Today, I was working on a rent house—cleaning baseboards and repairing cabinet doors, among other things—and I found myself needing a tool from my truck. I remember standing up and walking out of the door of the rent house and my mind just completely blanking out on the walk to my truck. The very reason why I was going to my truck in the first place vanished momentarily from my mind. Or, at another point, I found myself simply walking into another room and losing my train of thought. And, for whatever reason, the very recognition of this—my cognizance of these moments—just wore me down. I think, as the day went on, it even got to the point where I may have gotten a little cross with people that I interacted. They were very subtle, those emotional frustrations, but they were there.
This cognizance, though, has gone far beyond today. It has been something my mind has made remembrance of for weeks now.
Sitting down at my computer with an express purpose in my head and blanking out, staring at the screen for a good two to three minutes trying to recall what I was going to do. Or leaving a cup of paint out by mistake and finding it the next morning with that dried latex skim formed across the top. Something I had always been good about remembering to do…or what I remember about always being good at remembering.
It was back in October of last year when my dad’s diagnosis was confirmed as Alzheimer’s, the thought did sporadically cross my mind: there is a chance that this is inherited. I think in the year since then, my recognition of that possibility has grown more tangible, more real. I am starting to notice my own forgetfulness more and more as the days grow further and further from my dad’s diagnosis.
Now, all of this evidence—that I have become aware of in my day to day life—is a double-edged sword. I, like my dad, may have always been just a bit forgetful and just had not been aware of it before now. The Alzheimer’s diagnosis of my dad may have been the catalyst for me to actively notice my own forgetfulness more vividly. However, in the midst of this new cognizance, there is the other edge of that sword, the sharper one it seems. I have started searching for a proof-text that would reveal my very own fate. Seeking the phantom key that would piece together all of the clues that are present in my own activity and my own memory—the very things my family and I might have missed recognizing in my dad earlier on. In other words, whether I, too, will end up with Alzheimer’s or not. My mind has now started accusing and doubting itself. It checks off every thought and activity lost to the ether in the moments of every day.
Every single proof, every piece of evidence, is brought before my very eyes by my mind, a mind I am no longer sure I can completely trust. At least, the seeds of doubt have been planted by the mere suggestion of my own possible descent into this disease. Once that doubt becomes real—that it might be following a similar trajectory—that doubt is held up against all things thought and known. It is a vicious cycle.
But there is no going back. Not now. My mind has already grasped hold and run with it; attempting to piece together a new reality, whether it is true or a mere ghost in the machine. All I know is that I am, now, very cognizant of my own forgetfulness, my blanking out, and my lost trains of thought.
The potentially uplifting side of this realization is that I am simply forgetful and I just had an imperfect understanding of that characteristic before. Literally, my mind is playing tricks on me. Or…
Maybe this is what my dad went through at one moment when he was my age. Maybe his forgetfulness became very real and tangible to him and he, too, came to this moment of realization. But, maybe, he decided to think nothing of it, a mere forgetfulness, nothing more. People forget stuff all of the time.
And that may have been the narrative, the reality, he held onto, no, clinched with sweaty fists. That is, until that explanation no longer could stand up against the monolithic truth, the grievous revelation that came crashing down on him last October. It might be possible that early glimpse, his mind proof-texting the evidence, was something more than mere momentary self-awareness. Maybe it was a precognitive foreshadowing of something much darker to come.
I don’t know. And that’s the problem. I am not a glass half-full kinda guy. Don’t think I ever have been or ever will be. The simple fact that my mind is cataloging all of this now since inheritance of ALZ has become a real possibility for me is a little frightening no matter how brave of a face I put on. The positive thinkers will look at this post and say, yeah, I suppose it is a possibility but as of right now, you just forget some stuff, no big deal. And though I am drawn to that resolution to the conundrum, it’s simply not possible for me to grasp. It’s easy for people who don’t have that knowledge right in front of them to say that, because the weight is not real to them.
But, by God, it is real to me. All I get is a nagging in the back of my head that says that it is in the realm of believability my dad had a similar conversation with himself at some point. And that, maybe, he grasped onto the positive spin on the endless cataloging of forgetfulness and blanking out. Yet I have never successfully been able to shut it off. And it is that very realization that occurred to me today:
This is now my life. A life of second-guessing and distrusting a mind that may be on a slow path of decay or it may just be making me more aware of already existing traits in the light of my dad’s diagnosis. But. How am I to know? That’s the slippery part of this whole thing. To me, right now, my mind is nothing more than a big question mark of reliability. How can I trust the one thing that may be faltering, even now?
I suppose that is the nature of the potential of inherited diseases. If the possibility is there, the mind will start focusing in on the traits that affirm my presupposed self-diagnosis. Once again, that is even a positive way to look at it. It still holds out that the mind is making of the actual evidence more than what really is there and, really, it may just be a ghost. A phantom that will never actually exist. But, then, there is the very real possibility of actual inheritance and, then, the mind’s focus becomes a lot more like a revelation, a slow descent into a reality where nothing and no one can be trusted, because prior knowledge and recognition isn’t there anymore.
I don’t know fully what my dad is going through right now. But, on days like this, I wonder if my dad and I, in our own timelines, may have found ourselves in similar moments of recognition and revelation about who we are, where we are going and what narrative we are going to hang onto to survive.
I wonder if my dad, too, at some point, thought that maybe the forgetfulness was something more and maybe the thought crossed his mind, like it has mine, of finding himself older, alone and isolated with a mind he can’t trust and no one to grab on to when everyone becomes a stranger. I have stood in the middle of rent houses, dead in my tracks, and had that thought, that very real feeling. And the world suddenly got much colder. And more gray.
But, still, I wonder if he had that same thought at some point in his life. Because, at least, in it’s own way, I know that we are, at least, together in that trajectory.
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9 responses to “Inheritance”
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My grandfather and great grandfather died of complications due to Alzheimers. It is honestly one of my greatest fears. I love to read and think. I am well educated and really can’t imagine life without my mental faculties.
But I have two other complications in addition to yours mentioned in the post. My parents had me young. So although I am now almost 42, my mom just turned 60 a few months ago. So in addition to my own fears about my own Alzheimer’s, what concerns me more is whether my Mom forgetting something is a sign of her Alzheimers. My grandfather started showing signs in his early 60s and I remember that. (He passed away at 77 nearly 2 years ago.
It was partially my grandfather’s death that lead my wife and I to reconsider our previous decision to not have children. So now I have a 13 month old daughter and a son due at the end of March. Which, means that if I also start showing signs of Alzheimers in my early 60s, my children won’t be in their 40s, but most likely in college or even high school.
I have always been a bit ADD and scattered. I have worked at home virtually my whole career because the standard 9 to 5 thing doesn’t work well for me. Now I am a stay at home Dad and work from home about 20 hours a week doing internet based consulting. The pay is pretty good and I can squeeze it in around nap times and in the evenings. But I never know how much I am just excusing myself and how much I should grow up and get a real job and force myself into some more standard mold.
A final thought is that what eventually killed both my grandfather and great grandfather is pneumonia. But I can’t help but thinking there is some positives of not really taking care of yourself if you have potential of Alzheimers. Wouldn’t it be better to die of a heart attack than spend 15 or so years healthy but without any mental faculties? (But my father in law died young of a heart attack and I know that the choice is not so simple.)
Thanks for reading and sharing, Adam.
It is a vicious cycle in the every day living of life. If I am not concerned or anxious about my father’s health and downward trajectory then I am contemplating and analyzing my own potentialities. I cannot even imagine what adding kids into that equation would do. I am still single and fairly unattached outside of immediate family and a handful of close friends. I think this will only make it more difficult for me to consider truly being serious about getting into relationships and having kids. But, on the other side of things, I also know that those fears and hesitations are their own little mechanisms I am using to grasp any control I might have over my life. It’s showing the fractures in my faith.
And, trust me, my dad’s diagnosis and his moments of weakness where he expresses his want of a shorter life make complete sense and there is nothing I can say to negate those feelings, because, like you said, I would take a heart attack, stroke, or any other ailment over complete loss of mind, memory and cognizance. So I feel you there. Most of the time I am at a loss for words when talking about this… but then it just hits me like a ton of bricks and I feel compelled to write it down.
I am just glad to know that people can read this and find that they are not alone in this and it is encouraging to me to know the same.
Anyways, thanks for reading Adam. I will certainly being praying for your mother and you, both, that this is not the outcome for you.
without any direct anticipation of something like Alzheimers or any other deadly ailment (at least at the moment) I feel a lot of identification with what i take to be your confrontation with a possible downward bodily trajectory, just through the experience of aging in the past 10-15 years (as i push the age of 60). i guess the point that’s hitting home is that the trajectory downward isnt optional, the discouraging aspect of time’s passage at this point in life. The only comfort being an eventual prospect of decay’s reversal; the aphtharsia of 1 Cor 15:42.
Thanks, Tom, for reading and I am glad you could relate with it. I couldn’t agree more with your conclusion that really the only comfort we have in life is solidly placed in the hope we have that God’s work on the cross was the great reversal of death. Some days that is the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that my dad and myself are believers and that God will finish what he has started.
Thanks again, for the comment!
I just read this article today! Sorry that I am not keeping up with your writing as a mother should. This brings me to tears. I want a normal life for you son and I don’t want you to be thinking of the way things could be, but how they are in the present. I want you to not worry about your future before it even happens. I understand your concern for what may come, believe me because I am living with it daily, but it is in the future and you are not even sure that it will come your way. Fear can be a manipulator of life that causes unhappiness, concern, worry, and eventually, in some cases, deep depression. I don’t want that for you, my son. I want you to love life and experience it! I want you to drop your lot, whatever it may be, into the hands of your Heavenly Father and not look back. Let him guide you through your life and eventually into eternity because I know you are a believer. You are here for a purpose! We all are. Some of us never figure out our purpose, but God uses us anyway in the ways that he knows we need to be used. I think he is using you through your writing because you do a wonderful job and I believe you give God the glory through your writing so keep up the good work and don’t worry about “what may happen”. “Just breathe” as Christy would say. I love you, son. This piece is heartfelt and I am so sorry you are hurting so deeply and I as a mother didn’t realize it until I read this piece!
Blake
I had a conversation with your dad once after he knew he had this disease ,he told me he didn’t know how much longer he was going to be around he was scared and feeling alone . I told your dad he was NOT alone because he had a very strong friend base that would never let him go through anything like this and that was proven at his birthday party do you agree? I love your dad like a brother will never forget the friendship we have together .
I want you to know that you are commanded by your Heavenly Father not to worry! After all what good does it do to worry ? You are a smart young man arnt you? Think about it you will probably see a cure for Alzheimers in your life time so stand on your Faith and believe that God will take care of you . Where do you think those thoughts come from any way the devil don’t let him get away with putting those thoughts into your head. if you ever need to talk give me a call.
I can relate. My mother is diagnosed with early stages. As I watch her struggle I’m quickly reminded by that nagging voice ‘your next’… here if you ever want to grab coffee and vent. Promise. I get it. I grew up along side Christy. Big hugs & lots of prayers your way. Thank you for this. Now I know, I’m not alone. You’ve made what seemed like a cold world seem warm if only for a passing moment. God Bless You Blake!
Blake
I’ve known your Mom since she was obtaining her Masters degree and was pregnant with you. I met your Dad as well. Both of them are two of the nicest people that you will ever meet.
I lost my grandmother at age 100 a couple of months ago to dementia/Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed about 15 years ago. All of a sudden there we’re many situations that made sense to us from years before. Had my grandmother been so adept at hiding it from us (she lived by herself) I believe she would have been diagnosed many years ago. Alzheimer’s was hell for both her and for us. However, we still loved each other, found reasons to laugh together, ways to assist her while she allowing her to maintain her dignity and ways for her and for us to cope with it.
My Mom died at the age of 62. In her lifetime, she was diagnosed at age 7 months with diabetes. Together my Dad, Mom and I also faced heart disease (a triple bypass), breast cancer, mini strokes and dementia before her death. All I heard from the doctors was my likelihood to have all or one of these diseases.
I’m very much a realist. But, I learned from my Mom that God is more powerful than a mere doctor, that He hears our prayers, that he performs miracles, and that we just need to place our faith in Him.
Blake, I was 39 when my Mom passed away. I decided before she died that I could worry and create fear in myself that her diseases would happen to me or I could let go and trust God. I turn 55 in July. I do NOT have any of the diseases that my Mom or Grandma did. I do not believe that I ever will either.
My life verse became Matthew 6:34, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough worries of it’s own.”
Love well, live your life, and create your own happiness. You are in my prayers Blake.