In memory of memory

My cousins and I are standing on the threshold of hell. Or so it is, statistically.

My family is afflicted with Alzheimer’s. The disease has run rampant among the aunts and uncles and cousins in my memory alone. As a 25-year-old therapist, I was horrified to see that on my list of newly assigned patients in a long-established Asheville hospital were two sisters, my father’s first cousins, who were only in the 40-something age range. They had been admitted with “permanent” resident status, meaning no prospective discharge date. They didn’t remember me, my father or each other. They had Alzheimer’s, an affliction that affects more than 5 million people nationwide.

When my grandfather died many years ago, his 80-year-old brother came to the funeral home, appearing healthy and fit. After the service, I heard him say to my grandmother’s sister, a woman he had known for 50 years, “You seem nice. Have I seen you here before?”

My great-aunt replied, “No. I think someone died.”

“Who died?” the brother of the deceased inquired.

“I don’t know,” replied my grandmother’s sister, a spry woman of 82 who had walked two miles a day for years.

As I explored this strange interchange, I learned that both had advanced Alzheimer’s disease.

The most common form of dementia, Alzheimer’s disease is progressive and always fatal, with no definitive cause and presently no cure. It attacks and slowly steals the minds of its victims, resulting in memory loss, confusion, personality changes and eventual loss of all cognitive functioning. In the next 40 years, it is projected that the number of U.S. citizens with this dementia will increase to almost 15 million.

Research has indicated that approximately 75 percent of Alzheimer’s diagnoses occur in families where there is no known history of the disease. One quarter of the people diagnosed can trace a history of dementia in their families—a large number.

As with many other catastrophic illnesses, Alzheimer’s affects more than just the identified patient. The family, especially spouses and children of those afflicted, bear a tremendous burden of care-giving—physically, emotionally and financially. Often the symptoms accompanying the disease make it difficult and draining for family members to shoulder the responsibility of caring for their loved ones, and the expense of long-term care frequently precludes outside professional assistance.

As we baby boomers age, a greater number of us will fall prey to this dreaded disease, and the strain on the health-care system will be monumental. It behooves us to pitch in to help in any way we can to find a cure as quickly as possible.

The WNC chapter of the Alzheimer’s Association is sponsoring its Memory Walk on June 2 at Martin Luther King Park. I’m walking for my father’s cousins, who died much too young. I’m walking for my wonderful aunts and uncles who outlived their memories. I’m walking in gratitude that, so far, my immediate family is healthy and has been spared this terrible thing. I’m walking for my friends who, statistically, will be among the growing numbers of patients. Mostly, I’m walking because I can still choose to do so.

— Marlisa Mills
Black Mountain