Embracing Dementia

Dear George,

Another of my early-eighties birthdays is coming up soon.  I don’t look forward to it that much.  When I was a kid between eight and twelve, I was always excited about becoming a year older.  Nowadays I wish I were going in the opposite direction.  The two birthday aging things on my mind are death and dementia.  Neither are popular with the general public.  Death sounds the worst, but, when you think about it, it has its advantages.  You’ll definitely never be bored or irritated again.  I think that dementia gets a particularly bad rap.  I’ve been mulling it over ever since Katja asked me to bring the laundry downstairs and I brought down two pillows instead. 

My main thought is that dementia is not unique to old age, but really it’s around from the very beginning and persists throughout most of life.   You can see this immediately by going to the zoo and looking at babies in strollers. We all, of course, begin life as babies, and it’s interesting to note that they have practically no minds at all.  They gurgle, drool, pass gas, suck their thumbs, scream, cry, and poop and pee.  That’s about it.   When we think of the so-called symptoms of dementia (e.g., confusion, inability to comprehend things, difficulty learning new tasks, mood swings, poor judgment, disorientation, inability to concentrate, difficulty of thinking of words, risk of falling down, etc.), we are essentially describing what babies and toddlers are like for the first several years of life.   This suggests to me that dementia is elemental human nature.  On a 0-100% scale, I would say that babies get a dementia score of 98%.

Children, of course, are taught a lot of things as they grow older.  They still, though, remain mostly demented.  When I think of the highlights of my childhood from, say, ages five to twelve, what comes to mind is praying that the Easter bunny and the Tooth Fairy will come, not stepping on cracks which would break my mother’s back, setting the living room curtains on fire, and stealing my brother’s Halloween candy.  Based on such experiences, I’d estimate that school-age children are about 80% demented.

Teenagers aren’t much better.  They’re taller and possess better verbal skills, but they’re not much oriented than 7 or 8-year-olds.  As an adolescent, I mainly remember being overwhelmed by social anxiety, alienated from my parents, subject to mood swings, perplexed in relationships with peers, beset by fantasies, obsessed with trivialities, and worried about psychic survival.  Dementia level?  Maybe 70%. 

Adulthood is usually seen as the peak of mature mental functioning, but that’s a myth.  Society demands a certain amount of rationality and logic in the workplace, but, below that surface level of conformity, we remain largely motivated by impulse and craziness.  This is what Freud meant by the primacy of the Id.  We just keep our real selves hidden away, though our demented selves regularly break through.  At work, dementia = 45%.  The rest of the time, 60%.    

All of this changes in our older years when society kicks us out of the workplace.  Rules, roles, and social expectations gradually recede, and we become free for our real selves to emerge – silly, confused, emotional, and bumbling.  Though we get distressed about this, we could also think about it as a normal and liberating state of affairs.  Dementia, creeping up to 75% or even more.      

The conclusion seems clear.  Rather than resisting or denying dementia, we ought to recognize that it’s actually our natural state throughout our lives and embrace its presence.  Being demented, from this perspective, is the ultimate form of self-realization.  Having resolved this in my mind, now I have to think a little further about death.  Given my demented mind, that shouldn’t prove difficult. 

Love,

Dave

Excerpts From My Coronavirus Journal

Dear George, 

I’ve had lots of time on my hands since retiring, but now, because of the pandemic and stay at home orders from the governor, it is virtually endless.  One of the things I’ve done to keep productive is to start a daily Covid-19 journal.  Here are some excerpts.

Love,

Dave

Thurs., Apr. 16, 2020.

It’s been 45 days since Governor DeWine ordered schools closed and 25 days since the Ohio Board of Health issued a stay-at-home order.  Job losses in the state have surpassed 855,000, and, as of today, there’ve been 389 reported deaths (an under-estimate of unknown magnitude).  As retirees, Katja’s and my situation is not nearly as catastrophic as that of millions of others.  We’ve pretty much stuck to the stay at home rule and have lost, at least temporarily, most of our main life pleasures: OLLI courses at the university, eating out, movies, concerts, art museums, the zoo, library visits, sports events (NBA, NCAA, French Open, Wimbledon), my line dancing and zumba classes, Katja’s shopping expeditions, our respective writing groups, and social gatherings of all sorts.  We cancelled a family trip to New Orleans and will almost surely miss a long-expected July trip to visit loved ones in California.  It’s unknown when we will be able to see family members again.  Perhaps most of all, it’s unclear when our community and society might return to any semblance of normality, or whether this will even happen at all during our lifetimes.  Too much to contemplate. 

Sun., Apr. 19, 2020

We and the doggies, Iko and Li’l Paws, actually slept in till 11 a.m. this morning.  Iko had climbed onto my chest and was sleeping there, while Li’l Paws cuddled next to my rib-cage.  J brought the dogs up from New Orleans one month ago and left them in our care while he and his family are in northern California.  It’s been a blessing for us.  The dogs fit right in, and Katja and I are happy to have them.  Something brand new at a time when the pandemic has taken so many things away.  I do four walks and 12,000 steps a day with Iko and Li’l Paws, plus lots of rough-housing and petting.  An unexpected benefit is that my blood pressure has dropped from 140/85 to under 120/80.   

Wed., Apr. 22, 2020 

More people in our Ludlow Ave. business district are wearing masks.  I’m going to guess 50%, more for solo walkers, less for couples.  I’ve taken to wearing my blue bandana when I go into stores, but pull it down when I’m out on the sidewalk where I maintain physical distance.  I find all of this distressing.  In the beginning days of the pandemic, my sense was that strangers were being more friendly to one another, exchanging smiles and hellos, encouraging words.  Now people spread as far apart as possible and avert their eyes.  We are all turning into alien beings. 

Wed., Apr. 29, 2020 

It’s well-known that the novel coronavirus is much more lethal for elderly people.  Age, however, factors in beyond the prospect of dying from the virus.  At age 82 we might have up to ten years or more left to live (if we’re lucky).  However, are our lives going to be radically diminished because of the lingering pandemic?  Will we be wearing masks and keeping away from others in public for the rest of our years?  Avoiding stores and restaurants?  Right out our quality of life is seriously diminished.  I’m hopeful we’ll be able to recover some portion of it without having to risk illness and death.   

Fri., May 1, 2020

I woke up this morning with a feeling of dread.  Laying there, it dawned on me that it had to do with social isolation.  Up until recently I’ve been active member of five groups that met weekly: a writer’s group, two writing classes, two group exercise classes.  Plus going to a variety of events when we were part of big groups, e.g., concerts, musical theater, opera, art exhibitions, the zoo, etc.  Now all of that’s gone, at least for the foreseeable future, and Katja and I spend nearly all of our time by ourselves.  I never think of myself as a particularly social person, but now even I am feeling socially deprived.  

Tues., May 5, 2020

Katja’s crown on a front tooth came out, and the dentist’s office, just reopened, was able to see her the next morning.  New age dentistry was upon us.  We waited in the car, rather than the waiting room, till a masked staff member came out to escort Katja in while maintaining a six-foot distance.  Katja wore her mask too.  They took her temperature, asked her questions, and she cleaned her hands with Purell, washed her hands in the sink, and soaked them in Lysol for 30 seconds.  The dentist in his protective equipment fixed her up in half an hour.  We headed for home, nervous about having been out in the contaminated world.  

Thurs., May 7, 2020

What groups are experiencing disproportionate deaths during the pandemic?  People over 65, particularly those with underlying medical conditions like heart disease or cancer.  Health care workers.  African-Americans, Hispanics, Native Americans.  People in nursing homes, prisons, group homes, immigrant detention centers.  Lower income people and/or those lacking health insurance.  The homeless.  Meat-packing employees.  People who live or work in crowded, high-density locations.  For the most part, the disenfranchised members of our society.  

Sat., May 9, 2020

Usually I try to find something humorous when I meditate on life, but, along with climate change and the Trump presidency, I can’t find anything amusing about the pandemic.  I googled “COVID-19 jokes” and was surprised to get a number of hits.  Most of the jokes were mildly humorous at best.  Here is my favorite”  “So far my self-isolation life is remarkably similar to my normal life.”  (Too true.)  

Tues., May 12, 2020

Katja is off to her doctor’s appointment to check out severe pains in her hand.  She was excited about going, and I was mostly nervous.  Katja said she would wear her gloves and mask and would be fine.  She said the doctor’s office wouldn’t be open if it wasn’t safe.  I thought to myself that the doctor’s office is opening even though it isn’t safe.  Perhaps I’m overly cautious.  Or maybe Katja is overly risky.  Or some combination of the two.  

Wed., May 13, 2020

Our local newspaper carried the stupidest article about pets and the coronavirus today.  The general theme was that the coronavirus is very upsetting to dogs and cats.  They’re not used to having humans home all day, and it messes up their routines, especially sleep patterns.  Also getting petted so much is stressful and makes pets cranky.  They can get injured from jumping around and playing so much.  Because they’re not confined, dogs and cats are getting into more fights.  I say all this is hogwash.  Our visiting dogs love having the humans with them all day, and they can’t get petted enough.  They don’t get injured jumping and playing (though their humans are more likely to).  All in all, the pandemic is like utopia for pets.  

Mon., May 18, 2020

Today Katja and I took a trip to the Party Source in Northern Kentucky, billed as the nation’s largest liquor store.  It is big, like a Kroger super-store.  But talk about nonessential trips.  We only had three bottles of expensive whiskey left in the house, so that was a seemingly good reason to go.  Sort of.  I picked up a cart at the entrance, and then an employee wiped down the handle with disinfectant.  A stupid system since I was already infected from touching the cart.  I bought more whiskey than usual, either to delay a next trip or to drink more whiskey because of the pandemic.  If we wind up infected, at least we can stay in a stupor.   

Sun., May 24, 2020 

So, does the coronavirus have a silver lining?  I’ve been trying to think of positives that have resulted.  The most obvious is that we have gotten to have two sweet dogs in the house that otherwise wouldn’t be here.  Katja and I necessarily spend more time together, and I think we’re more positive to one another as a consequence.  I’m more in touch by phone and text with several loved ones.  I watch more funny sitcoms on Netflix.  Katja has been cooking up a storm, lots of delicious meals.  I’m more careful about staying well.  On the other hand…   

Tues., May 26, 2020

Our streets have been near-empty at night since the pandemic started, and I walk the dogs in the business district because at least it is well-lighted.  Tonight Lil Paws barked at an apparent homeless man who stepped out of an alley, and he started following us, screaming gibberish at the dogs and waving his arms.  Both dogs started barking wildly and strained at the leash to get at him, which only made the homeless man more agitated as he followed us.  I pulled the dogs into the street and over to the opposite sidewalk.  The homeless man stayed on his own side, but continued to shout obscenities at the top of his voice.  The near-violent episode still makes me uncomfortable.  

Mon., June 1, 2020

Kroger is having its current Lean Cuisine sale (5/$10), so I decided to stock up.  I skipped our nearby Clifton store because I read that three employees had the coronavirus, and I skipped the second closest store in Corryville because Katja said hardly any of the customers wear masks there.  Instead I drove 10 miles to the Harrison Avenue Kroger store on the West side.  About half the customers were wearing masks, and half weren’t.  As an in-store mask wearer myself, I identified with the former group and looked somewhat askance at the latter group.  Though I wasn’t fanatic about it, I think wearing masks when in close proximity indoors is  considerate.  So it was easy to tell the good guys from the bad guys.  In my mind, I imagined that the non-mask-wearers were Trump voters.  Just another example of our society becoming polarized.        

Wed., June 3, 2020 

I can’t believe that it’s already June.  Dr. Amy Acton issued a stay at home order for Ohio on March 23, and we haven’t eaten out or gone to any sort of event since that time.  72 days of “sheltering in place.”  All these days run together, and, even though the reopening process has begun, it’s going to be some time before we’re comfortable venturing out.