An Absent Mind Read Online Free PDF

neurons die, specific functions such as short-term memory, spatial relationships, reasoning, and eventually things like muscle coordination, and even swallowing, are affected. The result is always death.
    One of the sad things about this horrible disease is the time line. On average—and I say on average, because it’s different for everyone—it takes about six to ten years for the disease to run its course. I have seen it take a much shorter time in patients with early-onset Alzheimer’s, where the disease starts when the person is in his forties or fifties—but that’s usually a specific inherited gene and not what Mr. Reimer has—to over twenty years in rare cases.
    Mr. Reimer and his wife just left my office. He already has some anomia—difficulty in finding the right word, but is capable of circumlocution—talking around the word that can’t be recalled. He seems to have only the beginnings of agnosia. What I mean by that is he can still recognize most objects and know what they’re for. For instance, he knew what to do with the pen he used to draw on one of the assignments I gave him. And he still recognizes those around him. And as for apraxia, spatial relationships, and motor skills, he had only a little trouble, which is normal in the earlier part of the disease.
    I ordered a computer scan of the brain, as well as some blood tests for Mr. Reimer as a complement to a clinical evaluation. The results of the latter will give me a fairly accurate depiction of where he fits on the one-to-seven Reisberg Scale. Number three represents minimal cognitive dysfunction. By the time patients get to number seven, they are usually in a care facility, unable to function at all, even to lift their heads or open their eyes for any meaningful period of time.
    Assuming the tests confirm my preliminary diagnosis, I will start him on medication, which will not slow down the disease but will help alleviate the symptoms for at least a few months, or maybe even a year or two, giving him a better quality of life during that time.
    I will also schedule an appointment with Mr. Reimer’s wife, the primary caregiver, not only to search out more information on the progress of her husband’s disease, but also to evaluate her own health and coping skills. She told me she has a history of heart problems, high blood pressure, and elevated cholesterol. Taking care of her husband will put a lot of stress on Mrs. Reimer, so we have to be especially careful.
    I spend more than half my time doing research into possible cures, but I know deep down that any significant discovery that would eradicate this horrific disease is years away. That is too many years to stave off the death sentence that I pronounced on Mr. Reimer today.

Saul

    The Lynch Party
    T he usual suspects were once again gathered at our house. This was to be a family council meeting, they told me, but I knew what it really was—a lynch party for one Saul Reimer.
    Moses, in the guise of my daughter, Florence, spoke first. She informed the others that her father—that would be me—had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s by the preeminent doctor in the field. Joey asked if they should get a second opinion. Everyone looked at Monique. Why, I don’t know. Maybe they had a hunch that Monique and Dr. Tremblay were friends, maybe more than friends. She said another opinion wouldn’t be necessary, that Dr. Tremblay had done all of the tests and that it was clear that the diagnosis was correct. I don’t know if it was, but I guess one consolation is that I’m not going to be committed to Roxboro!
    Monique explained to the others that the doctor had told her sometimes my brain stalls. My brain stalls—I like that one. I’ll try to remember it. Anyway, he told her to get me one of those yellow pads so she can make lists of what I have to do every day, things like taking the pills he’s prescribed, brushing my teeth, dressing, having breakfast, and making sure not to leave the stove