I fear Alzheimer’s more than ANYTHING.
It seems to me, that losing your mind is the very worst thing that can happen. Not only is it ghastly to anticipate in yourself, but terrible to know that your family will have to deal with you as you sink further and further into forgetting.
This Furlong’s sister looks after an old dementia lady every Wednesday to give respite for her poor exhausted husband. Three weeks ago the old lady stuffed her mouth with the little tokens from a board game on my sisters mantlepiece. Two weeks ago, she gnawed the button off her knitted jumper and tried to swallow it. Last week, my sister had to attempt to remove a pompom from her clenched jaws. Other than eating stuff, she simply sits, silent, uncomprehending.
In town the other day my sister said “Look! There’s my old lady!”. I expected to see a wizened, doddery little old lady staggering along.
I saw a beautifully groomed (hair done, nails done, smartly clothed) woman, STRIDING youthfully, down the street. I was surprised!
She’s eight five my sister tells me. And looking good. A shell without an inhabitant.
God help us.
I took this test –
I’m ok. How about you?