Non-Medical

Kramer Wetzel

Non-Medical

Part of my extended Austin family, I was listening to a resident (medical doc) enumerate the casual signs and levels of dementia, hint: this is not a medical diagnosis. The questions were around cognition, and several family members insisted that there were no signs whatsoever of failing, or merely crumbling mental machinations.

  1. Food.
    Can the person in question go to the grocery store and secure food for a steady and healthy diet? Can you feed yourself?
  2. Finances.
    Can the person look after simple checkbook material to insure that the bills are paid in a timely fashion, and know no one is donating a lion’s share of retirement to a prince in Africa?
  3. Rent.
    Can the person make sure to pay rent, mortgage, taxes on time? Think that goes back to basic financial security, but is there shelter? A roof over one’s head?

These were three, off-the-cuff guidelines from a resident, and I’m not even sure other than the name was preceded by “Dr.”

I’m no expert, and I’ve watched, as a partially impartial observer, just off to one side, as there’s been significant cognitive decline, but moments of clarity, too. So that’s what happens.

Non-Medical

It’s not a complete diagnosis, and it is my extended Austin family, so I’m not sure how this applies. As guidelines, though, there’s something in those three guidelines.

Think there was a fourth piece of the dementia quotient, too, about getting dressed, getting cleaned up, and basic hygiene. I don’t recall, and I was only listening with questions pertaining to immediate family, not the idea that I should be taking notes, and plus? The doctor herself assured us this was a simple guideline, not rote rules for medical diagnostics — non-medical guidelines.

Part of the problem, and what the doctor was trying to address, I suspect, was the family’s interaction and perception of what was happening as mental processes, along with bodily functions, all began to shut down.

“I’m tired and it hurts.”

Roll over and go back to sleep.

Non-Medical

As a patient observer of humanity, I’ve seen this before in varying degrees, and as that selfsame patient observer of humanity, the slow yet marked decline is obvious.

Too close and one misses it.

Yet, as a significant part of the population ages, looking around at my co-workers and friends, neighbors, I notice that there is a minor amount of slippage.

I keep notes.

Helps me.