By: Iman Waqas
People depict death to be the epitome of an abysmal end, for someone, who still isn’t ready to depart from loved ones. But what if miraculously you get to be with them, yet with no recollection of your times together. They become a distant memory in your mind, that slips through the fingers like water, whenever you try to grasp onto it. Medically, the name of this illness is Alzheimer's.
Working in an Alzheimer’s clinic, I had seen so many people fall victim to this ruthless disease. The desperation and infuriation on the patients' faces’; as they tried to claw at the fog in their minds, frustratingly struggling to fill in, the gaps created in their memories, and the anguished helpless cries from their families, as they were met with vacant stares from their dear ones, are burned in my mind forever. However, never had I once foreseen, that one day this nightmarish reality would be something, I had to face. A week ago, my grandmother was diagnosed with stage five Alzheimer's. Her condition was found to be so critical, that she needed to be shifted to the hospital for immediate treatment. The signs although present for a while, like the way she would sometimes refer to us all by wrong names, lose track of her belongings and forget entire months and seasons, hadn’t been deliberately ignored, just assessed to be a side effect of her old age. Everyone was aghast when her peculiar behavior was diagnosed as an actual illness. A great deal of self-blame, accusations to take accountability for not paying close enough attention to her deteriorating state and despair over her current situation was thrown around, but in the end, the truth remained, a devastating calamity had befallen her, and we all were now forced to witness the consequences of it.
After her diagnosis, I spent the entire week in a daze. It seemed almost incomprehensible that such a thing could transpire to a strong and independent woman like her. She had always been the caretaker in the family, assuring everyone’s needs were being met, so watching her being subjected to this kind of cruelty by fate, was too much to bear. When my shift was over, I went to visit her. We weren’t allowed to meet her personally since she showed an aggressive tendency towards strangers, therefore I could only stare at her through a window. She watched me with utmost curiosity, trying to place me in her memory, unbeknownst of the sorrow swirling inside me. Her soulless gaze, tore at my heart, as grief poured from my eyes, seeing the angst and vexation barring her face. I placed my palm against the window hoping she would do the same. I would do anything, just to see a brief flash of recognition in her eyes, to give me hope that there was still a war left to fight for. She, who was once the living embodiment of dynamism, vivacity, and vitality, now lay on a bed, dependent on those around her, reduced to a shell of the magnificent person she’d once been. This entire ordeal made me realize that you aren’t entitled to be stuck forever in your given identity, because when fate plays its hand, the navigator can feel lost, the fighter can yield his sword and the brave can feel frightened too. Furthermore, you should always keep a check on your loved ones and not self-diagnose any oddity in their usual behavior, instead if there are suspicious symptoms, get them checked before it’s too late.
(image from here.)
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