In my last entry Ralph realized his memory problem was serious enough to require a doctor’s visit. His doctor Andy recommended we make an appointment with a neurologist specializing in memory issues but warned it might take months before we saw anyone. Meanwhile he urged Ralph to get his cognitive skills tested by a neuropsychologist soon as possible.

The neuropsychologist was not exactly warm and snuggly as he asked Ralph preliminary questions. Ralph was defensive. Well, so was I sitting silently by his side. The tests themselves took three hours;  I waited in the lobby with a book. Driving home, Ralph said the tests were silly. He thought he aced them.

There was nothing silly about the second meeting, during which the psychologist gave us the test results. He did not mince his words in person or in his written report. Although Ralph’s problem solving skills and IQ were still high (though not as high as they used to be), his memory was down in the single digit percentages: MILD COGNITIVE IMPAIRMENT was definite and EARLY ALZHEIMER’S likely.

Ralph was angry, unwilling to accept the results. I didn’t tell him that I secretly felt relief because someone was taking my reality seriously. Or that I was petrified because someone was taking my reality so seriously, that it had a name.

Three months later we had our first appointment with our neurologist at the Memory Clinic.

More tests, same conclusion. But partly because Doc L. was such an easy-going, approachable and likable guy , we came away less worried. Mild Cognitive Impairment didn’t sound so bad coming from him.

A month or so later Doc L. did the spinal tap, a procedure that is relatively new in diagnosing Alzheimer’s but has proved extremely accurate.

A few days after that, I was caught in rush hour traffic and almost didn’t answer my beeping cell phone.But as soon as Doc L. said his name, I pulled over and parked…shocked he was calling me personally.

Ralph’s spinal tap showed the plaque build-up consistent with Alzheimer’s.

“But he doesn’t have Alzheimer’s Disease now.” Doc quickly reminded me. “He is still diagnosed with the condition MCI.” He has the condition, not the disease.

Not yet. Mild Cognitive Impairment– MCI –may not be Alzheimer’s Disease, but the plaque build up confirms that Ralph is not one of those lucky people diagnosed with MCI  who don’t have brain changes consistent with Alzheimer’s and might get better(go to Watching the Lights Go Out for a ray of ambiguous optimism). On the other hand, even for those like Ralph with telling changes, the boundary between MCI and Alzheimer’s is blurry at best, and research shows the timeline for development is unpredictable. It could take two years or twenty. Meanwhile, we have rewritten our wills, closed Ralph’s business and put our financial house in order.

“MCI,” I say when Ralph asks me to remind him yet again about his diagnosis. MCI I tell our kids and closest friends. MCI I tell myself.

No need to speak the word “Alzheimer’s aloud these days. Not yet, I tell myself, not yet.