What would I do?

Memory - Image credit

The delightful Kate, from Kate Says Stuff posted this thought provoking question today.

If you had no memory of yesterday, and no understanding that tomorrow might exist, what would you do today?

I think about this a lot.

Both of my maternal grandparents had Alzheimers disease and Multi-infarct Dementia . My great grandmother had Alzheimers as well. I cannot remember my great grandmother very much, but I watched my grandparents deteriorate over the years. My Pa passed away when I was seventeen. He had been unwell for ten years prior to his death so I didn't have much comprehension of what was going on and as children we weren't really told much. Looking back on it all now it would have been really helpful to have been given some kind of explanation...(yet ANOTHER story for yet ANOTHER time.)....both for our understanding and for Pa's benefit. It's only been as an adult that I've gained some understanding of what Pa was going through at the time and what kind of "old people's home" he was actually in.

*shakes head*

Word to the wise...tell children the truth, even when it might be difficult. It helps.

Nanna passed away in 2009, not long after she was formally diagnosed with Alzheimers. Watching her decline was harder, even though I knew what was happening. I think the hardest thing was watching this strong, formidable woman become a mere shadow of who she was. Alzheimers is horrible. It takes away your loved ones years before they actually leave.

So....when at the age of 45 a couple of years ago a random MRI of my brain showed that there were areas of atrophy I immediately thought of Nan and Pa and saw myself heading down the same path.

"We usually don't see this kind of thing happen until the age of 65," my doctor told me. It wasn't very encouraging or comforting. I already knew that I have diverticular disease which was diagnosed in my early 30's - again something you don't normally see in anyone under the age of 45, so to get the news of my brain shrinking at the age of 45 was.....kind of scary. Guts I can handle....brains going haywire are a little more tricky.

So....when Kate posed the question this morning my thoughts immediately went to Nan and Pa and my own brain atrophy diagnosis. Near the end my grandparents had no memory of five minutes ago let alone yesterday. I don't know if they had any thoughts of tomorrow as their capacity for speech left them. They were in the perpetual now. Like, right now. Second by second.

I wonder what that was like for them?

Was it scary or were they just content to be?

Leading up to being in the perpetual now, when she was still chatty and talkative, Nanna would repeat the same stories over and over. The last one I remember her being stuck on was remembering something my children did one day when she was looking after them. (before she became unwell) Every time I'd visit she would recount that story over and over....every five or so minutes.

I didn't mind. It brought her joy to recount it...and perhaps she felt she was contributing to the conversation more by doing so. I could see in her face that the story warmed her heart...and at that stage in proceedings I was happy just to see her happy.

I don't know what's ahead for me. No one can tell me what this atrophy is all about, why it's there, whether it has something to do with my achondroplasia and the larger ventricles that accompanies it or if it's related to depression and stress. No one can tell me if it's the early stages of the same path my grandparents trod.

What I do know though is that I am OK now. Some of the memory lapses I have can easily be attributed to things like stress, being distracted, too many things on my plate.....and the dreaded "M" word.......

No, not THAT one..........*menopause* (shhhhhhh!)

I guess my diagnosis prompted me to concentrate more on NOW. Now is very important.....being mindful, intentional, deliberate. Sucking the very marrow out of each moment. It has prompted me to let go those things over which I have no control. It has encouraged me towards positivity, believing the best in and for others even when they may not reciprocate. My running has become my meditation; being thankful to be out and free in the fresh air and quiet of the morning, breathing in the goodness of being alive each day. When my Pa was alive one thing he didn't forget how to do was ride his bike. He often took his bike out for a ride every day (once or twice in his dressing gown) and rode the streets of the town he'd lived for so long. Did this bring him comfort? Did it fill him with a sense of purpose and calm? I wish I knew. My running does it for me....maybe his riding did the same for him.

If you had no memory of yesterday, and no understanding that tomorrow might exist, what would you do today?

I'd live. I'd live in the moment. Hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second.....so that if one day I actually don't have any memory of yesterday and no understanding of the existence of tomorrow I will have already taught myself to live in the beauty of today.