"It came to me then, that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time."Death Cab for Cutie
In December my Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimers disease. I don't think any of us were really surprised. For a long time she has had a terrible short term memory. That diagnosis was a firm end stamped on her life. We have no idea how long it will be before things get really bad, but we know the path that will be taken. I swear that I heard a door slam shut in that room. My Mom had just turned 64.
The unexpected side effect of this is what I think most disturbs me. Trust me, I am ill at the thought of watching my Mom slowly forget who we are and lose herself. Who wouldn't be? The thing I am struggling with unexpectedly is that over the past few years my short term memory has been failing too. At first I just thought I wasn't really working out my brain much and that was the cause. I joked with my Mom that I was going to be worse than she was. And then came the diagnosis.
Looking at the research is no comfort. There is a strong genetic component to Alzheimers. A few genes have been linked to the disease. For the most part, having the gene does not guarantee you will get Alzheimers. There is a gene that is linked to early onset Alzheimers which is much more scary. I read a study that said there is a less than 5% chance of NOT developing the disease if you have the gene. Too many unknowns to start freaking out, right? Tell that to my brain. If I had a bunch of money, I would find someone to test me or both of us to see if there was a genetic component. I don't though, so here I sit.
I'm 38 years old. Not a kid, but most people wouldn't feel they needed to think so hard about "the end." I can't seem to help it. There are so many things that I want to do, so many places I want to travel. We've toyed with the idea of moving abroad at some point. I would love that.
I've also given a lot of thought to what a disease like that will do to my family. Crazy as I am, I have researched which countries will allow assisted suicide. Here is where it gets tricky though. If I do somehow get to the Netherlands, presumably I'll be too screwed up to be able to plan it. I can't ask my husband. I'm trying to save pain, not create more. So then who will decide when I'm enough gone that it's time? I'd prefer sooner than later, but I guess I'll have to worry about this later.
In the meantime, I am struggling to deal with what will happen to my Mom. It's almost more than I can bear to think about what this is going to do to her and also to my Dad. So I do what I do about a lot of other painful things. I do my best not to think about it. I also have struggled with what to tell my children. For now, I am telling them nothing. There is no reason they need to share this burden with me. Grandma is forgetful. Oh well.
