OK, I WILL GET TO JR JOHN DEERE AND POOL WARS BUT FIRST.....

It has been a rather different week all in all. One of my principal motives in this blog, along with honoring the memory of my father, is to write about Alzheimer's. How it effected him, our family, people he worked with, friends and naturally, me! Hopefully in a good selfish manner.

Several situations came up over the past week, which my convoluted brain relates to my concerns regarding Alzheimer's. The first Life of Susan event was when I went to fill a gas can for the lawn mower and a bit of gas into my vehicle. I gave the clerk $I5 and proceeded outside where I put $5 into the gas can. Then when inserting the nozzle into the gas tank.......oh, that would be when I realized that the nozzle didn't fit into the hole. Due to the fact that I had punched the diesel fuel selection. So now I had $5 of diesel fuel in the gas can and had to go back in to straighten out getting the remaining $10 converted to gasoline/unleaded.  I have never done this before. It would never occur to me that I wouldn't have noticed I had punched the wrong pump button. I had no point of reference to process just why I'd done it and more importantly hadn't realized the mistake while I filling the gas can, diesel is a different in color, after all.

That would have been disturbing enough, but last Wednesday another even more unexplainable event. My health care is all under the umbrella of the Veteran's Administration-a tale left for other posts. The previous week I had my annual Mammogram, contracted out to a local health care system. Wednesday afternoon I got a phone call informing me due to a 'change from the previous year' they would need to do further scans on my left side and an ultra sound. Whatever. Due to experience, although informed by the caller that my initial appointment letter gave authorization for any additional tests, I knew better than to take a chance. So I called the Lebanon VA Hospital to inform and request a decision and official approval.

Having been in the military and with life in the US in general, reciting my SSN is as automatic as breathing. It just rattles out requiring no brain wave activity what so ever. If asked to write it down a bit of thought might be required but overcome quickly by simply reciting it out loud, as I wrote, would fix that. So when asked I babbled out XXX-XX-XXXX. The nurse replied with a "no that's not it." ????? I then said, "well wait, let me empty my mind {won't take long} and I'll provide my SSN. Same result. I was flummoxed. I began to change the order or digits in the first 3 numbers as I thought the rest was correct. Nothing. I apologized and explained I would grab something with the SSN on it. I emptied the shredding can as tons of VA stuff awaited shredding and it always has my SSN. Nothing. The beginnings of a little 'internal' panic began but making a joke, said I had to go upstairs and get one of my military files, certainly my SSN would be on ALL of those documents. The first military folder I grabbed and opened.... was  my Father's service record. Then I grabbed a file of my medical bills as surely my SSN was on some of them. Nothing. Although verbally I'm was still the master of glib on the phone, my search was becoming frantic as I grabbed another file. Relief, it was documents from my time in service and the first document was my DD214/Discharge Papers from my commissioning, discharged from Officer's Candidate School as an E-5 in order to be commissioned the next day as an Ensign. I gave her the correct SSN, we joked around, finished the call and I hung up.

It may seem odd that these two incidents brings me to thinking about Alzheimer's.
But the unique lapse of recall and inattention over the gasoline was troubling. Do the incidents mean Alzheimer's has invaded my brain, hardly. But I do

have an internal struggle dealing with all the nuances of Alzheimer's. Because the reactions to my questions has resulted in what it seems a disorganized 'front' of the REAL ANSWERS given by the Medical Profession. OK, what disorganized front? Declaimer: any of the assumptions I write of would be gratefully corrected if anyone desires to do so.

I'm not at all knowledgeable about disease, treatments, diagnosis, cause or anything else regarding medical matters. But in my experience dealing with Alzheimer's I can't seem to get a definitive answer on ANYTHING. Let's start with, did my Dad have Alzheimer's. Hm. There is no definitive diagnosis for the disease of Alzheimer's, which I have frequently been told by medical personnel.  The test result report from the Neurologist, which resulted in my Father losing his license, never once used the word ALZHEIMER'S. Lots of 'decreasing cognitive ability' said numerous times and ways in the report, but the word ALZHEIMER'S? Never. The doctor would never commit to "Your Father is suffering with Alzheimer's". So every time I see or hear that X or Y died from or is with suffering from Alzheimer's I'm baffled. How do they know the person has Alzheimer's? Haven't I been repeatedly informed it can't be positively diagnosed. 

Then the matter of genetics being a factor in the disease. I'm told from Alzheimer sites and reports I've read there is no 'proven' genetic connection. Which brings me to question genetic relevance to any other disease, such as Coronary or Cancer. But, they still ask all those questions on all those forms at any medical appointment. "Has anyone in your family had----------." Is Cancer hereditary? My understanding of cancer or heart issues is they ask the question, not because we inherit the actual disease. But rather the genetics that may have caused X to have developed cancer make it more likely that X Jr. may also develop cancer. I am baffled that if that is the approach for other diseases that attack our bodies cell structures, why wouldn't that same theory apply to Alzheimer's. But, I have yet to see if 'anyone in your family has Alzheimer's' question on any of those repetitive endless medical forms.

I often dumb into or onto, as in simply found myself dialing in a radio or TV channel which is discussing Alzheimer's, and heard it said that 'if a parent has Alzheimer's {How do they know if they can't diagnosis it???} That a child has a 50/50 chance they may also develop the disease. Not being one to pass up an opportunity to score-another trait inherited from my Father-when the non diagnosis of my Father was presented to us on Dec 10, 2008 I emailed my brother. There are only 2 of so that made the 50/50 idea perfect. I told him that since our paternal Grandma seemed to suffer from dementia aka Alzheimer's and Dad was enduring a deja vu of what we saw her go through-odds were one of us would be next. And I was betting it was HIM. He didn't seem to think that was humorous but I did.

In reality though, in my pragmatic view of life---it will be me. No I'm not a pessimist. I'm a PRAGMATIST. So my approach is since a glass may have a hole in it, half full or half empty is irrelevant. Does that mean I'll die of thirst? Not at all. What it means is that if I want a drink of water from the glass I should be prepared to fix a hole should it occur. As a pragmatist it benefits me to always prepare for the worst case scenario if I am to overcome an obstacle. Alzheimer's potential for a pragmatist means if I have to deal with the disease its best to know it may visit my body. Not how to defeat this disease but rather how to prepare myself to the end that caring for myself may not be an option.

I began to look at possibilities to determine if Alzheimer's may genetically linked. That the same genetic makeup which caused my grandmother and father to develop the disease may be present in my cell structure. The results of those few inquiries has been dismal. There is a simple blood test to identify the 'factor' which may herald a higher risk of developing Alzheimer's. But when asking my Doctor at the VA about it the response wasn't regarding the possibility of having the test. The reaction was 'Why do you want to know that, What could you do about it anyway." More a assessment of my sanity than my interest in my health.

The incidents really aren't earth shattering and could easily happen to anyone. But they happened to me. Disconcerting. 

Ah, yes-the Junior John Deere

Today the rain is still dripping and so I've stayed at home and done things here. Home is simply a rented townhouse in a rental community. Over the 2 years since my Mom returned, with my Dad resting in his urn, to Pennsylvania from snowbirding in South Carolina~~the house I spoke of in the blog description, has absorbed my attention. As the time has passed I've brought items down or spoke with her regarding the ultimate destination of these possesions. At first it seemed the answer to any question I had regarding this or that was to 'get rid of it'. Cleaning out after the passing of a loved one is an emotional deluge anyway. Plus my Dad was your basic pack rat sort, as am I. For him everything had potential for "I Can Fix That" or "I Might Need That Later".

But as the parasite Alzheimer's began to attack my Dad, even before we realized the disease was taking hold, the pack rat mentality was slowly morphing into hoarding. He didn't buy things or keep things just because and there were things he did get rid of. The sort of hoarding variety it was came in 2 forms. One was the 'good deal' sort where items where purchased for future projects. But as his memory was attacked and when a project was tackled he either couldn't remember where he had put it or didn't recall having previously purchased the item. And the 'do it myself' side of him rejected offers of helping with the project or even finding materials he had put away. Or he would ask for help with a project but when the designated time arrived to assist, there were always 'THINGS I HAVE TO DO FIRST BEFORE I NEED YOUR HELP'. And those things never got done either they were OBE {Overcome By Events} or/and the ever growing just not physically able. So the pile of materials grew.

The second type of hoarding was the result of fear of sharing control. So rather than allow others to throw things out or assist to clear away the piles, his response was always to do it himself or later. More and more frequently the anger and fear he refused to acknowledge would result in huge fights over cleaning off his desk or any other areas of his.

We wanted and requested he seek medical assistance about the forgetfulness. And once we opened that door the fear and anger kidnapped more and more of my Dad's life. No matter how many times we said the purpose for seeking answers was not to control him but rather to identify IF anything was causing the problems and what could be done to deal with it, the idea was rejected. We never used the word Alzheimer's. And he was well aware of his loss of memory but his view was it wasn't due to anything wrong with his brain. He viewed our suggestion of medical advice as a challenge of his competence.

Over the last 10 years of his life there were many hospital stays for what was a never  clearly defined physical problem. Issues with his requesting what day it was a dozen times a morning wasn't due to anything within him, it was due to the stress we were placing on him. He did deal with heart disease starting at 52 but a triple by pass had basically resolved that issue. And well over decade later, the life expectancy of the bypass, he still was going strong. Eventually there were stents, clearing of carotid artery and what seemed an unending onslaught of medications added, increased, reduced or deleted.

The oft used phrase from my Navy days.....WHEN YOU'RE UP TO YOUR ASS IN ALLIGATORS ITS DIFFICULT TO REMEMBER THAT THE INITIAL OBJECTIVE IS TO DRAIN THE SWAMP. The material which was growing around the house became one of the alligators interrupting the goal of draining the swamp, dealing with Alzheimer's.

The point I started to speak of at the beginning? The John Deere and the house full of 'stuff'. We still have both John Deere's and I'm still going to tackle the second one. And I've gone through so much, thrown out so much, organized so much and brought home items to be used where we live. I've put things into a storage locker. My brother has taken a few items and no doubt will acquire other items from the house. But the original John Deere? It still sits on the cement slab behind the house. We know someone who has taken other metal collected during the last 2 years. He will take the John Deere. I just need to call him.

The junior John Deere~~~~HM BET I CAN FIX THAT!