Perspective

By Bud Focht

Hi, my name is Bud and I have come to realize that a year can make a big difference in one’s perspective. In my perspective.

One year ago this week I took my wife Terry to a neurologist because I was very concerned with her mental health. My concern proved to be justified, unfortunately, when she was eventually diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease.

This past week I took her back to the same neurologist.

On both occasions, the good doctor asked her the same 30 questions.

On both occasions she answered the same questions correctly, and she answered the same questions incorrectly. She was able to perform the same tasks she could perform last year, and she was unable to perform the same tasks she had trouble with last year.

The clock she tried to draw looked like a Picasso painting.

On the first visit, Terry and I left the doctor’s office overwhelmed.  Terry was in tears. I was holding it together, for her sake, until I was alone later that evening.  Then, alone in my back yard, I wept like I had never wept in my life. More so than when my mother passed away when I was 43 years old. More so than when my father passed away, 10 years later.

The reason Terry and I wept that day one year ago was because she was unable to answer some of the doctor’s questions, unable to perform some of the tasks he had asked her to perform. Tasks and questions that an average 12 year old could perform and answer with ease.

But this year was different.  After what we’ve learned in the last year about Alzheimer’s Disease, I have a different mindset. I have a different viewpoint. A different frame of reference.

This year, this week, I was happy with Terry’s answers. Really happy.  Because I have a different perspective.

Terry once again felt bad with the results of the doctor’s appointment. She felt disappointed, maybe even ashamed, with the results, because she was unable to answer the questions she knows she should have been able to answer.

I was happy. Happy because she was able to perform the same way she performed one year ago.

According to the doctor’s tests, she is NOT GETTNG WORSE!!

At least not MUCH worse. At least not yet. 

Alzheimer’s Disease is a cruel disease that ONLY gets worse. There is no cure. There is no getting better. There is only getting worse.

But Terry did not get worse in the last year, at least in the neurologist’s quiz. And that is great news to me.

I am not kidding myself. I know Terry is not the same as she was a year ago. She can no longer do many tasks she could do a year ago. But the meds she has been taking since the spring seem to be working! Her diet of fish oils and coconut oil seems to be helping. Her decline appears to have slowed down.

That is great news. My prayers have been answered.  In my prayers I never asked for a cure. That would be like asking for peace in the Middle East. That part of the world has been screwed up since day one and always will be. Peace in the Middle East? Not gonna happen.

No, I asked for a cease fire. A treaty. A temporary peace. Could the plaques and the tangles forming in Terry’s brain please take a flippin day off once in a while?

The jury is still out, until we get the results of the EEG and the MRI. But for now, I am happy. The happiest I’ve been in a long time. In at least a year.

We have to continue to work her brain like any other muscle in her body. Crossword puzzles or Sudoku I am afraid are no longer doable for her. But she still likes to put together jigsaw puzzles. Terry still beats me in Wheel of Fortune. And I’ve found out that by using the pause button on the remote control, she is able to answer Jeopardy questions before the contestants do. She might not be as fast as she once was (I often tell Terry with a smile that she does things ‘half fast’), but the information is still up there and she can sometimes still find it.

What a difference a year makes, when it comes to how you look at things.  I wonder how I will be looking at things in another year.

Until next time, try to keep things in perspective.

Bud