Apple,
Penny, Table
By
Bud Focht
Hi,
my name is Bud and if I was a still life painter, I would draw a nice, sturdy
wooden table, with a bright red apple on it next to a shiny cooper penny.
My
wife Terry had her annual visit with the neurologist this week. He is the doctor who first told us in the
fall of 2013 that something was wrong.
We went back to him last October, a year after Terry was diagnosed with
Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease, and he ran the exact same tests again, which
included an EEG (like an EKG except it is for the brain, not for the heart) and
an MRI of the brain, as well as different tasks he gave her to do in the
office.
Terry
did just as well, or just as bad, on almost all of the tests the first and
second times, and the MRI and EEG showed no difference from the first and
second visit.
This
time he again asked Terry to remember three things, an apple, a penny, and a
table. Funny how he never changes it up.
It is always apple, penny, table. When I
was talking to my kids last week, before the visit, I told them and Terry he is
going to ask you to remember an apple, a penny and a table. Then he is going to
ask you a bunch of questions, and then he’ll ask you what the three things
were.
I
didn’t tell Terry the questions he was going to ask. This is not the test that
I really want her to study for. I want a true reading coming from the doctor’s
exams. The only reason I told her and the kids the part about the apple, penny
table was because I knew Terry would not remember it. She hasn’t yet.
The
neurologist asked Terry to spell the word WORLD, which she could do. But he
asked her to spell it backwards and she had no clue. She gave it a couple of
tries, usually starting with W, but could not do it. For the third year in a
row.
But
it was how she handled the inability to spell the word backwards is what the doctor
took notice of. She admitted, “Oh, this
is not my strong suit.” And “This is a tough one” but half laughing while
saying it.
Finally
when she gave up she said “I’m a mess,” and started laughing again. He was
happy to see and hear that she still has a sense of humor, that she is a happy
person. And healthy.
The
doctor asked her to show him her left, little finger and she did that, and to put
her right thumb in her left ear, and she could follow those instructions. But then he asked her what the three things
she was supposed to remember and again, for the third year in a row Terry had
no shot.
Could
not remember apple, penny, or table.
I
had to tell the doctor all of the things Terry can no longer do since our last visit
in October. Last visit I had just taken the car keys away from Terry.
Since
last October Terry can no longer use the oven, stove or microwave. She can’t
text on her phone. She can turn the TV on and off but can’t change the
channels. Same with the radio. She can turn it on and off but can’t change the
station.
One
day I was listening to the football game on the radio and forgot to put Terry’s
country station back on. The next day I came home from work and Terry told me, “for
some reason they were talking a lot about the Eagles today.”
She
can turn the treadmill on and off but doesn’t know how to change the speeds. So
she can do it when she is home alone, she just can’t go too fast.
Lately
she’s been putting the dishes away where they don’t belong, but she gets a kick
out of it. We call it my daily Easter Egg hunt and Terry laughs every time I
pretend to give her a hard time when I am looking for things.
Because
Terry is still healthy and still has a sense of humor, and because she knows
what is going on, she just can’t remember things, the neurologist didn’t order
the EEG or the MRI this time. He doesn’t think the brain has begun to shrink
yet. The decline has continued but it
has been gradual, which means the majority of her brain is still okay, it is
just the hippocampus not working. She just can’t remember things.
Once
the brain begins to shrink, there will be more drastic changes. But for now,
she is healthy.
So
for the first time, Terry and I left the neurologist’s office in a good mood.
After
the doctor’s appointment we took a nice, two hour walk on the tow path next to
the Delaware River and Delaware Canal. We were walking along and all of a
sudden Terry turns to me and her eyes are real big and she says “APPLE, PENNY,
TABLE. APPLE, PENNY, TABLE.”
We
both almost fell in the canal laughing. I told her I was going to quickly call
the doctor back and see if he’ll change her grade.
The
rest of the walk she was like ET when he first started to talk “ET Phone Home,
ET Phone Home.” Terry kept on saying the
rest of the walk “APPLE, PENNY, TABLE. APPLE, PENNY, TABLE”
Unless
some of those “drastic” changes occur, we again will not see the neurologist until
next October. She will continue to be on her two medicines, Aricept and Namenda,
for another year. Between now and then I am sure I will have compiled a new
list of things that Terry can no longer do. I just pray that laughing isn’t on
that list.
Along
with Aricept and Namenda, laughter truly is the best medicine. I know it has
been for me. It is the only thing that
has gotten me through this, being able to see Terry laugh.
Until
next time, maybe I will draw that table with the penny and apple on it. I’m
sure that would make Terry laugh.
Bud
