An Alzheimer's miracle drug?

What a blessing this drug would have been in the case of my mother:

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/news/article-23431610-details/Drug%20'can%20reverse%20Alzheimer's%20symptoms%20in%20minutes'/article.do

Just about two decades ago, when my mother started down the pathway to Alzheimer's, it wasn't much discussed. It was happening to my friends' grandparents, but not many of my friends had mothers in their sixties. Early fifties, maybe.

At any rate, my mother started down the pathway of dementia in her early sixties. She had me at age 40 and there was some part of me that felt a little cheated. I didn't get to pick out my wedding dress with my mother. I didn't get to share the ups and downs of pregnancies with her or get that valuable advice on mothering that one can only get from a mother.

I did get to realize a few things earlier than others my age who didn't lose their parents in their 20s or 30s. When my mother first forgot my birthday, I discovered that a birthday isn't just about you....but your mother marks it as a terribly special day in her consciousness as well....losing that bond....that annual phone call that you know you are going to get and roll your eyes about.....when that goes away somehow the birthday is never quite complete again.

Many friends of mine who are having babies in their late 30s and early 40s may not have considered the cost of late parenthood. You have to raise your children a wee bit differently -- ready to take on significant responsibilities and able to handle things at a far younger age. And you might be around for a very short time so it is incredibly important that you be there. Nannies, night nurses, etc., are wonderful, but the fact is, an older mom should know that the clock is ticking. Not trying to be morbid here, but friends, no one knows the cost of having older parents better than I do. I wouldn't trade it for the world, and the benefits outweigh the costs by a long shot, but there are costs that one cannot deny.

And then there are the fiscal costs. At the time my mother was ill, my father took care of her until his health finally gave out. Health insurance wouldn't cover her costs at the nursing home and in the early 1990s, the nursing home we found for her cost $10K a month and that didn't include a host of extras.....like diapers. You haven't lived until you have changed your own mother's diapers. Frankly, it was a privilege and I wish I had the opportunity to do so again if it meant I could have her back for just a little while longer.

When someone you love is in the throes of dementia, you keep hoping to see some sign of clarity, a flicker of recognition or just some measure of hope that your loved one has somehow done the impossible with the irreversible.

It is different than any other kind of death. When my father died, he was clear as a bell until the day he died. The lymphoma had devoured his frame down to 140 pounds from a strapping 200, but he was actually doing laundry and running errands until he finally laid down for his final sleep that night. They are there, eyes still somehow twinkling with the history of your relationship with them, no matter how ill they are. Then when death comes upon them, the soul is just gone in an instant.

But when you are dealing with dementia, the person that your loved one once slips away very slowly, chipping off memories and personality, scarcely allowing you to acclimate to the "new" person they have become before they slide completely into a hollow shell with vacant eyes.

You want to will it to stop. You want them to fight against it. But there is no "raging against the dying of the light" because they truly do not know or understand what is happening. So you are left, hoping for a miracle but trying to come to grips with the fact that there is simply nothing you can do but make them absolutely comfortable as possible.

That, friends, is a lot for a 20-something to take in. And I wonder, given the state of young folks today, if they are prepared to handle the reality that could come crashing into their world? Currently, it would seem that they are overdosing on self-esteem but don't seem to have a lot of self-reliance and more importantly, they seem completely engrossed in the temporal rather than the permanent. Instant gratification and acquisition of the material seems to make America hum on all engines, but when the chips are down, what spiritual strength do they have to draw upon?

Children are not Pomeranians and having them later in life does not make them accessories or fashion statements. They require a concentrated dose of parenting to withstand what life will throw at them. And for heaven's sake, prepare them for responsibility.

So......this miracle drug sounds great. God bless the scientists who have discovered it and I pray that it will be the miracle that people have been praying for. But at the risk of sounding skeptical, at the time my mother was "diagnosed" (true diagnosis doesn't come until the demise), I believe the treatment of the day was some other miracle drug combined with some super doses of vitamins. Didn't work.

So rather than counting on a miracle, I'm going to do my job and raise my children to be outstanding human beings, godly to the core and tough as a boot (as my grandfather would say! :) ) Standing at the foot of your mother's grave can be very clarifying. It brings life's priorities into crystal clear focus. And like my mother before me, my gravestone will say "wife and mother." No other job will be more important than that. Miracles are the cherry on top.