Almanac Life: A quiet fade – a friend’s quiet battle with dementia and how exercise can help

 

 

 

For nearly three decades teaching university students, Bill (not his real name), by all counts, was a highly respected presence in the classroom. He was a lecturer who was always ready and willing to assist a struggling student; particularly those with learning difficulties.

 

I have been with Bill when former students have recognised and approached him warmly like a long lost mate. Similarly, I have been with him when former colleagues have engaged warmly with him and to talk about the old days.

 

Clearly, Bill was held in high esteem for his passion, care and commitment to his profession and the students that he taught.

 

The changes crept in almost unnoticed. At first, they were the sort of lapses Bill and I laughed about. Mishaps on his laptop causing embarrassing errors, a moment of uncertainty here and there. Forgetting where he left his keys. As he described it to me, it was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary at first. But slowly however, the lapses gained weight. At his university, he explained how he would sometimes forget which lecture theatre he was due to be in. He also occasionally repeated instructions he had already given and with friends told the same story several times. He told me that once he walked into the wrong faculty building entirely, confused as to why he was there.

 

At first Bill brushed these moments aside with a shrug and his standard witty comments. I used to say jokingly to him that we all forget things, don’t we? But as time passed, along with some others, I felt a bit uneasy because the change was becoming more noticeable. The Head of Faculty at his university, concerned for Bill and his students, gently raised the matter over an arranged lunch meeting. It was not easy for Bill to hear. After all, here was a man whose career had been built on teaching. Teaching with purpose and a strong sense of order. What’s more, his job gave him great satisfaction and a sense of worth, and he loved it. So, when the university let him go, he was initially devastated and acceptance took some time.

 

I know how he felt because he told me. I was one of the first to know. I found it tough too. Here was a man who had spent a lifetime in command of his thoughts now being told that something was slipping out of his reach. ‘Al,’ he said, ‘I never saw this coming.’

 

After a time, medical consultations followed. With them came the diagnosis that none of us ever want to hear: early onset dementia. The news hit Bill like the proverbial sledge hammer. The condition that had been quietly stealing moments from his memory now had a name.

 

Knowing others who have contracted the condition, I realise that one of the cruel aspects of dementia it its gradual nature. It’s something that doesn’t arrive with great fanfare. It hides behind what is usually familiar to us: a misplaced set of keys, book or cup of coffee, a forgotten word, someone’s face, forgotten appointments so on and so forth. For many it is usually family or friends or employers that first notice the changes. While his family and friends were noticing the differences, for Bill it was really the latter that provided the real window for him.

 

The specialists who assessed and now treat Bill, told him recently that while there is no cure for dementia, its progression can sometimes be slowed through exercise. He was told that one of the most powerful tools in this regard is regular physical activity such as gym classes, walking, swimming, light weight training and the like.  Essentially, a combination of regular aerobic and functional/mobility exercise.

 

Bill has always engaged in regular walking but, as I think for all those that only walk for exercise, it needs to be complemented with added functional and strength extras such as weight or some sort of resistance training for our other body areas and to keep our blood and bones healthy. I couldn’t get Bill interested in any of the exercise routines I engaged in (e.g. CrossFit, Pickleball).  I often wondered if this was because he was afraid he might forget rules or the simple process of ‘how to do’, so I didn’t push it. In his day Bill had been a very good tennis player, a senior footballer and A grade cricketer. He had also been a player and coach at country and regional level, so in his day he was no slouch. We just had to get him going again.

 

I have read several UK and USA studies (online searches) that discuss research results showing a combination of light, some moderate and some high-intensity interval exercise/training (HIIT) exercise can help us think, learn, problem solve, and enjoy better mental health. It can also improve memory and reduce anxiety and depression. So, while most people may consider memory loss a part of just getting older, we do have some tools in our toolbox such as exercise. Meaning, we are not powerless when it comes to losing our memory, we can help ourselves by building a regular exercise regime into our daily lives. Not Einstein stuff for many of us but hard for some people to motivate themselves to do it.  I have many friends in this category.

 

Following his medical specialist advice, and at his request, I recently helped Bill join a local gym. He is now on a monitored gym program set up with the help of an Occupational Therapist.

 

So, Bill has begun a new routine. As well as continuing his daily walks, he attends the local gym two or three times a week. The environment of course, is a far cry from the lecture theatres and tutorial classes he once supervised but now he’s becoming used to it. He seems to be approaching it with the similar resilience of mindset he employed in his academic and early sporting years. He says he is feeling the better for it.

 

Bill’s wife commented to me recently that while she knows his condition cannot be wished away, his adaption to an exercise regime is inspiring for her.  She said that Bill seems now to be facing his dilemma not with depressive resignation, which worried her, but with action. Early on she was concerned about Bill’s desire to accept the challenge of doing what he can, in the time he may have, to enjoy and live each day with as much dignity as possible.  She hopes he keeps it up and will obviously continue to provide encouragement. She is also happy that nowadays Bill willingly engages with others about his condition. In fact, in his typical way, talks about it with humour.

 

For those of us who know him as a friend and colleague, Bill’s journey is a reminder of how fragile memory can be. To lose it even in small bits is, sadly, to confront a slow unravelling of identity.

 

We are variously informed that early dementia is not only a medical condition; it is very much a human story, lived in homes and our communities every day. Bill’s story is but one among many, but it carries lessons for us all. We can all play a part in helping a friend or someone else close to us by noticing, by supporting and encouraging simple steps like Bill’s exercise program, that may assist. By doing this, we can help affirm the dignity of those whose memories may be faltering. I will continue to be a support for Bill (and his wife) as he progresses along his journey. That’s what good friends are for after all.

 

For me, Bill’s journey is one that I have witnessed with several others I’ve known over the years. As I write, I have another close friend going through what Bill is experiencing and another whose wife is similarly in the same position. What this has brought home to me is that while memory is precious, it doesn’t define the whole person. Bill will always be Bill, even if parts of his memory will continue to fade over time. I just hope that he can keep up his good humour and exercise regime and that his medical advisers and the research studies are right when they advise that exercise can help.

 

Sadly, dementia does not give anything back for all that it takes. Bill knows this. He carries on as if he doesn’t have a care in the world which of course, is very positive. He says he’s determined to get on with life rather than turn away from it. Facing his dilemma in the way he is now doing, shows me that while his memory will continue to falter, very slowly one hopes, his spirit doesn’t have to. We still enjoy our political and philosophical banter and sports conversations. Unfortunately, he is a ‘dyed in the wool’ Collingwood fan but at least that makes for quite vibrant conversation at times!

 

Not sure it’s exactly relevant to this piece, but for some reason, as I write, I feel a need to paraphrase the great Tom Hafey’s advice to me on a tram to St Kilda some years ago. Tom said words to the effect that we must keep moving, and we must keep the body and mind active by moving. Age doesn’t matter. We can’t all do the same things, exercise the same way, or play the same sport with similar intensity, but most of us can keep moving.

 

I have always liked Clint Eastwood’s attitude to life. When directing the movie Mule, Eastwood said: “I don’t let the old man in. I keep myself busy. You have to stay active, alive, happy, strong, capable.’

 

That’s it. I have finished this piece on a late Saturday afternoon. Time now to be off to imbibe a nice schooner of lager with Bill at our local. Hoping we can do this for a lot more years to come.

 

 

To read more by Allan Barden click here.

 

 

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