Progression of My Mother’s Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease in Photos
After watching Still Alice with my husband, I wanted to see the progression of my mother’s early onset Alzheimer’s disease in photos. I looked through photos of my mom from old blog posts. I put them in chronological order to create a visual timeline of her decline.
People who stopped visiting her during her illness told me they didn’t want to remember her this way or that she didn’t interact with them anymore. Well, I didn’t have a choice. She was my mom, and I was responsible for her care and safety.
I remember her like this. I remember the heartache. I remember losing her in slow motion.
And I want people to see the reality of this disease–how a brilliant and creative teacher and nurturer (yes, I remember her that way, too) becomes like an infant, completely dependent on others for care, completely unable to communicate with the words she held so dear.
It may seem, in looking at the following photos, that my mother declined very quickly, and there were certainly time periods of rapid decline. Yet, the decline seems less rapid when you consider that she was already in the moderate stages of the disease by the time she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2006, immediately after I graduated from college.
Progression of my mother’s early onset Alzheimer’s disease in photos
6 months after my mother’s diagnosis with Alzheimer’s disease
A year later on my mom’s last vacation
My wedding festivities (the end of her really knowing who I was)
Placement in a secure wing in a long-term care facility
*I couldn’t find any pictures from 2009, which probably means I didn’t take any. I frequently took my black Lab with me, and we spent a lot of time in the fenced courtyard during our visits. She always thought he was her black Lab mix, Rocket, and she consistently called me “Linda” (not sure if she was thinking of her cousin, Linda, or her childhood friend, Linda) that year.*
Constant, frantic motion, falling all the time (see scar on forehead)
Only saying simple words like “thank you” and “yes” and no longer getting out of bed without assistance (except for rolling out of it in the middle of the night)
Placement on hospice care with trouble swallowing (and using a special, high-backed wheelchair)
Asleep more often than awake in end stages (and using a geriatric chair because of severe leaning and muscle stiffness)
3 months before she died
And she was beautiful to the end.
A version of this post was originally published May 21, 2015.
Thank you so much for doing this. It is good to actually see the progression. The last Mother’s Day picture is so beautiful of all of you. I’m sure you will treasure it forever. I was wondering if you would be seeing Still Alice or not.
Thank you, Jean, for all of the times you visited my mom in San Marcos! You were a sweet cousin to her.
my mom died recently from complications of Parkinson’s with dementia. It was a cruel journey for both of us, one I remember and carry it with me everyday. Thank you for sharing
Thank you, Leisha. I am so sorry about your mom. Dementia is a cruel journey indeed.
I worked for KEYE and I’m SOOOOOO glad they aired your story. I hope this gets you tons of press and you are able to keep hope alive for so many people struggling right now due to either illness or tragedy from the recent storms/flooding!
KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK!!! You are an inspiration to many!
Jennifer
Lauren,
I just read about the shirt you designed to benefit flood victims in the San Marcos Daily Record and saw the picture of you and your mom. We were good friends with your mom and dad in Round Rock where your mom and my husband, John, both taught. Your mom was so full of life — always happy and such a joy to share time with. We kept up over the years and, I believe, we all went to Aquarena Springs together when you, your brother, and our children were younger. We had lost touch and I had no idea about your mom’s illness. What a terrible loss. It is easy to see the legacy she has left. I will pray for you and hope to meet you someday.