Friday, May 15 -- Still Alice

(left--Katie takes charge of NannyCare)

I vowed before leaving Salt Lake that I would do nothing for a solid month but swing in the hammock, looking straight up at the sky. After nine months at NannyCare I was four ways done--baked, fried, sauteed and toasted. The very LAST thing on earth that I want think about is Nanny! Bless her heart. . . 

Well I haven’t kept my promise. I’ve been running here and there so fast I haven’t had time to hang up the hammock. And worse, Carolyn handed me a book about Alzheimer’s as we headed out to Gerryland and I stayed up all night reading it. Here’s the funny part. The book is titled Still Alice, a novel by Lisa Genova. My version could be titled, “Still Alive!” Funny how replacing the ‘v’ for the ‘c’ changes the meaning completely. 

The story is told through the eyes of Dr. Alice Howland, a professor of cognitive psychology at Harvard, who develops Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease (EOAD) at the height of her career, age 51. The novel progresses from the first signs of the disease, the diagnosis, informing the family (EOAD is inherited, one child tested positive), work issues, and finally, arrangements for care.  

The author knows what she’s talking about. Lisa Genova has a Ph.D. in neuroscience from Harvard and writes for the National Alzheimer’s Association. 

What I found most interesting, and helpful, about the book was hearing the tale through the voice of Alice Howland. Much of it ran true to what I saw at NannyCare.

In one incident, Alice and her husband, John, are about to go out for a run. (Exercise delays the disease.) Alice forgets they plan to run and begins reading a book. John asks what she’s doing? “Aren’t we going for a run?” Alice remembers the run, but she’s confused about when John leaves for a conference.

“Are you going to the conference today?”

“No, Monday.”

“What’s today?”

“Thursday”

When does Lydia (their daughter) get here?”

Sunday.

“That’s before you leave?”

“Yes. Ali, I just told you all this.” 

Alice asks John to wait while she goes to the bathroom. In her confusion, she ends up in the broom closet. Panic sets in as Alice realizes that she’s lost in her own home.

The title, Still Alice, conveys the author’s premise that, despite the loss of memory and diminished capacity, Alice Howland is still Alice, i.e. still herself in terms of her understanding, feelings, wants and  desires. To that, I would add, that my Alice, my mother, becomes more of herself as she regresses, i.e. more of the core self reveals itself as the layers of affect and artifice fall away.

For anyone interested in Alzheimer’s disease, Still Alice is a good read.