It was faded red, and slow: on Volkswagen time. Others rushed impatiently. It said, “Speed limit will do. No hurry.” A no-nonsense vehicle. The engine sounded like rattling chains, and could al-ways be fixed in the back yard. We took it through new brakes, a rebuilt transmission, and a fully overhauled engine. It took us to the Catskills, around Vermont, and across country, pulling a U-Haul trailer through a blinding storm. It was a van, not a camper, with makeshift bed of plywood and hinges. When trailer and storm slowed us down to a crawl, we stopped and unfolded the bed. We waited it out—had plenty of time, and our dog to keep us warm. By morning the rain was gone, and the van had its second wind. We left the rest stop and merged with ease, …show more content…
On the surface, I had good reasons for staying on the east coast another couple of weeks after I left my job at the United Nations. I had just married, and my husband and I were packing up to move to California. We gave up our flat and stayed with friends while he straightened out some child support issues. We had planned, after leaving New York, to swing up to Vermont for a couple of days to visit friends before making the drive across country. Then there was this: My husband, an African American, had barely ventured outside of New York except for the year he spent in Vietnam. I had my doubts that he would follow me, in the Volkswagen van, pulling a U-Haul trailer, if I had flown back to California without him. He had some trepidation, probably not baseless, about leaving the illusive security of Jamaica, Queens and driving across country. I believe I had asked my parents if they wanted me to fly home, and easily accepted their reassurance before the surgery that they were pretty optimistic about it but would let me know if my return should be expedited. After the surgery, my father seemed to be recovering well, was back at home, and was looking forward to seeing me and meeting John. Their confidence, which in retrospect may have simply been a reluctance to burden me with worry, fed my innate tendency to minimize health problems. Other
“Who are you?” This is a question I have heard ever since I was sixteen years old, and not from strangers on the streets, from my very own mother. I was a teenager when my mother originally developed Alzheimer’s and then later, dementia. I can still recall the first time she ever asked me that question. It was springtime, I know that because I had just come home from softball practice. I had yet to take even five steps into the house when a shriek rang out.
My grandfather's dementia had gotten worse with age. He had developed a habit of walking out of the house randomly. They lived alone in their apartment in Pakistan. One day he walked out the same way and did not return for a long time. We were later informed that he had tripped on his way and broke his hip. After surgery my grandmother called me, I was living abroad at that time, and said, "I don't think he will recover, he is in a lot of pain" I assured her otherwise. She said, "I can't live without him. I don’t want him to die." The helplessness and grief in her voice was agonizing. She would often call and cry, it became tough overtime as I was abroad and not fully aware of his progress. I am her oldest grandchild, and she treats me like
It’s the ultimate package: a sporty vehicle that can’t wait for weekend getaways that still translates to your everyday lifestyle.
Every morning I wake up and it is the same routine. I start with brushing my teeth, shower, get ready, make breakfast, and head to work. When and if I miss doing something because I ran out of time or I was in a hurry and just forgot I find myself frustrated. Can you imagine waking up and not remembering your routine at all? Image waking up and not remembering a loved one, how do you feel? At this moment you are feeling like someone with Alzheimer’s disease.
I have waited eight years to be with my father again. I was ten years old when he had to leave. He figured his salary was not sufficient to support our needs. Like any other father, he wanted to be able to provide for his family and give us a decent life. Living in the Philippines, where poverty is a common predicament, moving to a more developed country became the norm for many fathers. He had no other choice but to take the risk and leave us behind as he left in search for work in Hawaii. Growing up, I would ask my father why he had to leave us behind. Why couldn’t he just stay and be with us? I never really got the answer until I was able to experience the opportunities offered in the United States. After eight long years, my father was finally able to take my brother and I here to the United States. However, in this joyful moment, I know we are about to face another obstacle. We had to be away from my mother. I don’t know how long I would be away from her. But, life has to go on. Great opportunities are more accessible here, in the United States and I know I have to make the most out of it.
I was 16 when I learned what it meant to be dead. I had known of it before, but I didn’t really know death -- I was too young to really understand. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to ward off the waves from washing away my grandparents when they were in Mexico, and I was here. We were separated by oceans of land so our contact was limited. And the oceans only got deeper as I realized that Alzheimer's meant something beyond just memory loss. It meant I watched my Abuelito’s glassy eyes lead to an empty attic, and knew I was waiting for a tsunami to take it over like it had the rest of him.
In 2009, my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Prior to this determination, my family and I had simply attributed it to the forgetfulness of old age. However, as my grandfather began to ask the same questions within a matter of minutes, we knew there was a deeper issue. After my mother had to stay on the phone to help him navigate previously familiar roads, she took him to the doctor. Years went by and his cognizance and memory began to deteriorate even further. Upon the death of my maternal grandmother, he moved in with my family due to his inability to live alone. My grandfather required constant supervision and monitoring at all waking hours. These circumstances exposed us even further to this disease as we realized the
Growing up I was always knew I was going to be great. I always told myself I could be whatever I put I mind to. When I graduated high school I went off to college,Wilberforce University to study communications. I wanted to be a writer for a large magazine and I always envisioned myself living in a big city, New York City to be exact! I had a passion for writing like nobody’s business. So off to college I went. School was great and then life took over so there had to be changes to the agenda.
Comfortably dying, steadily but surely eradicating the remainder of my humanity. Cells dying, dilating then slowly leaking away into the bloodstream. I am dying, I can comprehend the events that are occurring even though I am young. The heart rate monitor has a relaxing drone; which suppresses my depression and continuous tears. How do you accept dying at the age of nine? Oh right, you are not supposed to.
Alzheimer’s affects more than five million Americans and is the sixth-leading cause of death in the United States. One in three seniors dies with Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia, and it causes more deaths than breast cancer and prostate cancer combined (Alzheimer’s Association®, 2016). The number of people with Alzheimer’s grows daily and is expected to continue to increase tremendously over the years to come. So what is Alzheimer’s and what are the effects it has on one’s life?
Having Alzheimer’s would cause your parents to forget everything over time, including you, their only child. Because you were so young, Alden and I decided to tell you that they had just been killed. We figured it would be better for you to believe that they were dead than to tell you that they do not even remember who you are. But, throughout these past few months, we have noticed that you haven’t forgotten about them, and no matter how hard we have tried to prevent you, you have always tried to find a way to see your parents again.”
My family has a dad and a mom, my moms name is Merrilee, and my dads name is Keith. I have two brothers, Alex and Ayden, we live in Lime Spring Iowa, but we used to live in Casper, Wyoming. My friends are Trey Burnikel from school and football, Carter Henry from school and football, and Gabe Grabau from school. We might be getting a new ranger and fourwheeler, but it might be a couple months.
Researchers are on the look out of why some individuals who have the brain changes associated with the earlier points of the continuum do not go on to develop the over symptoms of the later points of the continuum. The accumulation of the protein beta-amyloid outside neurons in the brain and the accumulation of the protein tau inside neurons are the main contributors in the development of the Alzheimer's disease. A healthy adult brain will contain 100 billion neurons, each with long, branching extensions. These extensions will help individual neurons to form specialized connections with other neurons. These specialized connections are called synapses, and information flows in tiny chemical pulses released by one neuron and detected by
I hit a boy with a bat in the second grade after he said “short girls can’t play baseball.” I saw red, and as my mom says, “When Audrey is seeing red, let her be.” Overcome with emotion and not thinking about consequences, I was too young to find a constructive way to deal with things that upset me. It would not be until my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s five years ago that I found a balance.
When I walked into the bowling alley to conduct interview and explain to Walt my purpose of this assignment, I had no doubt in my mind things would be smooth. I had done several interview before and never had doubts, barriers or skepticism before, during or after. I assumed that getting personal with someone this age would be simple thinking they would be happy to tell what that have done for over seven decades. Upon meeting Walt, I shook his hand and knew he would be somewhat of a challenge per his body language a greeting comment. His greeting to me was, “Evening, life interview huh, I’ll see what all I can tell you. (Gladden. personal communication. November 21, 2017.).” My initial assumption was wrong and I went in thinking this man was going divulge me his personal experience no hesitation because of my professionalism, slight personal connections of interest and military connection.