DID I MENTION DEMENTIA?

Charlie and His Wife

          When I woke up early this morning, while rubbing the sleep from my wrinkly old eyes, I felt that I'd forgotten something but I couldn't imagine what? As soon as I was completely dressed, had combed all the knots out of my long grey hair, had squeezed my denture plate into place so it wasn't clacking, I was on a mission. It wasn't until I arrived in the middle of the living room and was gazing at the family photos hanging on the wall that it finally came to me - I'd somehow misplaced my mind. I was confused. I knew where I was but didn't know where I was going that seemed to be so mega-important when I set out. Confusion and dementia often go together like vodka and orange juice and depending on how many shots you put down, the symptoms can be identical. However, being confused and forgetful seems to be happening a wee bit more lately. I put it down to chemo-brain and then again, if I really put things into perspective, it's never been that unusual for me to get a thought in my head, which I'm really concentrating on, and then tend to get sidetracked, go off in another direction. At least that's my story, I may be forgetful and confused at times but I don't have dementia and I'm sticking to that story!

          At age 78, there are quite a few things wrong with me physically but as far as I know, dementia hasn't set in. And although I may not be really ancient, something not everyone knows, is that you don't have to be old to have dementia come knocking at your door. For instance, around 55 years of age, I used to volunteer at a place for the elderly and mentally unstable. In the morning, when I first arrived, I used to spoon-feed a man his porridge who was quite a bit younger than me. He was a gentle giant who stood about 6'4" and unlike me, his hair hadn't even turned grey. I don't know if any of his family came to visit him and if they didn't it wouldn't have mattered since his last remaining memory was his name, which oddly enough, I can't remember.

           Also, I remember a woman, only 50 years of age, who had a smile that would light up a room. She was a kindly gentle soul and had been an elementary teacher. Can you imagine driving a car to pick someone up and then forgetting how to drive - well, that's what happened to her and she was in traffic going down a hill. (Luckily, the accident wasn't severe and no one was injured.) But not everyone who comes down with dementia is gentle and has a warm disposition. I recall a man around age 65. He was a retired lawyer and a miserable bastard. He actually attacked one of the residents with a razor and sliced his head up. And another patient had been a housewife, who at first was very kind and social but then turned into some sort of demon - even her voice changed - the raging language spoken sounding more than just foreign.

          I don't think it's unusual to have a favourite person to look after and I would have to say mine was an 85 year old man who's name was Charlie. He was admitted shortly after his wife had died. Since he and his wife had been swimmers, Scotch-taped to the door of his room was a huge photo of him and his wife in their younger years. They were wearing bathing suits and he was holding her arms-length above his head. I took him swimming once a week and one day as we were doing laps, I looked behind me and much to my surprise he'd disappeared. When I saw him almost at the bottom at the deep end of the pool, I dove down and pulled him to the surface. When I asked him why he was under the water, he told me he didn't know. Before resuming our swim, I asked him if he was alright and was still able to continue. When he replied everything was fine, we started swimming again. After a few strokes, I looked behind me and there was Charlie sitting down at the bottom of the pool and looking up at me. That was the last time we went swimming because his mind had deteriorated to the point where he had forgotten how to swim.

           Of course not all the people at the facility weren't losing their minds. One girl, only 18, had been in a terrible auto accident and although her mind was fine, she couldn't do anything for herself. Another woman around 60 had been a scientist and she had some sort of degenerating bone disease. I remember while hugging her, feeling and hearing her bones crackling - it was very weird.

          So, you don't have to be old to have dementia sneak up on you with real soft paws to wind up in such a facility. The only thing I really know about being old is that I may not come down with dementia, sooner or later something is going to do me in - no one gets out of here alive...cheers, eh!