July 5, 2024: Here, let me do that -

In December, I volunteered for an Alzheimer’s study at OHSU, where they are gathering data on aging, both in people with no diagnosis (yet, haha), and in those who have been diagnosed with dementia. All participants are over 65.

A bunch of my friends volunteered too. The study involves baseline tests in ten areas – verbal, memory, visual, spatial, organizational, and daily-life financial, bureaucratic, attention, and problem-solving skills.  

Participants are tested once, then a week later, and then a year after that. If you did better after a week, will you also do better after a year? If you did worse, will you do worse yet, a year later?

The comparison is only to one’s age mates. So I might decline in some ability, but if most of my age mates suffer that same decline, my score will stay the same. I could start the year being better than 57% of 68-year-olds, and if we all slip in parallel, then we all do worse than before, but I can STILL be better than 57% of 69-year-olds! GOALS.

My friends and I grasp the setup. None of us think we are superhuman. But we were good students, and got A’s, and some have been … mopey about not having baseline scores in the 90s, across the board.

Me, I scored fine, in nine of ten areas. But in Area Ten, I scored a 3.

Yes I did! NINETY-SEVEN out of 100 of my peers are better at Area Ten tasks than I am.

And I BUY that! I have been terrible at Area Ten tasks my whole life, as friends and family will attest.

Area Ten involves making sense of ambiguous visual information. For instance: give me a container to open that has no clear place to start. I might find it! Or I might, after a search, give up and tear open an edge, or take a knife to it.* Hand me one of those old can openers that looks like a helicopter. Watch me try to figure out how to use it. Put me in a sleek, modern hotel room, where the outlets and light switches and closets are all cleverly blended into the wallpaper, or recessed behind a panel or under the counter. I will call the front desk!

(Low point: I’m in a bathroom with a hitherto unseen model of toilet, and where English is not spoken. I cannot find a handle to flush the toilet. I cannot find a chain to pull, a button to push, or a sensor to set off. I run my hands over the tank (why is it way up there!?), over the pipes, over the toilet, over the walls, muttering, “It has to be here.” I never find it. Yes, I wash my hands.)

Sometimes, if I am left alone, I see the solution. But the number of times that friends and family say, “Here, give me that,” is very high. Also the times they reach around me and set a dial, press a button, open a latch.

People find me staring, waiting for the puzzle to reveal itself, and they ask what I’m trying to do, and if I need help. On a good day, I’ll accept with grace. On a testy day, I snap, JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE, OKAY?  

I did not pout over score of THREE. I laughed in delight. Maybe I was giddy, but I felt seen: it's not  about Alzheimer’s. It’s a lifelong deficit, and I’ve managed, thank you very much.

Today, a neighbor came over to report back on how she and her wife had done on the initial tests. She had been above average in all categories (but not as high as she would have wanted to be, etc.); her wife had been fine in most areas but got a score of 1 in one verbal category. They had gone to the doctor, who was unworried, but they were still a bit flapped.

I doubt I was any help, because again, I laughed. She scored a ONE!! Oh my gosh, I have a sister!!

I asked if maybe the wife, like me, had always just been BAD at that one skill, and had managed nonetheless. The neighbor allowed as to how that might well be so. I hope it is.

The wife and I can’t decline too far over this year, unless there are negative numbers available. In fact, if we just hold still, we might passively gain a few percentage points! Other people could decline with age or illness, moving the curve down to us! Who knows?

On the other hand, our upside potential is very high.  I am actually working on ways to bring my 3 up. I’m aiming for a 5 next time. Wish me luck.

(* Rocks work. Ice picks. There is a reason our family jokes about the phrase, “Man is a tool-using animal.”)