from Kristin Leahey, The Outgoing Tide Production Dramaturg
When I was 21 years old my father’s mother died of breast cancer. I refer to her as my father’s mother because I never really knew her, or at least not in the same way I knew my maternal grandmother, or Nana, as my brother and I called her. Although I have an extremely close and loving relationship with my father, I know little of his childhood. What I do know is that my father grew-up in Lowell, Massachusetts as the son of a nurse and a traffic cop. He wanted a pony for his 9th birthday; he wanted to play left field for the Boston Red Sox until he was about 45; and, after utter failure to make it into Little League, he instead became a doctor. My father’s mother wanted him to become a priest (or a doctor); she had an extremely close and loving relationship with him; and she also accidently left him at a gas station on a trip to the beach when he was 6.
My mother said that when she traveled with my father and his mother to Ireland that my father’s mother with great passion spoke of her ancestors owning the castles that they visited. My father’s mother was the daughter of poor Irish immigrants, who immigrated during the Irish potato famine, which my parents and my father’s mother knew. My clearest memory of my father’s mother was when I was eight: she met my family at a Legal Seafood on a humid and bright Boston day wearing a winter coat and having claimed to have walked from her home in Lowell to Boston, at least a 40 minute drive on the turnpike even with little traffic. I think I realized then that my father’s mother was atypical, but I was uncertain as to why. As an adult, I now realize that my father’s mother physically died of breast cancer, but, many years before, she slowly but steadily began to die from Alzheimer’s disease.
5.3 million Americans suffer from Alzheimer’s disease, a form of prolonged and progressive dementia, described as a loss of memory and other mental capabilities interfering with daily life. Symptoms include challenges in problem solving; confusion with time, people and places; memory loss; changes in mood and personality; among others. The cause of Alzheimer’s is unknown: some assumptions include lifestyle, the environment, or genetics. According to the Mayo Clinic, genetics only accounts for 5% of cases. Only $500 million goes towards research on the disease, in comparison to $5.6 billion for cancer and $1 billion for heart disease research.
Although its source remains unclear, its physical effects on the brain are apparent. The disease kills cells leading to the shrinkage of the brain. The cortex area of the brain shrivels, causing damage to the areas necessary for planning, reasoning, and remembering. Plaques or clumps of protein called beta-amyloid destroy brain cells. And tangles develop on the brain, which cause the destruction of cell to cell communication. Alzheimer’s is a slow and degenerate disease with a prognosis of 8 to 20 years of life for patients over 65 years old and 1 to 4 years for patients with early-onset Alzheimer’s, who are under the age of 65.
One of the most challenging aspects of Alzheimer’s is the unpredictability of the disease; one day the patient is lucid, and, the next, she is lost in a void. Loved ones experience a grueling process mentally and emotionally. In addition, physically caring for once independent family members provides greater challenges. Bathing, eating, and many other daily life skills must now be orchestrated and facilitated by caregivers. Many forget to take care of themselves and are resistant to turn for help. Feelings of guilt and grief commonly arise. Longing for the person you knew so well, thinking one could have done something differently, feeling one has not done enough, and dreading what one will do when the person is gone are common thoughts. Certainly, these are sentiments that my father experienced with his mother, who he watched slowly and dramatically change but continued to love very much.
