Thursday, December 16, 2010

313. Ask

When I call my mom I don't know what to say. So much of her life is now defined by her illness. She doesn't work, read, or socialize so those typical topics are not available for discussion. I can tell her about my kids activities, but at some point, there just isn't much to talk about that does not involve her health or long term outcome. It must be annoying and exhausting for her. She was a doctor and she was never short of interesting things to discuss. For the past year that was my go to conversation. Bringing up some "medical"topic always sparked a good conversation. But recently that seems to have slipped from her memory too. My aunt mentioned that highly intelligent people who get dementia are able to hold it together and function much longer time than those with average intelligence. But at some point, even the people of the highest intelligence start to lose reality and when they do, they lose it so much faster. It makes sense.

I ran into a friend today and she asked me why I hadn't returned her call. I made the excuse that I was busy with the kids, work, and my ailing mother (all true), but I haven't called her back because all my friends seem to want to ask me about is my mom. It is because they are wonderful friends that are concerned for me and what I am going through, but at some point, her illness begins to define not just her, but me too. She has got to be sick of every conversation being about her health,  and I too am geting sick of every conversation being about her health. I need a break.

This friend today mentioned that she saw me out of the corner of her eye, at quick glance, and that I reminded her of my mom. First, it is time to stand up straighter! But the comment terrified me. For loved ones, the diagnosis of dementia leads to our greatest fears - of  all sorts. A loved one lost in the city, a loved one being taken advantage of, a love one wondering into traffic. These are not my greatest fears for my mom's diagnosis. No mine is more selfish.   My greatest fear is this diagnosis is genetic and that yes I am so much like my mom.

4 comments:

  1. AnonymousDecember 16, 2010 at 11:11 PM

    I get it ! Call me anytime you need to talk about something, anything , or nothing at all. TJ

    ReplyDelete
  2. Kip LelandDecember 17, 2010 at 2:30 PM

    I think a day trip is in order...where would you like to go? Maybe a museum with the girls? A silly movie? The beach? You name it and I'll be there!

    *hugs*

    ReplyDelete
  3. Kip LelandDecember 17, 2010 at 2:45 PM

    A side note...When I was diagnosed with MS, after the denial dissipated and I came to terms with the disease the one thing that really urked me (and still does) is that while I live life my own immune system is quietly destroying my brain. It's only a matter of time before there is no room for the nerves to reroute around the scared areas - that thought alone is frightening to me. You may have noticed some deterioration in my functionality since you've met me. However, that said, I have decided that it's not over until it's over and I have a great husband, my kids, Beau, new friends and I've rediscovered photography.

    It is not selfish to fear our own mortality - it is what we do with that fear that matters. Just like the saying goes, "a smile is a frown turned upside down" motivation, purpose and drive is fear turned upside down (at least to me). I have my bucket list and I am darn well sticking to it!

    I'm here, just call if you want to. We can do something totally interesting and meaningless for a day (please no mall though...they give me hives!)

    ReplyDelete
  4. AnonymousDecember 17, 2010 at 3:04 PM

    I like the image of the shadow of the branches of the (family?) tree.
    You are one heck of a photographer/blogger, Wendy!

    ReplyDelete

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