from his eyes with his left hand, the one he uses the best.
By the time I left the nursing home, the soft rain had changed to a torrential downpour. I didn’t let the rain delay me from visiting my mom and merrily splashed through the puddles of water on her walkway. When I set my heart on it, a thunderstorm and downpour won’t even slow me down.
Copyright © March 2011 by Linda Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com/
Sunday, March 13, 2011
SuperMoon – Will it Be a Full Moon on Overdrive?
I remember having a discussion with a friend who thought I was crazy when I mentioned the full moon caused chaos at the nursing home.
“That’s an old wives’ tale,” he said. And he laughed at me.
“Hey, if you don’t believe me, just ask anyone who works in a nursing home,” I said. I’ve always been a skeptic about the moon’s influence on human behavior until Jim was a resident at a nursing home. No one had to tell me when the moon was full—it was obvious from the behavior. Residents were restless and agitated at a complete different level.
Okay, so I’ve done a lot of internet research and the scientific sites tend to scoff at the idea that the moon, full or otherwise, would influence behavior. As one site points out, the moon is there all the time whether the sun reflects off it or not.
Astrologers, not astronomers, think the March 19 SuperMoon may cause an increase in natural disasters. In fact, some think the influence of the approaching SuperMoon may have had something to do with the disaster in Japan. I’m not one to align myself with astrologists, so I’m not going to propose that the SuperMoon has anything to do with earthquakes, but I wonder if it will affect human behavior.
Life sometimes teaches us things that science can’t prove. While trolling around the internet, I came across something that makes sense to my practical side. It started with one person who posted that her sleep was disturbed during the full moon. She slept fine the rest of the month, but during the full moon, she could not sleep. Several other people reported the same problem.
Doesn’t this make sense? Scientific studies show that our sleep is disturbed when we have lights on in our bedrooms from TVs, clocks, cell phones, and all other electronic equipment. The less light, the higher quality our sleep is. At the nursing home, every room had a window. On full moon nights, moonlight would make the outside brighter than any other time of the month and disturb sleep. Maybe it was a cumulative effect on sleep building up to the full moon.
I don’t know about you, but I tend toward, well, a little lunacy when I’m sleep deprived. My reasoning skills are not as sharp, and I certainly lean toward my cranky side. If anyone scientifically charted my behavior, it might well ebb and flow with the moon’s fullness.
The moon will be closer than it has been in eighteen years. I know it’s going to disturb my sleep because it is supposed to be spectacular to see, and I want to see it.
You may be like my friend and most scientists, but before you scoff make note of the behavior of those around you. If nothing else, they may react to the weird looks you are giving them.
I can’t help but speculate that the SuperMoon might be like a full moon on overdrive. I believe people’s behavior will be—interesting. The SuperMoon will be something to behold for believers in the power of moon—and for people watchers everywhere.
Copyright © March 2011 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com/
“That’s an old wives’ tale,” he said. And he laughed at me.
“Hey, if you don’t believe me, just ask anyone who works in a nursing home,” I said. I’ve always been a skeptic about the moon’s influence on human behavior until Jim was a resident at a nursing home. No one had to tell me when the moon was full—it was obvious from the behavior. Residents were restless and agitated at a complete different level.
Okay, so I’ve done a lot of internet research and the scientific sites tend to scoff at the idea that the moon, full or otherwise, would influence behavior. As one site points out, the moon is there all the time whether the sun reflects off it or not.
Astrologers, not astronomers, think the March 19 SuperMoon may cause an increase in natural disasters. In fact, some think the influence of the approaching SuperMoon may have had something to do with the disaster in Japan. I’m not one to align myself with astrologists, so I’m not going to propose that the SuperMoon has anything to do with earthquakes, but I wonder if it will affect human behavior.
Life sometimes teaches us things that science can’t prove. While trolling around the internet, I came across something that makes sense to my practical side. It started with one person who posted that her sleep was disturbed during the full moon. She slept fine the rest of the month, but during the full moon, she could not sleep. Several other people reported the same problem.
Doesn’t this make sense? Scientific studies show that our sleep is disturbed when we have lights on in our bedrooms from TVs, clocks, cell phones, and all other electronic equipment. The less light, the higher quality our sleep is. At the nursing home, every room had a window. On full moon nights, moonlight would make the outside brighter than any other time of the month and disturb sleep. Maybe it was a cumulative effect on sleep building up to the full moon.
I don’t know about you, but I tend toward, well, a little lunacy when I’m sleep deprived. My reasoning skills are not as sharp, and I certainly lean toward my cranky side. If anyone scientifically charted my behavior, it might well ebb and flow with the moon’s fullness.
The moon will be closer than it has been in eighteen years. I know it’s going to disturb my sleep because it is supposed to be spectacular to see, and I want to see it.
You may be like my friend and most scientists, but before you scoff make note of the behavior of those around you. If nothing else, they may react to the weird looks you are giving them.
I can’t help but speculate that the SuperMoon might be like a full moon on overdrive. I believe people’s behavior will be—interesting. The SuperMoon will be something to behold for believers in the power of moon—and for people watchers everywhere.
Copyright © March 2011 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com/
Monday, March 7, 2011
Nasal Spray Vaccine
Those of us who have been following Alzheimer’s research have learned to listen to any news with optimistic caution. The latest research at Tel Aviv University shows promise for a nasal spray that will work on stroke as well as Alzheimer’s.
Is this a case of everything old is new again? When Jim first developed dementia, I read every piece of information I could about research. I checked out drug trials and tried to get him enrolled in an Alzheimer’s vaccine study. I remember reading that best way to introduce a vaccine into the brain was through nasal spray. No, I don’t remember exactly what year it was, but Jim was living at home so it must have been at least eleven years ago.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited about this study. Using animal models, researchers discovered that the drug introduced through nasal spray stimulated the body’s own immune system to repair brain damage caused by Alzheimer’s and strokes related to Alzheimer’s. The numbers being thrown around are that this research drug could help 80% of people with Alzheimer’s. This news would be more exciting if the drug was not so far from being available at the local pharmacy. In fact, the drug has not been used on humans.
Can this be the breakthrough to unlock the mystery of Alzheimer’s? I certainly hope it is. Just like the vaccine studies I tried to get Jim into more than a dozen years ago, this drug shows promise of reversing the damage caused by the disease.
Does anyone else find it a strange coincident that the acronym for the Tel Aviv University is TAU? It first caught my eye when I saw a report that began “TAU researchers develop a vaccine…” The hallmarks of Alzheimer’s are the plaques and tangles that form in the brain. Most research targets removing the beta-amyloid plaques. At first, I thought the statement meant these researchers were concentrating on the tangles which are made up of twisted fibers of tau.
With the woeful funding the USA provides for Alzheimer’s research, it is not surprising that the most exciting news to come along in several years was from Israel. The lack of funding for Alzheimer’s research means that many of the best and brightest USA researchers concentrate on better-funded studies.
Only time will tell whether the vaccine will be the long awaited Alzheimer’s cure, or whether it will be another disappointment to the millions who wait, and wait, and wait. What are they waiting for? They are waiting for that very first Alzheimer’s survivor.
No disease should be without hope. I know that I desperately searched for a ray of hope for the bleak prognosis Jim was given. Why have researchers found effective treatments for AIDS, many types of cancer, heart disease and other diseases, but come up empty with Alzheimer’s? A lot has to do with the priorities and a serious commitment to stopping a killer disease.
Alzheimer’s has a reputation of being a disease for the elderly, and we all know that no one is going to live forever. Early onset Alzheimer’s and related dementias affect people younger than age sixty-five—sometimes decades younger. Regardless of age, Alzheimer’s is a life-altering disease that requires a serious commitment to caregiving and palliative care that can stretch over twenty years.
Today, Alzheimer’s is a fatal, irreversible brain disease. The 5.3 million Americans with Alzheimer’s and 79 million boomers at risk should be encouraged by the TAU study. I believe that eventually a study is going to come along that can stop Alzheimer’s in its insidious tracks. Is it this one? Maybe, maybe not.
Alzheimer’s is a worldwide problem, and every country in the world, including the USA, should participate in finding a solution. At a time when our National Institute of Health funding is on the budget chopping block, we must insist that Alzheimer’s research move forward.
Copyright © March 2011 L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Is this a case of everything old is new again? When Jim first developed dementia, I read every piece of information I could about research. I checked out drug trials and tried to get him enrolled in an Alzheimer’s vaccine study. I remember reading that best way to introduce a vaccine into the brain was through nasal spray. No, I don’t remember exactly what year it was, but Jim was living at home so it must have been at least eleven years ago.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited about this study. Using animal models, researchers discovered that the drug introduced through nasal spray stimulated the body’s own immune system to repair brain damage caused by Alzheimer’s and strokes related to Alzheimer’s. The numbers being thrown around are that this research drug could help 80% of people with Alzheimer’s. This news would be more exciting if the drug was not so far from being available at the local pharmacy. In fact, the drug has not been used on humans.
Can this be the breakthrough to unlock the mystery of Alzheimer’s? I certainly hope it is. Just like the vaccine studies I tried to get Jim into more than a dozen years ago, this drug shows promise of reversing the damage caused by the disease.
Does anyone else find it a strange coincident that the acronym for the Tel Aviv University is TAU? It first caught my eye when I saw a report that began “TAU researchers develop a vaccine…” The hallmarks of Alzheimer’s are the plaques and tangles that form in the brain. Most research targets removing the beta-amyloid plaques. At first, I thought the statement meant these researchers were concentrating on the tangles which are made up of twisted fibers of tau.
With the woeful funding the USA provides for Alzheimer’s research, it is not surprising that the most exciting news to come along in several years was from Israel. The lack of funding for Alzheimer’s research means that many of the best and brightest USA researchers concentrate on better-funded studies.
Only time will tell whether the vaccine will be the long awaited Alzheimer’s cure, or whether it will be another disappointment to the millions who wait, and wait, and wait. What are they waiting for? They are waiting for that very first Alzheimer’s survivor.
No disease should be without hope. I know that I desperately searched for a ray of hope for the bleak prognosis Jim was given. Why have researchers found effective treatments for AIDS, many types of cancer, heart disease and other diseases, but come up empty with Alzheimer’s? A lot has to do with the priorities and a serious commitment to stopping a killer disease.
Alzheimer’s has a reputation of being a disease for the elderly, and we all know that no one is going to live forever. Early onset Alzheimer’s and related dementias affect people younger than age sixty-five—sometimes decades younger. Regardless of age, Alzheimer’s is a life-altering disease that requires a serious commitment to caregiving and palliative care that can stretch over twenty years.
Today, Alzheimer’s is a fatal, irreversible brain disease. The 5.3 million Americans with Alzheimer’s and 79 million boomers at risk should be encouraged by the TAU study. I believe that eventually a study is going to come along that can stop Alzheimer’s in its insidious tracks. Is it this one? Maybe, maybe not.
Alzheimer’s is a worldwide problem, and every country in the world, including the USA, should participate in finding a solution. At a time when our National Institute of Health funding is on the budget chopping block, we must insist that Alzheimer’s research move forward.
Copyright © March 2011 L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Monday, February 28, 2011
Change of Scenery
Life can become so routine that a simple change of scenery can help us gain a new perspective. The change doesn’t have to be drastic; it can be subtle.
I usually work on my netbook in the living room. I have a desk that sits near the patio doors and it is an inspiring place to sit in the summertime. Or, I might use my lap desk and work from the comfort of my couch. This weekend, I decided to work in the kitchen, which has a view of the house next door (people watching), the road (car/tractor watching), a field (cow watching), and my sister-in-law’s bird feeders (bird watching). Geeze, it sure seems like I’m doing a lot of watching, doesn’t it?
So why would you care about my change of scenery? It makes a difference only as it applies to you. If you are a caregiver, a change of scenery is probably something you crave—like a tropical isle far away from your responsibilities. Doesn’t that sound good? Although it may sound like paradise, it most likely seems impossible.
Maybe a complete getaway isn’t on your possibility radar, whether it’s because of your responsibilities or an economic issue. What you can do is something a little simpler to provide a change of scenery. As a caregiver, you need respite. You need time to regroup and refresh so that you can continue to be a good caregiver.
Sometimes, just an afternoon getaway with friends and family, or to just have some alone time can give you a new perspective. A fresh view can revitalized your thinking and make you a better caregiver.
I visited with a caregiver who said she wanted to watch her dad so her mother could have some time away. She had offered, even pleaded with her mom, to let her help. Her mother insisted that she hire a caregiver, but couldn’t find one she trusted.
“What can we do?” the woman asked me. “She just won’t let us help, but I think she’s about to collapse.”
“Try a different angle,” I suggested. “Tell her you want to spend some alone time with your dad. Let her know this is something that would make you happy. Does he like to ride in the car?”
"Oh, yes,” she said. “He loves to go for drives.”
“Take him for a drive and stop at a park for a picnic. It will make him happier, and will give your mom some time to do something she likes to do.”
Had I talked to the mother, I would have encouraged her to take help when it is offered. If a caregiver keeps a list handy, it is easy to find something for family and friends to do. Do you need something from the grocery store? Would your neighbor like to mow the grass? People really do want to help, but they don’t know what to do.
If you are the person offering help to a caregiver, who don’t ever accept—look around to see how you can help. Can you help with some chores? Do you know of an activity that fits the interests of the person with dementia? Did he like to fish? Maybe you could take him fishing to give the caregiver a break. Did she like to cook? Bring the ingredients and make cookies together while you shoo the caregiver away.
I was healthy and in my forties when Jim developed dementia. Our children were grown and my employer allowed me some flexibility so that I was able to keep on working. I had a lot of family support from both Jim’s family and mine. When I needed to hire professionals, I used respite funds from my local Alzheimer’s Association chapter to help offset the expense.
At times, caregiver responsibilities were overwhelming for me, and I couldn’t even imagine how someone in his or her eighties could take care of a spouse. Alzheimer’s can last for years and too often the caregiver gives out before the person with dementia. This is especially true of the selfless caregiver who never takes a break. Being on duty 24/7 can break anyone, no matter how strong.
If you are a caregiver who never takes a break or enjoys a change of scenery from time to time, ask yourself this important question, “Who will take care of my loved one if my health fails?” In this situation, caregiving is all or nothing. If you do it all, you could very easily get to the point where you can’t do any of it. You are headed for a personal mental health crisis if you become mired down with responsibility and give up the activities you love. If you are in crisis, what good are you to your loved one who depends on you?
Copyright © Feb 2011 L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
I usually work on my netbook in the living room. I have a desk that sits near the patio doors and it is an inspiring place to sit in the summertime. Or, I might use my lap desk and work from the comfort of my couch. This weekend, I decided to work in the kitchen, which has a view of the house next door (people watching), the road (car/tractor watching), a field (cow watching), and my sister-in-law’s bird feeders (bird watching). Geeze, it sure seems like I’m doing a lot of watching, doesn’t it?
So why would you care about my change of scenery? It makes a difference only as it applies to you. If you are a caregiver, a change of scenery is probably something you crave—like a tropical isle far away from your responsibilities. Doesn’t that sound good? Although it may sound like paradise, it most likely seems impossible.
Maybe a complete getaway isn’t on your possibility radar, whether it’s because of your responsibilities or an economic issue. What you can do is something a little simpler to provide a change of scenery. As a caregiver, you need respite. You need time to regroup and refresh so that you can continue to be a good caregiver.
Sometimes, just an afternoon getaway with friends and family, or to just have some alone time can give you a new perspective. A fresh view can revitalized your thinking and make you a better caregiver.
I visited with a caregiver who said she wanted to watch her dad so her mother could have some time away. She had offered, even pleaded with her mom, to let her help. Her mother insisted that she hire a caregiver, but couldn’t find one she trusted.
“What can we do?” the woman asked me. “She just won’t let us help, but I think she’s about to collapse.”
“Try a different angle,” I suggested. “Tell her you want to spend some alone time with your dad. Let her know this is something that would make you happy. Does he like to ride in the car?”
"Oh, yes,” she said. “He loves to go for drives.”
“Take him for a drive and stop at a park for a picnic. It will make him happier, and will give your mom some time to do something she likes to do.”
Had I talked to the mother, I would have encouraged her to take help when it is offered. If a caregiver keeps a list handy, it is easy to find something for family and friends to do. Do you need something from the grocery store? Would your neighbor like to mow the grass? People really do want to help, but they don’t know what to do.
If you are the person offering help to a caregiver, who don’t ever accept—look around to see how you can help. Can you help with some chores? Do you know of an activity that fits the interests of the person with dementia? Did he like to fish? Maybe you could take him fishing to give the caregiver a break. Did she like to cook? Bring the ingredients and make cookies together while you shoo the caregiver away.
I was healthy and in my forties when Jim developed dementia. Our children were grown and my employer allowed me some flexibility so that I was able to keep on working. I had a lot of family support from both Jim’s family and mine. When I needed to hire professionals, I used respite funds from my local Alzheimer’s Association chapter to help offset the expense.
At times, caregiver responsibilities were overwhelming for me, and I couldn’t even imagine how someone in his or her eighties could take care of a spouse. Alzheimer’s can last for years and too often the caregiver gives out before the person with dementia. This is especially true of the selfless caregiver who never takes a break. Being on duty 24/7 can break anyone, no matter how strong.
If you are a caregiver who never takes a break or enjoys a change of scenery from time to time, ask yourself this important question, “Who will take care of my loved one if my health fails?” In this situation, caregiving is all or nothing. If you do it all, you could very easily get to the point where you can’t do any of it. You are headed for a personal mental health crisis if you become mired down with responsibility and give up the activities you love. If you are in crisis, what good are you to your loved one who depends on you?
Copyright © Feb 2011 L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Backyard BBQ Beneath the Stars
The thing about an almost 70 degree day in February, the barbeque grills come out from hiding. Football season may be over and there’s no excuse to tailgate, so we just tailgate in our own backyards.
This kind of day is a gift of a summer day in the dead of winter. Smoke drifts to the sky, the odor of hot and spicy, tangy sauce, sizzling hot meat, or grilled vegetables brings the scent of summer.
“It’s like a summer night,” I said.
“Yeah, except there aren’t any bugs,” my friend observed.
“I can’t argue with that,” I said. I walked to the edge of the deck to gaze up at the full moon and twinkling stars. “I’ve heard that city lights can keep people from seeing the stars.” As I stood there looking up at the sky, I thought about how seldom I take time to admire the beauty of a night sky.
With all the things that change in our lives, people coming and going, days filled with work, evenings filled with commitments, and nights that seem way too short for sleeping, the night sky remains unchanged. Some of the beauty twinkling above could have burned out a million years ago, but their light and essence can still be admired on a February night in 2011. Looking at the sky is like looking at history—theirs and mine.
The sky looks the same as it did when I was a child lying on one of my grandma’s quilts thrown on the front yard of my grandparent’s little house north of Stover. The sounds of music filled the air as my uncles played their guitars and sang country songs to blend with a backdrop of cicadas, bullfrogs and whippoorwills.
Those were simple days. As a child, I never knew the pain of loss or the taste of failure. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I had never known anyone that had died. I guess I just thought we would live forever and the days of summer would stretch to the edges of the earth to infinity. Sickness, pain, and sorrow seemed as many light years away as a distant star.
When I drove home after the backyard barbeque, I turned up the volume on my XM Radio. My son had driven my car and left it on Channel 10 which plays old time country music. I was just considering turning it to a different channel but couldn’t resist listening to the Grand Ole Opry staring Hank Williams, Senior, not Junior. I just caught the very end of the show and listening to the hillbilly twang, reminded me of how everyone spoke when I was a child.
The program went back to other old time country music. One thing about country music—it’s usually tells a sad story or laments lost love. Too often the songs on Channel 10, are ones that Jim sang.
Merle Haggard sang the lyrics, “always wanting you, but never having you” and I had an ah-ha moment. Although I always assumed the song was about unrequited love, I suddenly realized it could be about lost love. How many of us know the empty ache of realization that we will never, ever be able to hold a loved one in our arms again?
We can feel that sense of loss when changes brought about by dementia have erased the person we knew. We feel the emptiness of knowing he is still there in some ways, but vanished in others. Jim’s music had always been such a part of him that when he lost his ability to play his guitar, we both lost a chunk of our lives. It was a change we didn’t want.
Maybe when too much has changed, we should look to the sky to remind ourselves that our lives are only a small speck compared to eternity. The sky looks the same to me as it did when I was a kid and looks the same as when my grandparents were kids. When everything changes around us, we need to take a deep breath of fresh air and take comfort in watching the same moon glide across the heavens and knowing that we can’t count the stars.
Copyright © February 2011 by L.S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
This kind of day is a gift of a summer day in the dead of winter. Smoke drifts to the sky, the odor of hot and spicy, tangy sauce, sizzling hot meat, or grilled vegetables brings the scent of summer.
“It’s like a summer night,” I said.
“Yeah, except there aren’t any bugs,” my friend observed.
“I can’t argue with that,” I said. I walked to the edge of the deck to gaze up at the full moon and twinkling stars. “I’ve heard that city lights can keep people from seeing the stars.” As I stood there looking up at the sky, I thought about how seldom I take time to admire the beauty of a night sky.
With all the things that change in our lives, people coming and going, days filled with work, evenings filled with commitments, and nights that seem way too short for sleeping, the night sky remains unchanged. Some of the beauty twinkling above could have burned out a million years ago, but their light and essence can still be admired on a February night in 2011. Looking at the sky is like looking at history—theirs and mine.
The sky looks the same as it did when I was a child lying on one of my grandma’s quilts thrown on the front yard of my grandparent’s little house north of Stover. The sounds of music filled the air as my uncles played their guitars and sang country songs to blend with a backdrop of cicadas, bullfrogs and whippoorwills.
Those were simple days. As a child, I never knew the pain of loss or the taste of failure. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I had never known anyone that had died. I guess I just thought we would live forever and the days of summer would stretch to the edges of the earth to infinity. Sickness, pain, and sorrow seemed as many light years away as a distant star.
When I drove home after the backyard barbeque, I turned up the volume on my XM Radio. My son had driven my car and left it on Channel 10 which plays old time country music. I was just considering turning it to a different channel but couldn’t resist listening to the Grand Ole Opry staring Hank Williams, Senior, not Junior. I just caught the very end of the show and listening to the hillbilly twang, reminded me of how everyone spoke when I was a child.
The program went back to other old time country music. One thing about country music—it’s usually tells a sad story or laments lost love. Too often the songs on Channel 10, are ones that Jim sang.
Merle Haggard sang the lyrics, “always wanting you, but never having you” and I had an ah-ha moment. Although I always assumed the song was about unrequited love, I suddenly realized it could be about lost love. How many of us know the empty ache of realization that we will never, ever be able to hold a loved one in our arms again?
We can feel that sense of loss when changes brought about by dementia have erased the person we knew. We feel the emptiness of knowing he is still there in some ways, but vanished in others. Jim’s music had always been such a part of him that when he lost his ability to play his guitar, we both lost a chunk of our lives. It was a change we didn’t want.
Maybe when too much has changed, we should look to the sky to remind ourselves that our lives are only a small speck compared to eternity. The sky looks the same to me as it did when I was a kid and looks the same as when my grandparents were kids. When everything changes around us, we need to take a deep breath of fresh air and take comfort in watching the same moon glide across the heavens and knowing that we can’t count the stars.
Copyright © February 2011 by L.S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
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