Forgetting

I have a take home math examination I'm supposed to be working it but I can't stop thinking if it's even worth it for me to try and learn things.  Why should I bother advancing my education?  I'm thinking about my mom and her disease: early-onset Alzheimers.  Possibly genetic.  Possibly?  The doctor says there is a higher risk of it being genetic if it's early-onset.

Do I have Alzheimer's?  Are beta amyloid plaques slowly taking over my brain?  Every time I fumble to come up with the correct word for an object I wonder.  Every time I have to tell someone I don't remember that event I wonder.  Every time I forget where something familiar is located I wonder.  I understand that forgetting things is typical, but at what rate of occurrence?  How many instances must occur within what time frame before it causes a twinge of doubt?  A question of one's abilities?

I want to be tested for gene mutations.  There are so many big life decisions I need to make if my mom carries the mutation, if I carry it.  Life decisions I don't really want to have to make.

Holding On

It's funny what people with Alzheimer's retain in their memory.  Who picks what memories stay and which ones go?  Which ones get retained and what others slip away?

I stood up in my best friend's wedding this past weekend; it was a beautiful ceremony.  Because I was the maid of honor I've been in the loop for wedding details and I've mentioned them a time or two to my mother.  So when I called her on Sunday after the wedding on the way to the airport I was pleased that she remembered to ask about the wedding.  When it was, where it was, what my role in it was.  How beautiful the bride was, how handsome the groom looked in his tux.  The cold weather, the clear skies, the wishes of happiness we shared for the bride and groom.  We had a nice chat.

What didn't get retained was the fact that I would by flying to North Carolina for a business trip.  What it was, where I was going.  She remembered hurricane Sandy.  Knew that it was approaching the East Coast and that its fury would be felt on shore soon.  She asked me to call once I landed to let her know that I was all right.  Said that even though I wouldn't be in the path of the storm she still wanted to hear from me.

My plane landed at 10 PM, after she was already asleep.  I didn't call.

I waited until I was back in Wisconsin three days later to call and say that I made it safely.  That my original flight through Newark had been cancelled but I was able to find a new flight through Chicago.  She was confused, asking if the wedding was in North Carolina.  She asked about the ceremony, where it was, when it was, and what my role in it was.  It was as if we'd never spoken previously.  I told her about my business trip.  What I had done, where I'd gone.

How do you tell a story as if you've never told it before without your voice cracking?  How do you make sure to remember all the details so that the story remains the same?

I want to understand this better because it makes no sense to me.  Who decides what memories you get to keep and which ones you lose?  Is it repetition?   Is it key words?  It is strong emotional ties to an idea or a thought?  I don't understand.

Driving

Last weekend I received a text message from my little brother.  Mom just got stopped by the CITY cops for running a stop light.  A follow up text came a few minutes later.  She is very upset and crying.  I was 350 miles away and had laryngitis.

It had started raining while she was at Curves.  Normally Mom won't drive if the weather is inclement  but this started out of the blue and she decided to try to get home by herself instead of calling for help (she didn't have a phone with her anyway).

Here the story gets jumbled.

She ran a stop light. / It was hard to see in the rain. / She turned the wrong way down a street. / A semi had to slam on its brakes to avoid hitting her. / A woman said she (mom) almost hit her./ The police followed her for a while before finally pulling her over. / The police told her not to drive any more and gave her license to Dad instead. / The police didn't say anything. / This was the second incident this year. / This was the fourth incident this year.

The disease is obviously getting worse.  She can't drive at night, she can't drive in poor weather, she can't really drive in perfect weather.  The littlest change confuses her.  I've heard three different versions of what happened that day all from Mom.  The story keeps changing as time goes on.  Perhaps that's to be expected but it still breaks my heart each time she assumes a somber voice and says "I don't know if you've heard yet, but I'm no longer driving."

Curves had been the one, last place she was allowed to drive by herself.  Her one last shred of independence from Alzheimer's.

I wasn't expecting the progression to seem so fast.  I feel like she's slipping away and I can't hold on tight enough.  I continuously feel helpless and don't know what to do.  I want so badly to be there with her, to be able to hold her, to say everything will be all right even though we both know it's a lie.

I don't know how cope with the idea of losing my mom.  Of losing her before she's physically gone.  It's been almost one year since she was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's.  Before we knew better my brother and I would joke about it. "Mom's just forgetful, maybe it's Alzheimer's" -- because of course our mom wouldn't be affected.  She'd be fine.  It couldn't happen to us.  No one wanted to admit out loud that perhaps she really was sick, that perhaps she really did have the disease.  Alzheimer's happened to other people, not us.  And our mom was too young to have a disease that ravaged the elderly.

Tonight I attended a final dress fitting for my best friend.  I'm the maid of honor and I needed to become familiar with where all the hooks, snaps, and buttons on her dress were.  As we walked through David's Bridal I caught a glimpse of a mother-daughter pair sitting outside a fitting room.  The other daughter had just slipped back into the fitting room after finding The Dress she would walk down the aisle in.  I watched the mother sitting there sniffling and crying a little at how beautiful her daughter looked and I couldn't help but think ahead to when I would be searching for my dress.  Of how my mother might not be there to see me try it on or of how she might not realize what's going on.  

My mom forgot my birth date this year.  I haven't told anyone, it's not really something you slip into conversation.  When we talked on the phone the day before my birthday she asked if it was soon or if she'd missed it.  Would she have remembered it was even close to my birthday if my dad hadn't mentioned it right before my mom and I spoke?  I hope so but the doubt is still there.  I don't know how to get rid of my doubt.  Of my fear.  

I know I'm not alone in my fear but I don't know how to cope.  I don't know who to talk to, who to turn to.  

It was bound to happen sometime

It was bound to happen sometime, I just expected it to at the beginning of my trip to China instead of at the end.  Allow me to introduce you to the food that made me sick.

We start off with a cute little plate of bamboo and...pigeon.  Yes, one of the sky rats.  Which by the way, I have yet to see in China.  There are no visible pigeons, squirrels, chipmunks, crows, seagulls, bunnies, etc.  There are sparrows.  Everything else was turned into food if it ever existed here.

Bamboo on the left, Pigeon on the right

Why yes, that is the pigeon's head.

(Okay, so Wikipedia says that squirrels are just in the Americas, Africa, Eurasia. I'm sure I would be eating squirrel if they were in China.)

Next up was fish, and is why I think I am sick today.

"I dare you to eat me" says this fish.

Fish bodies, no head

I couldn't eat the fish bodies.  I took a couple tiny bites of the tail then abandoned it.  Not my style of food at all, plus it was gross.

Everyone thinks they're such sweet little things....

Before I start you must listen to this song: The March of the Sinister Ducks.  Go ahead, click the link, I'll wait for you to finish.

You listened to the song?  Good.  This is a tale about ducks, specifically the Pekin duck I ate for lunch Sunday.  If you listen to the tale about Pekin Ducks from Wikipedia the tale is much sadder, it's one about baby ducklings raised in captivity, then forced to eat food four times a day to get plump.  My tale is one of a tourist who visited a restaurant known for its peking duck dish.

The Setting

The tourist must get a picture with the duck statue out front.  The duck statue looks so happy, probably because it's the mascot and not the main dish.

The Main Character

When your duck is ready to be served, the duck will be brought to you whole then carved.  If the cooking process didn't take more than the length of a meal the restaurant would probably let you select your own duck from a selection of living ones.

The...Antagonist?

The carved skin and meat are then brought to your table along with a plate of steamed pancakes, sweet bean dip, and spring onions.

The pancakes, the duck skin, the spring onions, the sweet bean dip, and some fruit (the meat hadn't arrived yet).

You put it all together...

Lay pancake flat on plate, dip meat into sweet bean dip and place on pancake, add onion.

...then fold it up and eat up.  Take that you silly duck!

Since nothing is left for waste, the restaurant supplied the bones and whatever meat remained for me to take home.

The Conclusion

Too bad my hotel room doesn't have a kitchen.

I am panda, hear me...bleat?*

No, I didn't get to see any panda bears while I was China but I did get to eat like one.  While at the Sichuan Opera this past weekend I had a plate of tender bamboo.

Bamboo and a Sauce to dip them in

The bamboo came halved so it was easier to strip the think outer layer from the tender inside.

The layers of bamboo - tear off the black layers

According to the San Diego Zoo, panda bears will spend an average of 12 hours a day eating bamboo (1).  Because the plant is so low in nutrients the bears need to eat 84 pounds a day (1).  That's a lot!

Yum!

Bamboo was only an appetizer though, the main dishes were much more interesting.  At the Sichuanese Opera house the main style of food is Sichuan Cuisine.  One of the eight styles of Chinese Cuisine, Sichuan is known for bold, spicy food (2).  This style of cooking originates from Sichuan Province in southwest China, the area my coworker J is from.  He says that he grew up eating spicy food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

For the main dish we had pig intestines (yes, pig intestines), corn, and beef with peppers you stuff into bread.

From left to Right: Beef with Green Peppers and Bread, Pig Intestines, Corn

Being not a fan of overly spicy food I ate around the red peppers to get to the pig intestines.  They were  pretty good, something I could eat again though I would never want to make it myself.  The corn wasn't spicy and I devoured it.  The beef with green peppers was also good, but I made the mistake of loading my bread with too many peppers and needed a lot of tea to cool my mouth.  The bread was a dense bread, coated with oil and lightly fried with garlic.  Even just bread and meat is delicious.

*Panda bears make a sound similar to that of a goat bleating (1). You can listen to them bleat on the San Diego Zoo's website.