The luck of the draw

They wheeled me into the Procedure Room.  I think that is what I read as the nurse made a tight, right turn through the doorway.

I suppose that's what a colonoscopy is.  A procedure.  Before that process began, the doctor introduced himself.  He would have known about my India roots from my name and looks.  His name, too, was distinctly Indian, and most likely Tamil.  But, this was not the place to talk about our Indian connections.  It was the Procedure Room.

Is there any colorectal cancer history in my family, he asked.

Thankfully, there is none.

The blood-related extended family has a pretty solid health record, which is why there are many who have outlived the average life expectancy for their cohorts.  Even during my recent extended visit to India, I talked about this with my parents.  When chatting about these health issues, my parents are always thankful--and so am I--that there is no history of dementia through the generations that they can recall.

Whether or not there is a genetic component in dementia is immaterial to me.  It immensely comforts me that for quite a few generations men and women have lived long enough without losing their sense of self.  We have lucked out. 

But I don't want to be the first either.

I have always been terrified of Alzheimer's.  One does not have to look beyond this blog for posts on this issue. 

Way back, when I was barely thirty years old, which was the first time that I worked out a legal document on end-of-life preferences, I told the attorney friend that my greatest worry was that I would end up with dementia. With Alzheimer's. Dennis laughed.  "Alzheimer's won't be your problem at all, but somebody else's."

Of course I do not want to end up being a burden to somebody. That is secondary, however.  I worry about the scenario where I am no longer aware of who I am.  The body being here without the mind not knowing the self is a nightmare that I would rather not have.  To be unable to recognize friends and family, or being unable to recall whether I had breakfast leave alone what I had for breakfast ... it is not a simple Halloween scare.

I got a sample of that disease after I was wheeled out of the Procedure Room: I have no memory of wearing my clothes, putting my shoes on, walking out, being driven home, having lunch, and talking throughout to the point of repeating things.  Not even one of those activities I remember having done, yet I apparently did.  To live like that day after day, for years, is a scare that I hope I will successfully dodge like how my bloodline has done in the past.

As one who loves living the life of the mind, and with thinking as my profession and hobby, I shudder to think that I could lose it and then be around without actually being around.  I have been waiting for some kind of a development that would nuke Alzheimer's before it actually begins.

When I moved to Oregon, my first commentary in a newspaper was about the state's Death with Dignity law.  That wonderful legal structure does not apply to Alzheimer's because of the requirement of a diagnosis of a terminal disease with a statistical probability of death within six months.  While Alzheimer's is terminal in many ways, there's no definitive six-month time frame.  Oregon's Death with Dignity does not offer anything for a person like me who doesn't want to exist with the dreaded disease.

One can, therefore, see why I would want to read Amy Bloom's memoir, In Love.  Bloom writes about "her husband's [Alzheimer's] diagnosis and her quest to help him end his life in the manner he chose."  Bloom's husband, Brian Ameche, chose to exit on his own terms by going to Zurich, Switzerland, where he could legally get medical assistance to end his life.

Ameche wanted Bloom to write about this, and she did.  It will be a tough read, I am sure.  I hope that I would never need a one-way ticket to Zurich.

As I was wrapping up this post came the news that a 10-month old baby of a friend died.  The baby was born with Down Syndrome.  Life is godawful sometimes!

The tragic death of that 10-month old is relevant also because of the connection between Down Syndrome and Alzheimer's, which I blogged about in 2014:

Down syndrome is a genetic disorder that's best known for causing intellectual disability. But it also causes Alzheimer's. "By the age of 40, 100 percent of all individuals with Down syndrome have the pathology of Alzheimer's in their brain," [Michael Rafii director of the Memory Disorders Clinic at UCSD] says.

I will end by re-posting the video of Seth Rogen canvassing the US Senate for funding for Alzheimer's research.  I wish that scientists will crack the case soon.