Day Oneteenth

It hit me today as I was driving to work. I should try to diary the experience I'm about to embark on: dealing with my Mom and Alzheimer's. I saw the exercise posted as an activity for those who've been diagnosed, but I don't know how the hell they'll keep up when they forget how to type or don't know their name. So why not me? I'll keep the diary, a blog for today's times.

My wife's mother went through it- for 13 years, and died last year. Both my grandparents on my mom's side went through it, and both died from complications of it. Close friends parents have died from it or are going through it now. It's all around me, and now it's upon me.

It's been a year now since myself and my family first starting noticing a problem with mom's memory. It was a few of those funny forgetful moments that we all laughed about. "What are you talking about?" was the typical comment from us. I guess I need to provide a little history about her, her life leading up to this moment, and where we are today.

She'll turn 75 this year and is in pretty good health and a bit overweight. She takes what looks to be the typical dose of meds as prescribed by a myriad of physicians and her own volition: heart, thyroid, tylenol, vision, vitamins. Two years ago she ended up in the ER with a bowel obstruction and upon further review, cancerous polyps were found and surgically removed. So far, no other events since then. She's still good about monitoring pill dosages and remembering when she takes them and how many she took.

She lived in Arizona for the past 18 years with my stepdad, but he died three years ago and now she's decided to move back to Wisconsin permanently. This is her second summer back here and will be her first winter here in quite a long time (20 yrs?). It's the Summer of 2010, the grass is green, the days are wonderfully long. Mom lives alone in a condo about an hour from my house. My sister was close by, but recently moved about 30 minutes North. Her grandson moved into my sister's house, so he's still close. Other than him and his wife, we're all in the "bothersome" driving range to go to her house on a regular basis. Isn't it funny how parents become bothersome as we get older? Wonder what I was like at say, at 14...