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Posts Tagged ‘Alzheimer’s poem’

A Poem Shares a Heartfelt Look at a Visit with Her Mother

 A Visit

By Cheryl Kempner

 

It’s just the beginning…

Three years in….

She knows my name.

She opens the door but does not lock it behind her.

She tries to find a place for the new picture I gave her.

She said she’d move things later.

I said let’s do it now.

It’s perfect she says.

She asks if we want a drink.

We say later.

We try to chat.. there’s little conversation.

She asks if we want a drink.

We say later.

She asks if we want a drink.

We say yes.

She tries to find the glasses.

She opens the cabinets.

One after another.

She finds the right one.

She gives me a glass.

She gets me water.

Her gait is off.

She walks slowly.

She’s young… only 75.

We sit at the table.

What’s new I ask.

Nothing she says.

Where’s your coloring.

I don’t know. I cleaned up.

The family room is spotless.

I like things organized she says.

Are you playing cards? Painting?

Playing tomorrow..good I say.

I don’t know if it’s true…

Do you want to see the pictures from our cruise I say.

Yes she says.

Let’s slide through the pictures on my phone.. are you bored yet?

No they are wonderful.

Did you have a good time.

Great I said.

How are you feeling.

She says I’m good.

You lost a lot of weight I said.

Yes she says.

What do u eat?

Eggs with… with…

I said tomatoes, cheese, spinach…

Give me a minute..

I say lox? I found it hidden in the side of the refrigerator.

She says yes, Nova.

She offers more snacks.

She takes chocolate.

Are you allowed to have it?

She says I can do what I want.

We sit again.

We look at more pictures .

Do you remember when we went to Venice?

She smiles.

Did you buy anything she asks.

Not much I said.

Some souvenirs.. I had an amazing time though.

She just holds her head in her hands and looks at my pictures. I know it’s enough.

She tells me they just came back from a trip… there was no trip.

She tells me dad left at 3:00 for cards.

I spoke with him at 530.

They were having dinner.

I know it’s enough.

She wants to change and watch tv.

I say maybe we will do this again next Thursday.

She says sure if she has no plans.

I say ok, lock the door.

We kiss goodbye.

Thank you for coming.

Lock the door.

Click

What Are Your Visits Like?

We would love to her from you.

 

 

 

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 “Feedback from the conference planning committee and our leadership team was extremely positive. 

Many attendees commented that she was one of the best speakers they had heard.” 

Pat Sylvia, Director of Education & Member Development LeadingAge Washington

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Poem Inspired By Disease – Matter of Fact

Matter of Fact

By Ron Louie, MD

Her face was matter of fact when she heard the pronouncement. 

The neuropsychologist was her colleague; he remained professional, but slipped in some sympathy with the data, which I could not appreciate.

She didn’t display a mask of depression, or Parkinson disease.

Her face remained pliable, not pleased, but neither terribly pained, no exhibition of perplexity, or petulance, or surprise, a pensive look, retaining its complex grace, a quiet reserve, a solemn alertness, the beauty of humane consciousness, with no further expectations.

In her own practice, she had encountered early Alzheimer disease first hand:

that wonderful younger woman, whose baby she had delivered, working in accounting until the numbers became exotic, then alien; she had told me about that patient, with shock, sadness, and resignation.

But I didn’t understand this. I wouldn’t. It was the guy, his tests, the setting.

At home, I made her try to draw a clock, count backward, recite words, and copy intersecting rectangles.  She tried, this good doctor who had always bested me in calculus, organic chemistry and marriage.  She wasn’t angry.

So how could I be mad? She was setting the example, as she had done her whole life, her whole career, without pessimism or regret, or fanfare, just ready to go on, even though her words and steps might mutate, unpredictably, ever aware of the possible endpoints, with each of us now grappling this present moment, trying to recognize its identity.

Dedicated to IRJ, MD; suggested by Meryl Comer

Neurology® 2018;90:139. doi:10.1212/WNL.0000000000004841

Listen above to Dr. Louie read this poem. 

 

 

 Looking for a Speaker?

See what LeadingAge has to say about Lori La Bey.

 “Feedback from the conference planning committee and our leadership team was extremely positive. 

Many attendees commented that she was one of the best speakers they had heard.” 

Pat Sylvia, Director of Education & Member Development LeadingAge Washington

For More Testimonials

Meet Lori La Bey in March

Click Below to Download the Tips

Push Research Forward – Join the A-List

Read Full Post »

A Beautiful Poem About Alzheimer’s

Alzheimers 

By Paula Allen 

 

Down by the sea

on this beautiful day

Brings back memories

of my friend far away.

 

He became a fireman,

and later a nurse

Never thinking his studies

would bring him face to face

with the Alzheimer’s curse.

 

This disease that attacks the brain

was like a mirage that left me in doubt

and he in pain.

 

He got his degree and followed his dream,

Moved upstate by a running stream.

 

As a male nurse he was in great demand

The nursing home in town he worked

with compassionate command.

 

Such sorrow,

sadness he witnessed.

The alzheimer’s patients endure

Knowing there was to be no cure.

 

Years have passed and I received a note.

He had moved to a little hamlet  on

Long Island he wrote.

 

Retirement has come, if only I can.

Enjoy the long-term plan.

 

He used the phrase in the beginning

They’ve got me in the loop and I want to let go,

It was like a spider spinning his web in his head,

oh so slow

 

My kindhearted friend suffered with hallucinations,

confusion and sadness each morning,

The helplessness I felt

as the new day was dawning.

 

The compassionate nurse has now become

the patient, so filled with fear.

Is this the end of my retirement year?

 

Near the end he asked me to pray,

That someone, somewhere would find the cure someday.

 

Thank you Paula. We so appreciate you taking the time share your poem and heart with our community.

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~  Lori La Bey, founder of Alzheimer’s Speaks

 

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