The other day, I was so annoyed with myself I wanted to scream.  I struggled for 18hours straight to recall the name of a dish I had.  Over the weekend, Dave and I went to this charming Italian restaurant and had a fantastic and memorable dinner.   I could recall the entire evening with such clarity.  Walking up to this funky restaurant, being surprised at the dumpy location and seeing the metal bars outside the restaurant entrance wondering about our safety.  Walking in to this empty place right at six o’clock when the place opened, thinking will anybody else dine here tonight?  Within 15 minutes, our perceptions completely changing, congratulating each other for finding a dining gem in the rough.  The dinner, the atmosphere, the wine, the crowd, the service…oh my goodness, everything was perfect.  Except that now, I could not recall the name of the dish I sooo enjoyed.  I kept urging my brain to recall the name.  I could recollect the smell, the feeling that evoked in me with every bite, the look of the huge bowl full of hot steaming red tomato broth that nestled the juicy mussels, clams and white fish and a perfectly broiled giant prawn on top.   But oh what was the name of that dish?  I was so frustrated.  I even knew the dish started with a letter C.  But the only name that kept swimming around my head as if to taunt me was bouillabaisse.  I silently yelled to myself, “no idiot, it’s not BOUILLABAISSE.  That’s French.  I had Italian.  The name is fish stew in Italian!  It starts with a C!” 

It went on for 18 hours.  I refused to look it up.  Instead, I thought and thought and thought.  I went to bed thinking about it.  I woke up in the morning and thought about it. 

Then magically around 10am in the morning, it hit me.  It’s CIOPPINO!  Of course!  How could I forget? 

Forgetting a simple, random and almost useless fact happens to me from time to time.  I wasn’t always like this.  In fact, I used to be so proud of my memory.  I could recall a name of a person I met at a mixer with no problem.  I could immediately call up a name of a strange dish or a name of a restaurant we just passed by as if I had known it all my life. 

 Now days, with more exposure and knowledge I have about Alzheimer’s disease, when I forget to recall something my thoughts race to wonder if it’s a symptom of Alzheimer’s disease for me.  With recent studies pointing to genetic disposition of getting this disease, I think about the fact that my maternal grandmother had Alzheimer’s.  I think about my mom currently suffering from it.  I think about me.  I think about my sister.  I think about my daughter.  I think about my future granddaughter.  My thoughts began to cry out, “I am only 46.  I’m too young to be forgetting simple things.“  Then I recall the Purple Sunshine community posts.  “My mom is 50 and she has had Alzheimer’s for the last 4 years….  My husband was diagnosed with AD at age 50…”.

 For those of us who are exposed to Alzheimer’s patients, we are so painfully aware of the devastating nature of this disease.  It’s too easy to get caught up in the fear of possibly getting afflicted with the disease ourselves.  I posed this question to our Purple Sunshine community and about three quarter of respondents said they live in fear that they will be afflicted with Alzheimer’s.  Surprisingly, about a quarter of them said while it’s a thought they have, they don’t live in fear.   I applaud the people who are living strong despite the fear. 

If anyone is worried, the best thing you can do for yourself is get educated, find a support group, and make lifestyle changes…NOW.  Make changes so you eat better, get exercise, do things to stimulate your brain, and think positively.  In my case, I have pretty much completely removed all white flour and rice, white sugar, sodas, junk foods such as store bought chips, cookies and snacks from my cupboard.  I have also made a commitment to exercise at least 20 minutes a day.  I’m also learning to do brand new things.  I’ve started a blog site.  I have learned stock trading.  I am reading financial news.   All of these things are brand new for me from a year ago.   I know I will continue to have moments where I forget names of dishes, names of people, name of places I had visited.  I also know I will force my brain to recollect the answer, and I will not rest until it does.  I also know I will not be on TV to play Jeopardy… but that’s OK.  I’m living not in fear, but despite it.  I choose to live strong and take each day for what it is.  The fear that I too may be afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease the way my grandmother was, and the way my mother is will persist.  But it will only be a fleeting thought, living dormant in the back of my mind.  Live strong.  Live courageously.  Live well despite the fear.         

One of the best things I love about young children is their emotional honesty and how their short term memory works.  When my son was little he would sometimes come crying into my arms and would tell me his sister was mean to him, and that she hurt his feelings.  I would wipe his tears, hug him, kiss his chest and sometimes offer to put a bandaid over his heart.  In no time, he would run off to play with his sister, forgetting that she was "mean" to him. 

These days, I see my mom acting much like a young child.  She is brutally honest about certain things, and she quickly forgets.  The other day, I was driving mom and dad back to their home from a long day of doctor visits.  It was getting to be dinner time and knowing that cooking was a struggle for them both I offered to buy them take-out dinner.  Dad said "No", being the very proud man that he is, for at 78 years old he still believes he should be the one taking care of everybody and not the other way around.  But mom who ordinarily would just comply with dad spoke up and said, "There is nothing to eat at home and I'm getting hungry."  Wow, before her Alzheimer's disease, she would never say such a thing!  Well, a little honesty goes a long way.  I picked up some dinner for them, and heard mom exclaim "Oh, I love these Chipotle bowls!."  I glanced over at dad through the rear view mirror and he just shrugged his shoulders.  Lo and behold less then 10 minutes later, I stopped the car to drop them off in their driveway and handed mom the bag containing their dinner.  She asks me what it is.  I tell her it's their dinner.  Mom looks to dad and says to me "Oh no, I can't accept that.  I have to cook for your dad.  You take it."  I tell her it's ok, that she's had a long day and she should get a day off from cooking.  She says, "Oh, yes.  It's getting difficult to cook these days.  I no longer enjoy cooking anymore."

I pull out of their driveway and get on the road to come home.  All the while thinking, "I'm glad Dad's there, so she doesn't forget to eat".

This story comes from my dad, who is taking care of my mom, an early to moderate Alzheimer's patient.
One of the typical symptoms for Alzheimer's patients is that they easily get agitated and nervous.  My mom checks her wallet every morning to see if she has any money.  If she finds that there is no money in her wallet, she gets anxious, upset and nervous.  Knowing this, my father checks her wallet before going to bed at night and always makes sure there's a $20 bill in her wallet.  Without fail, mom gets up in the morning, checks her wallet, discovers a $20bill and tells my dad, "I feel rich" and smiles.  This brings a smile to my dad, a 78 year old, ex-military officer.  :)