From the AlzAuthors Blog: Mary Edwards Olson and her Memoir "When the Sun Shines Through"

By Mary Edwards-Olson

I wrote When the Sun Shines Through because of my personal journey. I was a caregiver for my mother and watched first hand as Alzheimer's slowly stole her from us.

My mother, Elizabeth Edwards, lost her fight with Alzheimer's on October 23, 2017.

Caring for my mother was a roller coaster of emotions. You go from crying so hard that every inch of your body aches, to being so overwhelmed with joy when a piece of them perks through the mask of Alzheimer's. I was ignorant to this disease and its cruelty until I watched it slowly take my mother, piece by piece. It was hard as a caretaker to understand that Mom wasn't Mom anymore in terms of behavior. There were days I thought she was being lazy or difficult on purpose and I would get so upset. It breaks my heart I ever thought that. It was the disease, in those moments. Please remember it's the disease. Your loved one is in there, scared and confused. Show compassion and remember to take time for yourself. As a caregiver, we often take a back seat, but remember your loved one needs you to be happy, and emotionally and physically healthy. They may not express it but they understand.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Meet Ann Balcom, Blogger and Author of "The Blue Velvet Drape - Dealing with Dementia"

By Anne F. Balcom

Mom was diagnosed with dementia in 2006. From the moment my parents told my sister and me the news I began losing sleep, a lot of sleep. The worry of “How were we going to get through this?” was eating me up. I would lie in bed at night for hours thinking and crying while my husband and kids were sleeping.

After many sleepless nights, I began getting out of bed in the middle of the night, going to the living room and jotting down my thoughts in a journal. I had so many thoughts and concerns that I could not write as fast as my thoughts were coming, so I began to type them. I would print out what I typed and tape it into my journal.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Lisa Wingate, author of "Tending Roses"

By Lisa Wingate

The Gap

In every story I write, there are bits of real life, nibblets of sheer invention and sprinkles of serendipity. Readers often ask me which parts are which. Sometimes, it’s hard to dissect. Our way of looking at the world comes from our experiences in it. Our passions, the things we care about enough to examine, do as well. I’ve talked about caretaking and the Alzheimer’s journey quite a bit in my books. It’s an issue I know intimately. 

My first novel, Tending Roses, was in part walking that path with my grandmother. She was a storyteller, a keeper of stories. She could wear you out with her stories, but they always came with a lesson at the end. And then, the stories, one-by-one, piece-by-piece, faded away. The newest ones vanished first. It’s a bittersweet journey, the road of memory loss. My straight-laced, sometimes overbearing grandmother lost some of her inhibitions as she lost those stories. There were funny times, tender times, funny things she said that made us laugh until we cried.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Our 3rd Anniversary and Alzheimer's and Brain Awareness Month Book Sale, Giveaway, and Raffle

It's Alzheimer’s and Brain Awareness Month, and AlzAuthors is celebrating its THIRD ANNIVERSARY! To celebrate this achievement, and in support of those living with Alzheimer's and other dementias, we have put together a book sale and giveaway, and a raffle, where one lucky winner will win a collection of 14 books from our authors.

Starting today through June 12 you can take advantage of this excellent opportunity to check out some of our books at reduced prices or FREE. We offer a variety of genres, from fiction, children's, memoir, and non-fiction in digital, paperback/hardback, and audiobooks. Our books are written from a deep place of understanding, experience, knowledge, and love. May you find one – or two, or three! – to help guide you on your own dementia journey. And they make great gifts!

Visit AlzAuthors to check out the sale

To enter the raffle click here NOW!

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From the AlzAuthors Blog: Miki Klocke, Photographer and Author of "Alzheimer’s - Beyond Caregiving"

by Miki Klocke

My Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s when she was 56 years old and still working two jobs. I was 33 and became her full-time caregiver. A few years into our journey, when Mom still occasionally had coherent moments, we talked about how difficult this path is and what limited resources there were to help us. There wasn’t anyone for us to talk to. During that conversation I promised Mom that I would share our story so that it could help others. I had no clue how I would accomplish that as I had a degree in photography and limited writing experience.

Many very overwhelming years passed where that promise remained a passing thought. During what would be Mom’s fourth year on hospice, I finally had the time to get serious about keeping my promise. I wrote, I shared, I rewrote many, many times. Photography has always been a part of my life, a lifeline, in fact, during the difficult years of caregiving. Through encouragement, I was led to combine my photography and writing into a visual and poetic expression of the trials and tribulations of caregiving that became Alzheimer’s: Beyond Caregiving.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Cofounder and Admin Jean Lee, “Alzheimer’s Daughter”

by Jean Lee

Both of my parents were diagnosed with Alzheimer’s on the same day. They were in their mid-eighties. I was the hometown daughter, working full time as a third grade teacher. My only sibling lived 1,000 miles away.

That sounds like a recipe for disaster, but my far-away sister was my greatest support­­­­‑‑my therapist by phone. Early on, about five years before our parents’ diagnosis, conversations with my sister usually started with me talking about vague, weird things I was observing. Those concerns became more specific, like rotting food in the refrigerator and hushed stories whispered by neighbors that Mom and Dad had gotten lost on the way home from the mall. During those conversations my sister suggested I begin a journal to document frequencies and specifics. Like a traitorous spy, I kept the journal for two years. It became an integral part of our parents’ diagnosis.

Our parents were a tight team. Never did they tattle or express concern about one another. Mom never said things like, “Your dad glides through stop signs.” Dad never implied Mom couldn’t remember how to start the washer or move clothes to the dryer. They experienced a simultaneous decline, hand in hand, just like they’d faced everything else in life. I couldn’t rely on one to help me make decisions to safeguard the other. Those painful decisions fell to my sister and me. My sister was willing to come home with the intention of being the bad guy, delivering the news when we moved them from their home to a senior care facility. She allowed me to remain the loving caregiver. I can never thank her enough for being there for me, and I know she can never thank me enough for being there for Mom and Dad.

Over the course of five years and three moves, eventually to a locked memory care unit, our parents died peacefully within one year of each other. Mom died first. When I told Dad, he said, “She was just here, saying she’d wait for me in heaven.” In the year following her death, even though he couldn’t remember he’d had a wife of 66 years, he’d randomly wave at the clouds and say, “I’ll be there soon.”

I told only a handful of friends and coworkers about our situation. Those I confided in told me I should write a book about this dual decline. I brushed that off, thinking, I’m drowning, I barely have time to write my lesson plans. However, when I sat with my father only one week after my mother’s death and Dad said, “Where is that woman I admired?” I came to realize our story could help others.

Are you at peace with what you wrote?

Many people ask me if writing our story in Alzheimer’s Daughter has been cathartic. Nothing could be further from the truth. My parents gave me everything in life, and during the Alzheimer’s process, I felt like I took everything from them. So, even after working on my book for four years, I released our personal story with great guilt. I really believed I could be struck by lightning as I pushed the final publish button.

However, in the aftermath, reader’s reviews have brought peace. During the final cleanout of my parent’s home, while trying to sort treasure from trash, I found my parents’ WWII love letters. I used these letters as chapter beginnings. Readers say the passion and devotion in the letters show the glue that held them together until their last breath. I believe my parents’ writing is the most beautiful part of the book. To have used their words along with my own, I know I pay tribute to them.

Does your book help end the silence and stigma of Alzheimer’s and dementia?

As a career educator, I read to learn and solve problems. Reading also guided my way through our Alzheimer’s journey. Each book, each voice, helped strengthen me for difficult times. No story was exactly like mine in that both parents were diagnosed at the same time. So, I added my voice to the choir, writing my story so it may help you through your own journey.

About the Author

After the publication of Alzheimer’s Daughter, Jean connected with other authors of Alzheimer’s books, to co-found AlzAuthors.com. Their mission is to eliminate the stigma and silence often accompanying a diagnosis while enabling caregivers and those living with memory impairment to find written resources – memoirs, novels, nonfiction, or blogs – which educate and enlighten.

In slightly over a year, the site is now managed by five administrators, and has posted weekly essays from nearly 150 authors with direct links to their books.

You can order a copy of Alzheimer’s Daughter to read Jean’s story. Please browse the nearly 150 titles about Alzheimer’s and dementia at AlzAuthors Bookstore.

Growing from her years of teaching elementary school, Jean has recently published two children’s books, Lexi’s Triplets and Lexi’s Litter of Three about her grandchildren and their beloved pets. She’s busy writing the third book in that series, Julia’s Journey to Her Forever Home.

Connect with Jean Lee

Alzheimersdaughter.com

Alzheimer’s Daughter on Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

From the AlzAuthors Blog: "Blue Hydrangeas, an Alzheimer's Love Story"

Writing a book about Alzheimer's was not something I planned to do when I sat down to write my first novel. It was a lifelong dream to one day write a book, but I had something else in mind when I started typing. That story was going nowhere when I met the captivating couple that inspired me to write Blue Hydrangeas, an Alzheimer's love story.

She was a beautiful 86-year old who was very confused when I, her case manager, met with her regarding her discharge plan from the hospital. "I'm so mixed up," she said multiple times, while her frail but dedicated husband sat beside her with a bemused smile. How had these two driven from Florida to New York on their own without any mishap? I wondered, as I reviewed her plan, which was to go to a nursing home for rehabilitation of a pelvic fracture. Seems she had a fall once they arrived at their New York home.

Their son was present and asked me to make sure his parents not leave the hospital without him the following day, as he planned to accompany them to the nursing home to take care of paperwork and business. I assured him that would not happen and left, spending the next few hours pondering what would happen if they left the hospital without their son. Where would they go? What would they do? These questions became the foundation of my novel. I ditched the story I was working on and started writing Blue Hydrangeas right away. Eighteen months later, I had a complete manuscript.

When a writer falls in love with her story and characters magic happens. I easily stepped into the shoes of Jack and Sara, inspired by the hundreds of couples I helped navigate through their dementia journeys in my role as nurse and case manager. I chose Cape Cod as the setting because it's my home in my heart, and built them a beautiful bed and breakfast called Blue Hydrangeas because of the gorgeous, fluffy blue flowers all over the Cape. I wrote and rewrote the moving scenes where Sara is at the worst of her Alzheimer's, and the best. At all times, I infused the story with the deep love and dedication Jack had for his wife, even though nine years of relentless caregiving was affecting his own health.

I put my heart into this story because it was the story of many others living with dementia, and it was important, imperative, that their stories be told in a way that readers could relate to. It was not meant to be a how-to guide filled with advice from a clinical professional. It's heartfelt and warm. Grab the tissues because you'll most likely shed a few tears. Readers have written to me personally and posted reviews on Amazon that the story has touched and inspired them, validated their own experiences, and in some cases provided relief. "This story is my story too," one wrote. Another said, "It was what I needed to let the grief release."

My personal background with the disease when I wrote the book included my patients and their families, as well as three beloved aunts who succumbed to the disease. I was an observer in these interactions, not responsible for any of these people or the important and heart-wrenching decisions that needed to be made on their behalf. But two and a half years after publication, I started living my own story when I became the legal, medical, and financial representative of my stepfather who was diagnosed with three types of dementia: frontotemporal lobe, vascular, and Alzheimer's. Although I had written a book about Alzheimer's, worked as a nurse and case manager, and knew more about the dementias than most people, I soon learned I didn’t know much at all. It was a steep learning curve fraught with frustration and feelings of inadequacy. Without the help of my friends at AlzAuthors I'm not sure I would have come through the experience intact.

I now work in college health where Alzheimer's and dementia are not the most pressing of my concerns, but my dedication to help educate others about these diseases and chip away at the stigma that surrounds them is stronger than ever. I am coordinating a fundraiser for my local Alzheimer's Association and an education program for the entire campus in June, and organizing a team for the Alzheimer's Walk in October. And I will continue to work with AlzAuthors, spotlighting books and blogs that are a source of wisdom, comfort, and support for the caregivers and others who need them.

Purchase Blue Hydrangeas 

For more vetted books on Alzheimer's 

and dementia visit the AlzAuthors Bookstore

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Linda Brendle, Author of "A Long and Winding Road: A Caregiver's Tale of Life, Love, and Chaos"

The Accidental Author 

By Linda Brendle

My goal in life was not to become a writer. I enjoyed writing when I was younger, and I toyed with the idea making a career of it until I received my first negative review from an English teacher. I don’t take criticism very well, and I took her comments very personally. Years later, though, after the sting of her rejection had faded, and especially when I became a caregiver, the need to express myself resurfaced.

Becoming a caregiver was not one of my ambitions either. When I was in the seventh grade and was asked to write an essay on “What I Want to Be When I Grow Up,” my choice of careers was not caring for my aging parents. However, when a loved one has a need, you step in to help. Then, whether by small increments as the need progresses, or all at once because of a catastrophic event, you realize that you have become a caregiver.

When I became a real hands-on caregiver, I often went to Aunt Fay for advice. She’s Mom’s younger sister, and she cared for both her mother and her husband for many years. One thing she told me was to keep a journal, because one day my experiences might be of help to someone else, and I took her advice. I didn’t write every day, but after a particularly trying episode, I’d write about it and post it on Facebook. It was a safe way to vent, people responded positively, and I was encouraged to continue to write.

Later, my husband David and I bought a motor home and fell in love with the RV life. We were both retired, so we decided to take an extended trip through the southeastern part of the United States. Mom and Dad were living with us by then, so they were included in the plans. I knew that sharing a tiny living space with two people with Alzheimer’s, even two people I loved dearly, would lead to many trying episodes, so I took along several of my favorite pens and a spiral notebook.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Meg Foster and "7 Spiritual Steps for Caregivers - A Path to Meaning and Hope in Alzheimer’s & Dementia Caregiving"

By Meg Foster

7 Spiritual Steps – A Journal to Ease the Way

According to Alzheimer’s International, globally, there are nearly 44 million people that have Alzheimer’s or a related dementia.

In America alone, there are 5.3 million living with Alzheimer’s disease. 74% of caregivers of people with Alzheimer’s disease and other dementias reported that they were “somewhat concerned” to “very concerned” about maintaining their own health since becoming a caregiver.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Linda Jenkins and "To Helen with Love, A Memoir of a Daughter’s Caregiving Journey"

By Linda Jenkins

After five years in the making, writing this memoir has been one of the most intense endeavors I’ve ever taken on, but well worth it.

While I was writing this memoir I discovered how much pain I still had deep inside of me. Pain from some of the experiences. Pain from not knowing what or how to deal with dementia. Pain of not understanding what caregiving entails. Pain from dealing with the healthcare field. Finally, pain when it’s all over.

Many times through my caregiving years I felt lonely inside. Even after my Mother’s death I felt loneliness. You know what I mean if you are a Caregiver or have been one. Even though I was surrounded by family and people I loved, there was still a sense of loneliness.

Pouring through my journals to capture information for my memoir was like going back in time and reliving the experiences. Some of my entries were humorous and other entries were screaming, “Help! I don’t understand.” Still others were filled with sadness and torment. I even found myself in tears while typing the manuscript! I began to realize I wasn’t “done” with my grieving, not even close. That’s when I discovered I had not had any closure; I had no idea how much I needed that. Personally, I don’t believe we ever truly “get over” the death of someone we love, we just learn to accept it; we never really forget. My loved ones are still close to my heart.

My intention for writing this memoir is to help other caregivers know they are not alone in their journey. To let them know it’s an ongoing learning experience all the way to the end. There’s no magic wand to free up the pain and sacrificing a caregiver deals with.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Bobbi Carducci, Author of "Confessions of an Imperfect Caregiver"

By Bobby Carducci

“What’s going to happen to Rodger?’ was the first thing most people asked upon hearing of my mother-in-law’s passing. Extremely introverted, unable to drive, and not in good health, he’d been dependent on her to care for everything it took to run a home for many years. Fortunately my husband and I had talked about taking in one of our parents when and if the time came. We had the room and the desire to take someone in. We knew it would be hard at times but we were convinced we would make it work.

We didn’t know how sick he was, how hard it would be, or how long it would last. The first surprise for both my husband and I was learning that he was schizophrenic and had been since 1947. It certainly explained a lot about his odd behavior over the years, but until the medical records arrived no one in the family had ever mentioned the 13 years he spent in mental hospitals from 1947 to 1960. In addition to being mentally ill he developed dementia, Parkinson’s disease, congestive heart failure, and dysphagia.

I did what I could to educate myself about the various diseases and how to help him have the best possible life as long as possible. It was harder than I ever thought it could be. I called it creative problem solving on the run. All day, every day and night, was a challenge. I doubted myself so many times. Why couldn’t I figure this out? Why couldn’t I make him understand I loved him and wanted the best for him?

I often heard caregivers ask the same questions, express the same frustrations, and cry for help. “Why doesn’t someone write a book that tells people what it’s really like to care for someone with dementia at home?” I decided to write that book.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Alzheimer's Blogger and Advocate Amie McGraham

LIFE, REPURPOSED

By Amie McGraham

The year I turned fifty, I transitioned from a successful thirty-year sales and marketing career to the role of primary caregiver for my mother, returning to the island home of my childhood three thousand miles away. Mom has had Alzheimer’s for the past few years and, while she’s aware that she’s slowly slipping away, refuses to recognize this because of her religious beliefs. Disease of any type is a topic we never talk about. For her, to acknowledge dementia would be to admit that disease is real: that God’s plan has been altered.

I was raised in this religion. Based on faith healing, it rejects medicine, doctors and hospitals; prohibits alcohol, tobacco, caffeine and drugs. My parents divorced when I was eleven and I divorced myself from religion, beginning a twenty-five year spiral into a life of alcoholism, half measures and wanderlust; unfulfilled careers and relationships. Eventually, I clawed my way out and began rebuilding my life.

Repairing the relationship with my mother is part of my recovery. Immersion into the world of Alzheimer’s caregiving initially felt like a labyrinth in which all roads seemed to lead to frustration, anger and impatience. Sometimes it seemed more like a duty. But caregiving, I’ve discovered, is truly the best form of service. It's taken a while to embrace this; longer to actually live it. In caring for my mother -- actually living with her for the first time since my reckless departure from her life at age thirteen -- I have developed real compassion. For my mother. For others. And for myself.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Lauren Dykovitz, author of Learning to Weather the Storm

By Lauren Dykovitz

When I was just 25 years old, my whole world was turned upside down. My mom, who was 62 at the time, was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease. I remember that phone call like it was yesterday, although it has been over seven years now. I immediately felt completely alone and utterly lost. I didn’t know anyone my age who had a parent with Alzheimer’s. I had heard a few people talk about a grandparent who had died of the disease, but never a parent. I felt like I had nowhere to turn and no one to confide in, so I didn’t tell anyone about it. I had just gotten engaged that same month and spent the next year of my life planning my wedding without my mom, while grieving small losses of her along the way. And yet, no one knew that I was suffering. Depressed, helpless, hopeless, and lost, but somehow, I got through that very dark time.

At age 28, I made the decision to quit my full-time job and became a part-time caregiver for my mom. My experience as a caregiver taught me many lessons of life, love, and Alzheimer’s. I eventually came to accept my mom’s illness and began looking at it in a whole new way. Thinking back on the beginning, I remembered those feelings of loneliness and isolation all too well. I wondered how many other younger people were dealing with a parent’s Alzheimer’s and felt like I once did. I wanted to help them. I decided to share my story with others by writing a blog. The encouragement and praise of my readers led me to write my book, "Learning to Weather the Storm: A Story of Life, Love, and Alzheimer’s."

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Alzheimer's Advocate Brian Kursonis

 

By Ann Campanella



Brian Kursonis, who has early-onset Alzheimer’s, and I met for the first time back in April. He showed up at the memory care facility where I was doing a reading from Motherhood: Lost and Found, a memoir about my mother’s descent into Alzheimer’s. He had reached out to me a few months earlier after seeing some posts on social media about my mother’s illness.

Brian had attempted to meet me at two earlier book signing events. The first one came and went because, well, he forgot about it. The second one, there was some confusion about which Barnes & Noble I would be at, so we ended up missing each other.

The third time was the charm. When Brian walked into the dining room of the memory care facility, I recognized him immediately from photos I'd seen on Facebook and Twitter. I asked him to join our group that had gathered around a long table. I was struck by Brian’s kind smile, his intelligence and wisdom and the fact that he and I were almost the same age.

 At the time, Brian was 55 and I was 56. We connected instantly, perhaps because I had experienced 14 years of my mother's Alzheimer's, and he was at the beginning of his journey. According to research studies, he may only live 8 to 12 more years, and his cognitive function will likely decline within 2 to 4 years.

During the reading, I asked Brian tentatively if he was comfortable talking about his condition. He cleared his throat and said, “Sure. I’d be happy to.”

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Anticipatory Grief: Powerful Feelings for Alzheimer’s Caregivers

 By Harriet Hodgson

After my father died, my mother moved to Florida to be near her older sister. Two years later her sister died, and Mom felt lost without her. To fill her days, Mom went on a variety of trips, often with a friend. One day she called to tell me she was “out West.”

“What state are you in?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

What town are you in?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, where are you now?”

“I’m in a phone booth!” she replied in an angry voice. (Phone booths still existed then.)

Was my mother with a tour group? Did she have enough money? When would she be home? I didn’t have a chance to ask these questions because Mom blurted, “But I can’t talk to you now because the boat is going down the Colorado.” Then she hung up.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: S.R. Karfelt, author of Nobody Told Me - Love in the Time of Dementia

By S. R. Karfelt

Writing about memory loss wasn’t something I’d planned to do. I’m a fiction writer. But when my mother-in-law could no longer live on her own she moved in with me and my husband, her son.

That same husband and son had to go work in Asia soon after she arrived, leaving me alone with Gummy for a short but difficult while. His parting words were, “Do whatever it takes to survive it.”

What do writers do to survive? They write.

Even then I didn’t plan to write a book. I had my next fiction book lined up. My grand plan was to get Gummy settled, on medication, and used to her life here. Then I’d get back to writing. I’d blocked off a couple months to accomplish this.

Is it even possible to get someone used to losing their memory? I was so young and naïve last year. Gummy couldn’t remember where she was or why. She packed to go and asked questions non-stop until she’d drop from exhaustion, and later wake up panicked and deep into sundowning in the middle of the night.

At some point I wrote a desperate post on Facebook. The tsunami of support that came from others who were going through the same thing, or had, surprised me. It helped knowing I wasn’t alone. I continued writing about Gummy privately. Eventually I told my publisher the expected book wasn’t going to happen. I could barely take the time to go into the bathroom alone, let alone write.

       Saffi? Saffi? Where’d you go?

             I’m in the shower, Gummy! I’ll be right out!

       Hello? Is anybody here?

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Crissi Langwell and Come Here, Cupcake, a novel

By Crissi Langwell

The story of Come Here, Cupcake focuses on an aspiring baker, Morgan Truly, and the magical ability she’s discovered that allows her to infuse her baking with feelings. If she feels sad while baking, anyone who eats it will feel sad. If she feels happy, her baking will make people feel happy. And if she bakes while feeling romantic…well, you can guess what happens to anyone who tries it. This new ability, along with finding new love, is confusing enough. But adding to Morgan’s life changes is caring for her mother, Karen Truly, who is suffering from Alzheimer’s.Morgan moved back home to help care for her mom, unwilling to put her in any kind of care facility. She hired an aide to help with Karen’s care, but Morgan still found herself caring for her mom in ways she never had to worry about before. At one point, Karen shatters a glass on the floor in anger, endangering her bare feet. In another scene, she tries to burn the house down. Later, she runs away.The theme of Alzheimer’s has found its way into more of my books than just this one. In my book, The Road to Hope, one of the main characters is suffering from the early stages of Alzheimer’s, experiencing bouts of forgetfulness. In the sequel book, Hope at the Crossroads, this character’s Alzheimer’s has advanced rapidly, and she is unable to remember anyone. In Come Here, Cupcake, Karen doesn’t recognize her own daughter, mistaking Morgan for a variety of different roles.

When certain themes show up in my writing, it’s usually because I’m working them out in my real life. Alzheimer’s is no exception. My grandmother had Alzheimer’s before she passed away in 2010. I remember the last time I saw her. She’d kept her eyes closed most of the visit, almost as if she were ignoring all of us. When my aunt announced who was there, she opened her eyes when she heard my name.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Our First National Caregiver Appreciation Month eBook Sale & Giveaway, November 15-21, 15 Great Titles

November is National Caregiver Appreciation Month, a time to recognize the long hours, sacrifice, and love all caregivers bring to the task of caring for a loved one with dementia or any long-term illness. In honor of their efforts, AlzAuthors is hosting an eBook sale and giveaway! This is a terrific way for caregivers who are looking for knowledge, guidance, and support to find carefully vetted books to help guide and inspire them everyday.

Consider this from the Alzheimer’s Association:

• In 2016, 15.9 million family and friends provided 18.2 billion hours of unpaid assistance to those with Alzheimer’s and other dementias, a contribution to the nation valued at $230.1 billion.
• Approximately two-thirds of caregivers are women, and 34 percent are age 65 or older.
• 41 percent of caregivers have a household income of $50,000 or less.
• Approximately one quarter of dementia caregivers are “sandwich generation” caregivers — meaning that they care not only for an aging parent, but also for children under age 18.

Starting today through November 21st, you can take advantage of this excellent opportunity to check out some of our books at reduced prices, ranging from free to $2.99. We offer a variety of genres, including fiction, memoir, non-fiction, and children’s literature. Many of our books are also available in paperback and audio, so be sure to check them out too.

Our books are written from a deep place of understanding, experience, knowledge, and love. May you find one – or two, or more! – to help guide you on your own dementia journey.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Ann Campanella's "The Beach Poems"

Expressing the Inexpressible through Poetry

By Ann Campanella

When I was in my early thirties, my mother began showing signs of Alzheimer’s. She was 41 when I was born, so I suppose it shouldn’t have been a shock to see her aging in this way. But it was.

I always knew she was an “older mom.” She had been a fount of wisdom for me during my adolescence and early years of marriage.

Mom always said her children kept her young. There was a span of ten years among us, and I had vivid memories of my mother hiking, playing tennis, swimming and sailing at the upstate New York lake we visited each summer.

My grandmother and great aunts lived into their nineties. I had imagined my mother would always be there for me, at least until she was well into her eighties. But it wasn’t to be.

My mother’s mind began to unspool at the same time I was trying to become a mother and struggling through a series of miscarriages. At first her memory became slippery and she began repeating stories. Her emotions seemed out of proportion to what was happening in her life. Her words no longer matched her behavior.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Gerda Saunders & "Memory's Last Breath"

By Gerda Saunders

A few days before my sixty-first birthday, I was diagnosed with cerebral microvascular disease, which is the leading cause of dementia after Alzheimer’s disease. My mother also had dementia.

My diagnosis was not a total surprise—for about five years I had a short-term memory loss that led to pots on the stove at home boiling dry, washing my hair twice in an hour, forgetting to bake a casserole I had made the night before. At work, it led to a slowness in my job as the associate director of the Gender Studies Program at the University of Utah, trouble remembering what I had prepared for class while teaching, embarrassments such as asking people in a meeting to introduce themselves when they had already done so.

Given my suspicions, my diagnosis came as a relief: I was not just being lax or not trying hard enough, or imagining things. The white spots on my MRI and 20-point drop in my IQ were very real. The diagnosis was also a wake-up call: how was I going to live with joy and engagement during the 15 years I probably had left? How was my family—husband Peter and children Marissa and Newton and their spouses—going to live with and care for me?

From the time my children were small, our family had talked about what each of us thought of as a worthwhile quality of life and how to consciously live during each of its stages. Questions arose: What does a worthwhile life look like for someone with dementia? What will be the markers for when my life no longer has the kind of quality I value? Will my family be prepared to support the legal assisted death I wish for when my life no longer meets my criteria for a meaningful life? Our family talked about end-of-life issues and how each one of us interpreted a worthwhile life. In my book I list some of my criteria for a worthwhile life and share how my children and their spouses have given me their support in my quest for a legal self-death, and how we formalized our arrangements with my doctors and a lawyer.

Completing my end-of-life plans was enormously comforting. I could get on with my life. I could participate in family activities, figure out how to get around after I gave up my driver’s license, enjoy reading (which includes a lot of re-reading, because I forget), working in my garden (many bruises attest to my lack of balance)—in other words, live joyfully each day. Might I even be able to fulfill my retirement goal of writing a book?

When I retired after my diagnosis, I started a journal to document my daily difficulties. With a wink at my bachelor’s in science, I called it Dementia Field Notes. I would be an anthropologist, following the life of one member of the tribe of Dementers—myself. My journal entries led to essays that tackled the questions: What, actually, is memory, personality, identity? What is a self? Will I still have a self when my reason is gone? How come I can’t make coffee without mishaps, but can still write? My essays became the chapters of Memory's Last Breath.

The purpose of my book is this: to add my personal story to the vast body of science about dementia accumulated by the lifetime efforts of neuroscientists, neuropsychologists, other medical researchers, and healthcare providers.

My book is for you, whether you pick it up because you or someone you love has dementia, or because you’re a medical professional, or a person searching for your own self after a huge life change, or someone just plain curious, who—like me—feels that the more you know, the better you love.