The book: Still Alice by Lisa Genova. A novel about early-onset Alzheimer's.
The back story: Last Saturday, I left the lights on in the CRV and it was dead when I got out of the grocery store. I had left my cell phone on top of the piano. At 9:00 AM, I felt fragile, tired, foggy. Because of store policy about liability, and my own fragile timidity, and the very strange circumstance of not knowing a single person in the store, I used the store phone to call roadside assistance ($3/ month well-spent). I had to wait an hour, and bought a book to pass the time. What attracted me to this novel? The subject: I teach about aging. I read and wept the rest of the weekend.
At my age, there are three, maybe four, reasons to lose a thought: age, multi-tasking, menopause, and, of course, Alzheimer's. The book -- with a rich resource file in the back pages -- makes it clear that only one of three genetic mutations may result in early-onset Alzheimer's. Since I have no blood relatives with Alzheimer's, statistically I am very unlikely to get the disease until I am really old. Comforting!
Yet, I wonder.... I am fascinated by aging, and determined to age gracefully and inspirationally! But there was that mis-spent youth.... How many times do I forgive myself for forgetting something? How frightened should I be when I spend a few moments not sure what day it is or to what school I should be driving? There is a sense -- today anyway, as I prepare for the first class of one, and the start of two next week -- that there is just simply no room in my brain for any other thoughts. I work. I keep the house standing. I eat and rest and take my vitamins. I take the dog out and generally have a few thoughts while outside about spring garden plans. But, the blog is put-off; re-organizing the bathroom is delayed; the ironing basket fills; a date with my husband just doesn't fit in the calendar. Friends? I have to make dates and mentally categorize them with "work" so I can find no reason to cancel a walk or a cuppa meeting. Is everyone's life like this?
The back story: Last Saturday, I left the lights on in the CRV and it was dead when I got out of the grocery store. I had left my cell phone on top of the piano. At 9:00 AM, I felt fragile, tired, foggy. Because of store policy about liability, and my own fragile timidity, and the very strange circumstance of not knowing a single person in the store, I used the store phone to call roadside assistance ($3/ month well-spent). I had to wait an hour, and bought a book to pass the time. What attracted me to this novel? The subject: I teach about aging. I read and wept the rest of the weekend.
At my age, there are three, maybe four, reasons to lose a thought: age, multi-tasking, menopause, and, of course, Alzheimer's. The book -- with a rich resource file in the back pages -- makes it clear that only one of three genetic mutations may result in early-onset Alzheimer's. Since I have no blood relatives with Alzheimer's, statistically I am very unlikely to get the disease until I am really old. Comforting!
Yet, I wonder.... I am fascinated by aging, and determined to age gracefully and inspirationally! But there was that mis-spent youth.... How many times do I forgive myself for forgetting something? How frightened should I be when I spend a few moments not sure what day it is or to what school I should be driving? There is a sense -- today anyway, as I prepare for the first class of one, and the start of two next week -- that there is just simply no room in my brain for any other thoughts. I work. I keep the house standing. I eat and rest and take my vitamins. I take the dog out and generally have a few thoughts while outside about spring garden plans. But, the blog is put-off; re-organizing the bathroom is delayed; the ironing basket fills; a date with my husband just doesn't fit in the calendar. Friends? I have to make dates and mentally categorize them with "work" so I can find no reason to cancel a walk or a cuppa meeting. Is everyone's life like this?
The picture: my babies. They are all grown-up now: beautiful, successful, happy. I have to look at pictures to remind myself of what they looked like! That oldest child look of disdain, the lovely halo of hair that morphed into a Hawk, and the bald round girl who looks now like a California babe. The years fly by! Family dynamics change. I'll keep the pictures handy to look at, and crane my neck around the corner a new day -- and save some brain room for new memories.
