My Dad Has Dementia

My Dad.

 My father has Lewy Body Dementia.  That sentence is hard as hell for me to type.  The Mayo Clinic defines Lewy Body as follows: the second most common type of progressive dementia after Alzheimer's disease, causes a progressive decline in mental abilities.It may also cause visual hallucinations, which generally take the form of objects, people or animals that aren't there. This can lead to unusual behavior such as having conversations with deceased loved ones.Another indicator of Lewy body dementia may be significant fluctuations in alertness and attention, which may include daytime drowsiness or periods of staring into space. And, like Parkinson's disease, Lewy body dementia can result in rigid muscles, slowed movement and tremors.

It is an understatement to say that his disease has caused rapid changes in our family.  He started showing early symptoms of LBD four to five years ago, though we were all ignorant of any long term implications of his forgetfulness, and fluctuating attention span.  It wasn't until the last two years that his behavior became erratic and obvious enough for my Mom to actively seek answers from doctors.  After a few trips to the neurologist, he was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia.  

Matt, Molly, Dad, and Me - c. 1981

I vividly remember my Mom calling me and delivering the information. She was business-like about it. I spent the next couple of hours learning everything I could about the disease.  It took all of five minutes to learn that this was not good news.  I learned that this disease is deadly, though no one knows exactly how long it will take.  It will incapacitate my dad, the episodes will be sporadic, and it will not be gradual.

Since then, we have watched him fade away from himself. It is heartbreaking. Slowly, we have lost parts of him that we're extraordinary. He sees people who are not there. Sometimes he doesn't recognize me, in person - or on the phone. But he is still so beautiful, and sometimes his sense of humor breaks through this brutal affliction. 

The last thing he could keep up with was Wake Forest sports, his passion. Until recently he could still tell you the latest recruits, next game, and starting lineups. But now he has lost his mental capacity to keep it in order. I really wanted to talk to him a few weeks ago about the Deacs' big win over Maryland, but I could not. And I still feel crushingly sad because of that fact. 

But I am eternally grateful that I am one of the lucky ones. I know what it means to feel love because of my Mom and Dad. And that is something that I will never lose. Hope is everywhere.