On Amtrak
It’s been three weeks since I’ve written a post. I’ve enjoyed not only a wonderful Christmas
with my daughter and her family in California, but also the three-week respite
from this blog. Today Marja and I are on
Amtrak traveling to Washington DC: three
days of relative solitude across the country.
For the first time, I’ve been experiencing the need to
write for this blog as something of a burden; the California respite was a real
relief. In the beginning fifteen months
ago, the blog didn’t feel demanding or even like work. There was always something new to write about;
my experiences just pushed themselves out, yearning to be expressed. I even worried that I was posting too
often. The blog was to be a journal of a
mind disappearing; not knowing how much time I had before I could no longer keep
it up, I felt some urgency.
As I’ve written before,
finding new material has begun to feel difficult. It’s not surprising, I suppose:
- To date, I’ve written 161 posts; that’s a lot of subject matter under the bridge.
- The course of my disease has been much slower than I anticipated, which means that the experience of my impairment has not changed radically these past fifteen months. I don’t confront new levels in daily life very often; there’s little new to tell.
- Give my more favorable prognosis for a longer period of comptency, my sense of urgency is greatly diminished.
- All the confusion around the level of my impairment, the validity of my symptoms and my diagnosis has shaken the base on which I stand, making it much more difficult to understand the significance of my experiences.
There is, however, a set of more confusing reasons. This blog is taken from my daily journal. As I get used to my symptoms, however, I
don’t journal about them as much as I do about other things: playing with my
grandchildren, a low-grade depression, or a disagreement with Marja. Those are important events to me but probably
not as fascinating to others; nor are they always relevant to my experience of
cognitive impairment. A year ago, almost
everything I thought about was related to my impairment and therefore fit into
the blog. Now I have to be much more
discriminating. Often there’s nothing
for days.
Perhaps more important, ever since my neuropsych
exam was reported as normal, I’ve felt defensive writing about my
symptoms. As I’ve written before
(November 15, The Truth of This Blog), when the symptoms I experience could be construed as normal aging or something
that could happen to anyone, blogging about them can feel almost like a pathetic,
last-ditch attempt to convince myself and my readers of the reality of these
symptoms.
The fact of the matter is that I still ruminate on my
impairment several times a day. I’m
still surprised by every new symptom even if it seems no different from others. In the past two weeks, for instance, it took me
forever to understand the fairly simple rules of a new game my grandchildren
taught me; I’ve been unable to find lost my gloves many times; I never found a bungee cord I needed for our suitcase
and can’t remember even handling it; and so on.
Is it, however, helpful to write about such in a public blog when I’ve
written about similar symptoms previously?
What I keep forgetting is that the intention of this
blog has always been to chronicle my journey within this disease. Whether it’s interesting or helpful to
others, whether it belongs here in the blogosphere isn’t my judgment to
make. If I don’t have anything at all to
write about, then I should wait until I do, rather than feeling pressure to get
something posted. If I notice symptoms, “old”
symptoms, write whatever is meaningful to
me about them and don’t worry about whether I’m whipping a dead horse. If I’m feeling conflicted about the loss of my
Alzheimer’s diagnosis, write about that.
If I’m frustrated by an email to me from a reader who wonders why, in
the face of all the normal tests, I work so hard to prove something is wrong
with me, then I can write about that. This
post today is perhaps an example: an interior monologue about finding it
difficult to keep the blog up. I’m
thinking about it a lot, so I’m writing about it.
I will do my best to let go of the concerns that fewer
people will read the blog, that I’m repeating myself, that I’m posting too
infrequently, or that the blog is not valuable to others. The disease persists, whatever it is. And that’s what this blog is about. This is a journal of my experience as a
person with cognitive impairment. I
can’t be the judge of whether it’s helpful to anyone else; and trying to be
that judge only makes me anxious.
My wish is that you write when you like, take breaks when needed to refresh or recharge yourself, and that you know you're blog has been helpful to others. One of my sibs told me about the blog as our Mom has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I've been following for a few months, reading via Google Reader and now Feedly, but I don't know if I've ever commented before today. I'm glad you had a nice Christmas break!
ReplyDeleteYou're not the only blogger who has started out with a head full of thoughts that were eager to manifest in print and then ran out of steam. I've subscribed to dozens of blogs that took that path. After a year or so, some bloggers disappear completely and some post only once every couple of months.
ReplyDeleteSo don't feel pressure to post. Write when you want to write and enjoy the rest of your life when you don't. We appreciate your perspective.
Wonderful insight... I totally agree.
DeleteI have also enjoyed your blog. My mother has Alzheimers and it helps understand, at least a little bit, about what she might have silently gone through before Alzheimer's completely took over.
ReplyDeleteIt took a long time before we put the name Alzheimer's to Mom's disease since she is the first one in the family that is suffering through it
Appreciate your blog and hope you continue when you can and when it is comfortable for you to do so.
You have helped me a lot with your bog - thank you very much and good luck to you and your family.
I always appreciate your blog. As a support group facilitator, I find your personal insights amid the struggle so helpful in understanding what the care reciever and caregiver face. So there are seasons that we go through and the the thoughts you share might be very powerful for someone else. so be encourage as you and your family journey and please share when you can.
ReplyDeleteAn occasional reader, today i have been skimming quite a few of your entries. To me, dementia is like cancer - it is more than a symptom or cluster of symptoms, but not a clearly defined disease entity - we have too many questions about it for that. It seems that as a trained physician with a clear spiritual sense, you are able to combine all of your abilities/experiences into this exploration of what is happening to you. Very few people with serious illness are able to write so clearly from this perspective, which is why I keep reading. What you write is totally up to you...each reader will have a different experience when your words intersect with their unique self...medicine is an art and a science, with more questions than answers! thanks for sharing your gifts.
ReplyDeleteAs a professional musician, we play the same pieces again and again, because we have varying audiences each time. We use the same intense energy whether there are ten or a thousand in the audience. If we connect with one person in the audience there is success.
DeleteDavid, many people read your blog and never correspond with you.
It will always be important....it is the first thing I check each morning,
With love from Louisiana,
Gerrygirl
Like cancer dementia is not just one diagnosis; it's a symptom of many different kinds of brain injury: Alzheimer's dementia, multi-infarct dementia, Lewy-Body dementia and quite a few others. There are lots of similarities among them but symptoms tend to be different and the causes are distinct. Some have treatment and others don't. Unfortunately at this point in our history, everything tends to get lumped together which makes it harder for people to understand.
DeleteI'm interested ~ please keep writing when it feels comfortable to do so!
ReplyDeleteWishing you all the best ~
Dear David,
ReplyDeleteMay you write when you want to, and want to when you write.
Gassho, Edward
Amen!
DeleteI hope you will continue to write when and need to write, I am following and enjoying (if that's ok to say).. and learning.... Thank you so much...
ReplyDeleteHi David,
ReplyDeleteI am an occasional reader of your blog. Your posts are insightful and interesting. From a reader standpoint, I am 100% okay with you posting what you want, when you want, and how you want. While not a blogger, I can see the posts take time, energy, and creativity.As a reader, I'm just grateful to receive whatever you choose to provide. Happy 2014 to you and yours.
- Sally
I agree with all the commenters. I write a blog about living with my 97-year-old mother (daughteronduty.wordpress.com) and have quoted you from time to time (with a link). I have found many of your posts helpful in understanding my mother's moderate dementia (I wish she had your attitude about what is lost--and you give me hope for myself when I reach that new land). I also wrote another blog for three years that I discontinued. It served a purpose and then I was finished. We write for ourselves; we are not responsible for what readers get out of it. Happiness in the new year.
ReplyDeleteJust came home from visiting my 95 year old friend. Ten days ago, eyes dull and she couldn't tell me name for her problem with her arm. Today eyes clear, reporting carpel tunnel problem bothering her. Even her 92 year old sister saying how much brighter she is. She's almost totally normal.
DeleteTake a look at Maisback.com.
Brad Pitman
I'm happy? relieved? something to read this entry. W neither parents nor children, I am my own caregiver. Not a complaint, I've had an exciting life/career in 5 continents, but a reality at age 73, happily home alone. I'm showing/dealing with more and more signs/symptoms of who knows what but very bad problems w short term memory and more. I appreciated your writing but felt almost overwhelmed, tried hard not to be resentful of your amazing access to support, church, friends, family, and medical resources for testing and testing w/o the fear that if you didn't pass you might be removed from home involuntarily. I felt that you had no idea how incredible those resources were. In this post, I'm reading, accurately or not, a humility I hadn't felt before. My best to both of us. Joan
ReplyDeleteI'm Joan McKniff, not anonymous; just don't have any passwords or the links to those listed to sign in other than anonymous.
DeleteEighteen years ago my mother was diagnosed at Mass General Hospital in Boston. At that time it was very apparent the medical industry had no idea what caused Alzheimer's (AD). Today they admit "the cause or causes of Alzheimer's remain unknown.
DeleteAll the blogging I've read can be summed up as; isn't it sad and we're living with it.
In 1996 we did something about the behavior rather than sit around writing stories of boo hoo. AD is very simple. Anyone coping with AD notices the better moments, hours or days that happen naturally without or with medical interference. Simply replicating those positive happenings that don't cost a dime, is the answer to the problem. They overcome everything that
has been causing them, so who cares about causes when the solution is in those positive naturally occurring events.
Stop spinning you wheels and do something about the problem. Take a look at my site MaisBack.com
Brad Pitman
Joan:
DeleteThank you for bringing up this issue of access to support. I am extremely aware of and grateful for the degree of support I have had from the very beginning from my wife Marja, my children, friends, and an unusual faith community. More recently the people who read this blog have also provided a great deal of support, which is obvious if you read the comments to this post. I am quite sure that the peace I have felt in responding to of this illness would not be possible without this degree of support. I’ve been made acutely aware over the last year that most people do not have this level of support and I wonder how they face this future.
I’ve only been really terrified once during this illness: It was a night when Marja unexpectedly didn’t get home until very late and I didn’t know what had happened to her. As I fell into the possibility that I might have to do this by myself, I felt almost physically ill. Almost everything that has made this blog possible has been given to me as gift.
Your blog can be whatever you want it to be and you may want to know that I enjoy reading your blog and I'm sure others do too. There are many lessons we can learn from your writings, not to mention exploring different ways to move through our own caregiving, personal or business endeavors. Thank you for your sharing your thoughts and keep doing it!
ReplyDeleteI've been following your blog for about 8 months and this is the first time I've written. I value your blog a great deal. My interest stems from my concern/conviction that I am traveling the road to Alzheimer's.
ReplyDeleteYour blog is such a comfort because it provides a model of how to bear the disease with grace and courage while being clear about the dreadfulness of it. I hope you continue to write the blog as long as it doesn't cast a shadow over your life. I will continue to look forward to reading your words as long as your chose to write them.
"A Memoir of an Uncertain Mind." That's what you've named your blog, which i have followed with much interest ever since i discovered it. You shouldn't feel pressured to write this blog -- certainly discipline comes into it, but like all things in life, there is an ebb and a flow. When you notice something, write. When you feel something, write. When you'd rather not, don't. You are so articulate when you DO write that it doesn't matter if it's weeks between posts. And a memoir really shouldn't have a big agenda -- don't worry about if you're helping people. that's a given. Each person's journey is unique to him/her, so if yours isn't classic Alzheimer's, so be it. Nothing really is, it seems, with the brain and how it works being so varied among all of us. Please do write when you can. About anything. And thanks for your sincerity and honesty in the midst of disease.
ReplyDeleteThanks, you know, you're right, it's a blog about life, keep showing it as well. To my I like reading you, knowing what you write, just what you write, not what you "want" to write. The way you feel on a day to day, with whom you interact, as you comment with the guys you shared a game that interests me, "how you say, why explicit" that is important, that is the path of the disease, "truth." So I can find knowledge of what I live and my relationship with my loved ones. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteDavid,
ReplyDeleteI find your internal dialogue to be both honest and human and I am honored that you are courageous in sharing this mystery as it unfolds. Thank you!
David- I have been following your blog for some time now and have found it to be helpful, insightful, and inspiring. I think your willingness to be open, even transparent, is what I have appreciated most. I wonder if you have come to a new stage where less and less are you defining yourself by your "illness", whatever that may be. Initially I would imagine you saw most. if not all of your responses, actions, interactions, thoughts and relationships through the lens of MCI or Alzheimer's. I think this happens a lot with a wide range of diagnoses from cancer to bipolar disorder. It takes a period of time before we see that we are so much more than our diagnosis. Even though on one plane we may truly know this, our hearts wrestle with something else. As I read your post it felt as though this new piece of who you are has become more integrated with your whole being. Just my musings- you would know if this is true for you.
ReplyDeleteKeeping up a blog, I would imagine, can be a pressure. It is one of the things that has kept me from starting one. However, you are the one who gets to decide the frequency of your posts. And maybe the good news is that each post won't be about your decline. That in itself teaches us a great deal. Your story is not only about decline, but about courage, adversity, humor, resilience, creativity, and more. Thank you for writing. Many blessings to you and your family in 2014.
Linda in IL
One of the realities of a cognitive impairment is an inability to judge. To say nothing of all writers never knowing who is getting what from our writings anyway. Just write what you feel when you feel like doing so and trust that us readers will take what we need from it.
ReplyDeleteI think you're right. One thing I've learned as a writer is that people are going to listen less to what I say and more to the story I tell. Not infrequently, they'll miss the point of what I intended to write but get something else out of the story that I may not even have seen. If our stories are as true as we can make them, whatever another person gets out of them will be worth the writing. I keep having to learn the lesson over and over again: Don't take my version of the truth so seriously; trust my reader to find what is valuable to him or her.
DeleteDavid, totally agree with your reply - we do find your words quite valuable!
DeleteEndorsing the above comments and adding my own thoughts. I work in Pastoral Care in a Hospital and visit with many elderly patients dealing with cognitive decline and often making the transition to nursing home care and the associated stress this causes their families. Recently, I visited with a man in his 50s who has recently given up work due to a diagnosis of Alzheimer's and I referred him to your blog for a discussion of living with cognitive decline when you are aware of it as he is. I think it will be of great benefit to him. Thankyou for sharing your story with the world. It reaches much more widely thatn perhaps you know. Susanne, Canberra, Australia.
ReplyDeleteSuaanne, Alzheimer's is much easier to deal with when rather than simply choosing to give up and treating as it is mystical you try something - anything. The up and down behavior of the dementia patient offers the answer to the problem each time you see those positive moments in the course of the AD behavior.
DeleteFaith is wonderful but action may even help the problem.
I have responded to a number of people writing on this blog and am a bit embarrassed by the lack of anyone talking about actually trying to solve the problem of AD. To give up depresses everyone. To again quote-paraphrase Sir Winston Churchill 'I prefer action over inaction'
Look me up on the web
Brad Pitman
I've sensed almost a feeling of embarrassment in some of your entries. It seems you are saying "sorry if I don't, in fact, have Alzheimers!"
ReplyDeleteWhether you have this malady or another, more benign ailment of the mind, you still offer us all insight into coping with a challenge. It really doesn't matter what you are diagnosed with if you can use this opportunity to teach the rest of us how to comport ourselves when faced with a similar situation.
It would be wrong for you to continue blogging if it is really stressing you out and only you can make that call, but you are helping a lot of people out here who enjoy this site. Don't put pressure on yourself over this...just do what makes you happy!
You put it very well, Cathy. I have felt sometimes embarrassed, wanting almost to apologize for not having AD. Put in those terms, of course, it seems pretty silly. I am what I am and I have what I have. It's more a journey of exploration than anything else.
DeleteHi, David. Even though I know you personally, I still hope you continue to add to your blog as you feel led. I don't talk with you much about your changing mind and reading your reflections has been very helpful in understanding my father's dementia. My Mom also really appreciates reading your blog. It was particularly helpful for me to realize that because someone is confused at one time, it doesn't meant he or she is confused all the time about everything. I noticed that with my father when he spent time with me over the holidays. Some days, I couldn't detect any impairment in his conversation. Other days, he asked what day it was and was confused about where I lived, even though he was visiting me in my condo. I'm trying not to underestimate the level of his understanding. You've helped me to understand better how he might be thinking and be more compassionate. Mary Ann
ReplyDeleteI enjoy your blog. Publish as often as you wish on whatever aspect you need to. I look forward to continuing to read it :) Happy new year, David and Marja.
ReplyDeleteDavid, I keep wishing there were a "like" button -- both on your posts and on many of the comments. Each of us has a story, and many people are interested in other people's stories. I think your story grabs us because we too may face what you are so graciously facing. I hope you will keep writing because it is good for you, but if you do, please know that we out here are sharing in your story and following along with you.
ReplyDeleteDear David,
ReplyDeleteIf this blog has become a burden, then please feel free to stop.
However, you are such a wonderful writer, David, and we so enjoy reading your blog. Perhaps you could write a blog (or a book?) that wasn't limited to cognitive impairment. I'd love to read about your grandchildren, the train trip across country, life in Washington, D.C., your faith community, life with Marja (but only if Marja agrees). You could weave into the stories insights into living with cognitive impairment... or not. I'm sure it would be a great read! But do it only if it brings you pleasure. If it bring you pleasure, it will be a pleasure to read.
fondly,
Cathy
I will repeat what I've read in the first few entries (and what I hope is continued through all of them)...keep going. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteDavid, Thank you for sharing your journey with all of us. I was diagnosed with " possible" dementia or alzhaimers 5 years ago. i do mot Dell on it too much but i realize how little vy little is hard for me to understand like you say! rules of simple games, or follow instructions! or organize myself, period. nobody knows about this, i have kept it to myself and i prefer to pretend i am distracted or not that smart. am i going to go for a third opinión to see if i have meither of this diseases? No. Not for the moment being. Reading your blog although these two times has helped me a lot and i want to Thank you.
ReplyDeletei am sure you have reached thousand a of people, the sick ones, the caregivers, the friends, their priests, or pastores or rabis. You are educating us all to be better and more understanding people.
Each of us has to handle our disease according to our own lights, but allow me to suggest letting a few people who are close to you know about your diagnosis. Likely they already know that something is wrong, and, if not now, then they will later, in the not o distant future. But if you haven't talked about it with them, they won't feel the freedom to talk about it with you, isolating you. There is nothing like a supportive community, but it's difficult for one to form if there's this elephant in the room that no one can mention.
DeleteWelcome back and happy to hear you enjoyed the Christmas holiday with your family! I love reading your thoughtful prose and quite selfishly, hope you will continue this blog- but only in a manner and tempo that suit you. Your reflections, observations, explorations and discoveries all serve to inform, enlighten, inspire and reassure.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI have followed you for months and really find your personal
view of this horrible disease very informative. I cared for my
husband, and really wanted to know what he was thinking/feeling.
I think it is wonderful that your symptoms haven't deteriorated that
much - don't apologize. I agree with others, write when you feel like it.
We will wait. Thank you so very much for sharing your life with us
Thank you for your inspiring story. My grandmother is being effected by Alzheimer's as well. I am looking for different places that we could take her to get her the best care available. I would rather help her myself, but there are professionals that know more about that kind of care than I do. I think the people at Queen Anne Manor can help the best in our area.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I don't have the personal experience to vouch for it, several professionals and caregivers have pointed out in these com,ments and direct emails to me, that a good AD care facility can be much better than staying at home with a frazzled caregiver. I have also heard that Queen Anne Manor is one of the better ones.
DeleteI appreciate everything you write because it all comes from the heart with refreshing honesty. As a blogger myself, I struggle with some of the same questions. I've been ruminating for the past two weeks about the disappearance of the 'Christmas Letter'. Long newsy letters have been replaced with a brief list of bullet points that list the highlights of the past year. I don't mind if others do that, but that is not me. I have to share 'stories' of my past year - not a brief list of the highlights. So I now agonize over that .... do my lengthier letters somehow convey to others that I think my life is more interesting that theirs? That introspection leads to a low grade depression and a decision that I'm going to stop writing them altogether - or at least shorten my list (considerably) to just a few of my deceased parents' elderly friends who seem to have the time and interest to read and comment on my letters. Trouble is, I've made that decision every year - for the past five years (at least) - and when December rolls around, I can't help myself. I write 'one more letter' - send it out - only to fall into the same mire of regret, come January. I share this because deep down I KNOW that it would be better to just be true to myself and not worry about who reads them or what they think of them (eg. as a single person, does writing about my dogs - instead of my grandchildren - convey immaturity, or worse - that I don't have a 'real life'?) I'm only marginally successful at blowing off those anxieties, but as I read your last entry, I clearly see that you are agonizing over the same things and I want to say to you - "Give yourself a break. Continue to be true to yourself. Write whenever and whatever you want. People appreciate you for being YOU." CELEBRATE the fact that your disease isn't progressing rapidly ... don't worry that you are in some absurd way letting your readers down because of it! I have known of you since I lived in Grand Marais many years ago, have read your books and then discovered this blog a year or so ago. I absolutely love your transparency and hope you'll never regret it.
ReplyDeleteThanks. What I'm recognizing through writing this blog and listening to folks like you is that my task here is to write as clearly as I can about my experience and allow others to decide whether it is meaningful to them. Better that than to try to figure out what another person wants.
DeleteWow, a lot of responses. I couldn't agree more. Life is too short anyway, you need to get out there and dance when you feel like dancing and singing when you feel like singing. I was happy for you when I read you were off on vacation. Write when you feel like writing. Get out and enjoy life when you can.
ReplyDeleteI hope you will feel free to write what you feel like writing and not worry too much about how we receive it.
ReplyDeleteJust now I'm in the space of having people who care about me tell me that my fears about increasing cognitive deficit are groundless.
I'm receiving that in the same way that people who have complained about feeling patronized receive it when someone who was actually doing the patronizing says, 'oh of course not, you shouldn't feel that way.' Which is to say - just because the other person (friend, or reader) feels uncomfortable and wants to persuade us that our losses are imaginary, that doesn't make them so.
Just because I test 'normal' on the neuropsych testing doesn't mean I have no impairment; it just means I can still pass for 'normal' as an aging human being. The fact that my current 'normal' is no match for last year's 'normal' rather escapes their notice - at least, until a subsequent round of testing shows I'm a little bit less 'normal' than I was before.
Me, I don't care if you have an accurate diagnosis of Alzheimers', or multi-infarct dementia, or normal aging.
I have learned a lot from reading a few of your posts (I just got here a couple of months ago, when a friend pointed me in your direction). I expect I'll learn a lot from whatever you write, whether it's directly about cognitive impairment or not.
Wishing you plenty of love, light and laughter in all you do, in whatever way you do it
Hi, Maggie. I've learned a good bit about neuropsych testing over the past couple of weeks, and I share your experience. As some others have said in comments previously; no objective test is going to be able to prove that you have not declined unless you've taken similar tests before the decline. Especially earlier in the disease, we need to trust our own subjective experience.
DeleteLike others, I am very thankful for your blog, regardless of the frequency of your entries or their content. Please continue to follow your heart. I view a blog as I do a home, in that the homeowner decides whether or not (s)he is up for company.
ReplyDeleteMy feeling on reporting symptom etc. repetition, introspection, etc., is that everything is valuable. It all becomes part of a larger pattern that may take time to resolve. I've kept a journal for decades -- re-reading an entry the next day and re-reading it years out can provide vastly different perspectives. We never know what information we document will help us (and potentially others) farther down the line.
It is true that one cannot control audience reaction. We can only be true to ourselves, choosing what to disclose and what to keep close to the vest. Both are valid. I honor your choices and I hope that you feel free to choose. Blessings to you and yours for the New Year.
What you are doing by blogging during impairment IS very valuable! I had a TBI nearly 20 years ago. I'm now 68 and have found Aricept indispensable although it precludes my ever having long term care insurance. I max out the neuropsyche test, too. I don't think it gets at my problem at all. I think my extensive formal education and mad coping skills obscure the truth. Alzheimer's? Possibly--although no known familial history. I hope you do not back off from your blogging. Whatever your final diagnosis, your records will prove very helpful to many in the long run.
ReplyDeleteThank you for all you do. Enjoy your life while you can. Write when it strikes you to do so, but please don't stop. You are more valuable than you may imagine.
ReplyDeleteI am unable to contact you by email ... the send button does not seem to operate.
ReplyDeleteI''m not sure what the problem is. The process for contacting me via email is to click on the "contact me" link in the "Contact Me" paragraph which is at the top of this page on the left, third paragraph down. That should take you to a contact form on my website where you can write an email. I just did it successfully. (There is a problem in that it doesn't give you a signal that your message went through other than that the contact form returns to blank after your message is sent.) You can also contact me at david (at) davidhilfiker (dot) com
DeleteI look forward to your entries as they offer a comparison and insight into the varying levels of changing impairments and how they affect you. My father, a quite brilliant engineer suffers from something similar but without the acceptance, reflection and self awareness. I like to learn, have read books on AD, MCI, etc., but so appreciate it from one person's perspective who is gifted in expressing his insights
ReplyDeleteIn the words of one of the previous commenters, "I keep wishing there were a "like" button -- both on your posts and on many of the comments." I heartily agree with the many, many other people who have commented here and have encouraged your continued blogging as you are able. I very much appreciate you sharing your experiences, feelings, insights into, and interpretations about what's happening to you. It is so very valuable to me as I grapple with my father's dementia/Alzheimer's and my own personal experience with it oncoming. An official diagnosis would not render your blog either more or less valuable... And I'm sure I'm not alone in that sentiment.
ReplyDeleteI keep the link to your blog in the forefront of my browser, so I am sure to return to it repeatedly. I understand your frustration and doubt. But you are showing the way for those of us who have not yet been diagnosed, or have been misdiagnosed. All of those tests are beyond fool-proof. Really, what we all have is our own subjective reality. And you are a voice for many of us. Thank you for continuing to post, in spite of the voices that speak against you. Don't give up, please.
ReplyDeleteDavid, you could blog about brushing your teeth and I would find it interesting - please don't stop (for your sake and ours, your faithful readers). Dori from AZ
ReplyDeleteWhether you keep blogging or not, I thank you for what you have written in the past. However, I do hope you find the energy to keep writing.
ReplyDelete