Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, November 13, 1994 TAG: 9411180031
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: B3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ELIZABETH STROTHER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Issues, not personality, were what she cared about, and she disagreed with the man about almost everything. Reaganomics, Star Wars, all that Evil Empire rhetoric. You name it.
Mom doesn't talk politics anymore. She's past the early stages of Alzheimer's that Reagan reportedly has entered, and the disease now has robbed her of the mental feistiness that kept her interested in public-policy debates even after she could no longer handle the mechanics of the voting booth.
I doubt she'd even recognize Reagan's name these days.
But if she could understand the news about him, perhaps she would find something to admire about the man's grace. His letter to the public eight days ago, revealing the diagnosis of early-stage Alzheimer's, was poignant and brave, a dignified way to break the news.
Reagan's decision to share his doctors' verdict with the public was both wise and an act of public service, probably his last. It was wise because the alternative for someone of his stature likely would have been years of media speculation about his mental decline, fed by unattributed reports of increasingly bizarre behavior. Secrecy begs for scrutiny. His candor might spare his wife, Nancy, some pain.
And it was a public service because, as he noted, his acknowledgment might raise awareness of this tragic illness. With awareness, perhaps, will come more financial support for research, and greater moral support - understanding, compassion and time - for Alzheimer's sufferers and their families.
If so, the 4 million Americans who have this disease, their families, and the millions more expected to develop it will owe Ronald Reagan a great debt. What he did took guts.
Going public must have been an agonizing choice. One trait Mother's day-care pals share with her is a talent for covering up their mental deterioration as much as possible. Intelligent, competent, independent adults want to stay that way - and to appear that way even after their abilities start to erode.
The irony of this disease is that the less the loss of abilities, the more the realization and anguish for the person with Alzheimer's; as the loss grows, the awareness fades - but the realization and anguish increase for the family.
You hope for the day when she is unaware of her decline, and cry to realize what this also will mean. She will be that much farther from you and all things familiar that give her a sense of security; she will be that much closer to total disconnect from this world.
I will never forget how angry Mother was when my brothers first took her to a gerontologist to be tested for dementia. The doctor asked her a series of simple questions: What day is this? What month? Who is president of the United States? She answered a good many correctly, but she felt humiliated. "It was like they thought I was an idiot!" she complained bitterly.
The diagnosis: She was almost certainly in the early stages of dementia, probably of Alzheimer's. Since there was no medical course of treatment at that time, we didn't take her back for almost two years. By then her ability to answer the questions had dropped dramatically, but she was no longer offended by them.
I can't speak for all families of Alzheimer's people, but mine has found it a challenge to strike the delicate balance of watching and directing and caring for Mother when she needs help, while trying always to treat her as an adult and preserve her dignity.
It was a lesson in humility for me when I took over from my brother Jon, her primary care-giver, for just a couple of weeks, and realized the bottomless well of patience from which he must draw. " ... OK, Mom, now put this sock on the other foot. No, the other one. Good. Now put this shoe on. No, don't take that sock off!
"OK, put that sock on this foot ...''
Yet you know the ultimate failure is to get angry. An adult with Alzheimer's is not a child testing boundaries. She is doing the best she can. So where patience fails you fall back on humor because, really, such a production to get one person shod will drive you mad if you can't find anything funny in it.
I can well understand that my brother needed help, first enrolling Mother in day care, then hiring in-home care every weeknight. The respite is invaluable - and expensive.
Many who struggle to care for a loved one with Alzheimer's do not get that kind of break, either because they can't afford it or they simply don't seek it out.
"Alzheimer's disease strikes equally at men and women, all races, and all socioeconomic groups," a brochure from the Alzheimer's Association informs me. But while I acknowledge with sorrow that it will spare Ronald Reagan no more than it will spare my mother, I know its financial effects do not strike equally.
He will have all the care he needs. We hope Mother will, that she will not outlive the resources available. Friends and family must help those struggling to cope alone.
This is such a private disease. Marked as it is by loss of mental function, families naturally want to shield its victims from public indignities. But if ever an illness demanded a community response, it is this one. No one can carry the burden alone.
If you know a care giver, offer a little care.
by CNB