Restarting the Blog

I've deleted the previous posts and I'm starting this blog over. I know some people may not understand why I'm sharing so much about what is going on but I feel like too many people are quiet and there is not enough information out there. Or the information is out there and there is a ton of crap that you have to wade through to get to it.

My dad has Alzheimer's Disease. He was first diagnosed with it over a decade ago. Then the diagnosis changed to Impaired Cognitive Disorder. That basically meant he sucked at organizing things. He thoughts, the order he should complete tasks, etc... For him, that was the first major thing to go. I'm not sure if he has been re-diagnosed with Alzheimer's, but I feel it is inevitable. In my opinion, when whether it's Alzheimer's or dementia, it is still devastating to the person and their family.

During everything that is going on with my dad and that part of my family, I can't forget about my Grandma Dorothy. My maternal grandmother. She's 87. Her mind is still really clear but her body is... well... she's 87 and she has a rare syndrome that she's had all her life (KT syndrome) and now she dealing with Syncope which is also know as fainting spells. Basically, when she changes planes with her body (i.e. laying to sitting and sitting to standing) her blood pressure plummets and she passes out. Of course, she doesn't understand what is going on and she thinks she is dying and calls 911. She still lives independently and I've been visiting Assisted Living facilities here in St. Pete in the hopes of moving her down here. I love her, but my Grandma is a character and I want to take her off my mom's plate so that she can focus on my dad and herself right now. 

So this all leads to the great philosophical question... which would you rather go first... your mind or your body. Good arguments can be made for both. I, personally, would rather lose my body. In watching what my dad and others in memory care are going though, it seems like absolute torture. You can tell they know something is off, but they've lost the words and the ability to put together the right sentence to describe where their frustration and fear lies. It's like eternally having something right there on the tip of your tongue and never being able to grasp it. And losing all of the memories and knowing they are gone. I know my dad recognizes me but I also can see when he gets frustrated because he knows he should recognize me but he's not able to place a name with my face. 

So I'm going to sign off today with a Pop-ism. I thought this would be a good way to document all of the great memories that I have of my dad. He is a wicked smart man and did many, many things over his long life. And he was a huge jokester and for the most part still is. Growing up when I would bring friends over and introduce them, he always changed their name to Ralph. Back then I use to think it was just a joke that we had where he called every new person that I brought over (male or female) Ralph. It always broke the ice with them too. Now I realize it was a trick he used until he remembered their name. When you are a kid you are always bringing people to the house and sometimes it's hard as a parent to remember the new kid's name right away. This way, by always calling my friends Ralph, my friends never felt like my dad had forgotten them.