Still Somebody

One chilly morning, seven years ago this month, Bob could not find the drawer in which his underwear had been kept for years. Uh-oh, I thought, this is definitely not good. Then began a series of doctor visits and tests that would culminate in his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s Disease on July 5, 2001.

I’ve read, and had it confirmed by Bob’s neurologist, that the disease typically starts several years before the actual diagnosis. And, sure enough, there were clues along the way, but subtle enough that I didn’t pick up on them, having never before been around anyone with AD.

In February 1995, when Bob and I were first together, one day he told me he could no longer do numbers in his head like he used to be able to do. If I had been wise to Alzheimer’s, I might have picked up on that as an early sign that something wasn’t right, but he was still functioning normally in every other respect, so I didn’t catch that clue.

Of course, getting diagnosed with AD early in the illness does not mean a person will be cured of it. But starting the meds early will slow the progression of the disease, in effect buying time in case more effective meds come down the pike.

At present, although there is no cure, and although there is no firm agreement yet on what causes the disease, there is hope. Research and clinical trials are on-going, and sooner or later, treatments and/or medications will be found to halt the illness, reverse it, or even better, prevent it altogether.

That hope is a tiny light in a long, dark tunnel. But it’s something to hang onto anyway.