early onset dementia

When I was about 5 or 6 years-old, I was something of a hypochondriac. I think it stemmed from the fact that I had newly entered the world and to my dismay, had discovered it to be a potentially hostile place, full of germs, bacteria and diseases that could cut my already short life even shorter. It didn’t help that my mother’s favorite television shows were Dr. Kildare and Ben Casey, an abundant resource for new diseases or physical afflictions that I could adopt as my disease du jour. Eventually, I grew out of it. Somehow I realized that you could attribute the slightest sensation to any potentially disastrous symptom. Yes, I felt fevered, but the body temperature runs at 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. And yes, we all get headaches once in a while for whatever reason, but that does not necessarily mean I have a tumor. And so, like many childhood traits, my hypochondria dissipated in the greater fog of adulthood, until recently.

A few weeks ago, I had lunch with my best friend from Junior High through college. He announced that he had recently been diagnosed with early onset Dementia forcing him into an early retirement. As proof of his condition, he was now drawing from the coffers of Social Security, a process that usually takes several application attempts for even the most legitimate of reasons. He bragged that he was approved upon the first attempt, external validation that his was indeed a serious condition. He detailed the worst moments of realization for him – the time he forgot something in his hotel room and as he turned, he knew that there was no possible way he would be able to retrace his steps to his room. Or the time he was being tested for his condition, and he began to sweat at the simple algebra problems, especially frightening since he taught math at a private school. He has good days and bad ones and laughed at the fact that he had always prided himself on his intelligence. He was remarkably calm and accepting as he relayed all of this to me, but I sat quietly horrified. Hadn’t I been forgetting things lately? I’ve been having problems identifying actors and actresses and their filmography at recent screenings of movies. This used to be something I could do with remarkable speed and accuracy. Now I had to Google them. And I HAVE left my cell phone at home on more than one occasion, my one essential device that keeps me accessible to the world. Perhaps I, too, have early onset Dementia!

Now, I observe myself carefully, scrutinizing every mistake I make. I’m slowly convincing myself that I’m just getting older and that these little incidents are a reflection of this and not a symptom of a greater malady. I suppose if I were really concerned, I could get tested but that however, seems to only validate how ridiculous I’m being about the whole thing. So, I’ll continue to monitor myself carefully, looking for any telltale signs. I’m still capable of algebra and every morning I’m successful at the word scrambles in the newspaper. There are larger issues to worry about anyway.

In the meantime, I worry about my friend and wish him well. His mother was supposed to be dead months ago from a severe incurable blood malady that has doctors looking at her in the way they would look at a zombie from the Walking Dead. Yet she thrives, pain-free, in what seems to be perfect health with no symptoms whatsoever. I’m hoping my friend will fare as well from his diagnosis. If attitude were any indication, I’d have to bet for the most part he will be fine. I’ve come to realize through all of this that it is essential that we all enjoy every moment and give thanks for the blessings we have. Life is a transitory thing and who knows when it will be taken from us?