My husband, whom I am calling Ralph at his request (see “About” above), has the Condition called Mild Cognitive Impairment. His MRI and spinal tap show that he has plaque build up consistent with the disease called Alzheimer’s, but as his doctor repeats, he does NOT yet have the DISEASE CALLED Alzheimer’s. He has the CONDITION called MCI.
Some people with MCI slip quickly into Alzheimer’s or dementia. Others reach a plateau and stay there. For now, because of his medicines, because he’s lucky, or because I’m in avoidance, Ralph seems to be on the plateau.
I admit I have not kept track of the changes in Ralph as well as I should have. I missed the starting line. And living with him day to day, I can easily miss gradual alterations that others who see him less often find shocking. Since greater changes may be coming—ok, will be coming—I need a point of reference going forward, and here it is:
What he remembers:
Facts—He watches Jeopardy every night and is still a strong armchair contestant.
His meds—As long as I fill his weekly pill boxes (Namenda and Donepezil for memory and generic escitalapram for depression and anxiety).
His daily routine—He feeds the dog, takes a walk, takes a nap, maybe spends a couple of hours every day in his workshop “organizing my tools.” Now that the weather has warmed up, he does a lot of mowing. By mid-afternoon he’s sitting on our front porch, whatever the weather, listening to the radio and smoking a cigar. (I know smoking is bad but this fight isn’t worth fighting right now.) Mondays he drives himself to see his psychiatrist. He eats lunch at Burger King beforehand and stops at the post office afterwards.
How to drive— His actual driving skills remain strong although he drives more slowly, maybe a good thing. As long as I am there to give directions, he can drive anywhere day or night. Alone, he can find his way to certain key locations : his psychiatrist, Burger King, and our daughter’s house.
What he forgets:
Who people are—not just names but also that certain people exist.
Conversations—often enough that I assume anything I have told him will be forgotten–scheduling details, financial decisions, family issues. Of course, the upside is that I can tell him a secret and know it is safe. Plus he forgets arguments immediately.
Memories, Especially Bad Memories—Despite common assumptions, his long term memory is not much better than his short term but it is selective. He has forgotten quite a few specifics of his past, but they come back with prodding. What he has more trouble remembering are arguments, why friendships went awry and family estrangements occurred. Even when he’s reminded, he doesn’t feel the old angers. An unexpected benefit.
Who he is:
Sweeter than he used to be; less aggressive; more patient; less easily bored (because he doesn’t remember the twenty minutes of waiting for the doctor once it’s over); more in the moment.
But also less ambitious; less energetic; less adventurous; more passive; more dependent.
Still passionate about his farm and his dog; still able to fix anything with his hands; still a voracious reader (he says he can’t remember what he’s reading until he opens the book); still adept at analyzing numbers, facts and human nature (even if he can’t remember his analysis five minutes later)—in other words, although I’ve been warned there’s no telling how long before MCI begins chipping more deeply into his identity, Ralph is still himself in the most important ways.
3 thoughts on “Into the MCI Maze: Starting From Today”
Eager to hear more in this probably-going-to-be-sad story that, with your obvious humor and love, is not without its positive, or at least, uplifting, moments
Sometimes it’s hard to see anything but going-to-be-sad part, not to mention the humor or love. But sometimes the humor and love are plenty.
I read this with great interest and am eager for more details. I appreciate your taking the time to share your experience in a concise and honest way, without self-pity. I like your sense of humor about it too. I hope you’ll report often.