“That explains the Post-its in her cabin?”
“Yes. And you should be aware that, over time, should your mother develop dementia, her life will become more complicated. She will have difficulty performing tasks that used to come easily, she will get lost, she will have language issues, she will misplace items. She could have personality changes that lead to inappropriate behaviors.”
“She’s had that for a long time,” Arden said, trying to make a joke.
The doctor didn’t laugh, and Arden realized that her mouth was moving as she stared at the doctor’s face. She wasn’t able to hear all that she was saying, because Arden kept thinking, What do I do? I can’t move to Scoops.
Slowly, the doctor’s voice began to play in her ears again, as if the volume on a TV were being turned up.
“As the MCI worsens, symptoms are more obvious and interfere with the ability to take care of oneself, like dressing, eating. One forgets current events, as well as one’s own life history and awareness of who one is.”
Arden took a sharp breath. Suddenly, the image of her mother’s charm bracelet filled her head.
“Is there a…,” Arden began to ask.
“There is no cure,” Dr. Van Meter said, cutting Arden off in midsentence with a polite but definitive smile.
No cure.
Arden couldn’t feel anything, do anything more than stare at the doctor. She felt helpless.
“But there is hope,” the doctor said. “I know this is difficult, Ms. Lindsey. Your mother has done a good job of not letting people know for a long time. She’s made jokes, deflected attention. Like many people with MCI, it’s hard for them to ask for help. She didn’t want to burden you, or alter her life, but it’s getting more serious now.”
The doctor stopped and smiled reassuringly. “Ms. Lindsey, my hope is that—with the right diet, exercise, routine, mental stimulation, and ongoing care—she can have some normalcy in her life for a long while. But there will be good days and bad days. Right now, we need to focus on the good ones, okay?”
Arden smiled and nodded as the doctor continued to talk. Her heart broke.
“How much does my mother know?” Arden asked, still thinking about the doctor’s words: There is no cure.
“Just that she’s getting old and occasionally becomes confused,” Dr. Van Meter said. “We like to leave how to tell a loved one up to the family, unless, of course, you’d prefer we do it.”
In the distance, Lolly and Lauren had removed their shoes and stuck their feet into a fountain. They were threatening to splash each other.
What do I tell them? Arden thought.
Lolly’s laugh echoed up and through the office window to her daughter.
If I tell her the truth, will she spin into a depression? Or would I be doing her a disservice by hiding her condition?
“Sorry to interrupt, doctor. You asked that I meet Ms. Lindsey?”
A bearish rumble of a voice surprised Arden, and she opened her eyes, a large shadow now cast over her body.
She saw that it was actually a bear of a man—well over six feet tall, bearded, muscled, soulful brown eyes—standing in front of her.
“Ms. Lindsey,” Dr. Van Meter said, “this is Nurse Thomas. He’s a geriatric nurse here who also does home care. I think it would be beneficial if he came by to assess your mom at home and help you establish a good routine for her.”
Nurse Thomas smiled. “My first name is Jake, by the way. Not ‘Nurse.’”
Arden chuckled, and tucked her dark hair behind her ears.
“Well, I have your number and will give you a call tomorrow to set up a schedule, if that works for you,” Jake continued.
Arden nodded and tugged at her earlobe.
“Carol Burnett?” Jake asked, picking up on her nervous tic and mimicking the ear tug. “I love her, too.”
“Yes,” Arden said, flabbergasted.
“Everything’s going to be all right, by the way,” he said with a warm smile, giving his earlobe another tug in return. “Nice to meet you. See ya later.”
As Arden watched Jake lumber away, she felt an immediate connection to him. There was something comforting and safe about him, like being tucked into a blanket next to a fire in the middle of a snowstorm.
“Arden,” the doctor said, standing, signaling an end to their meeting, “all you can do right now is be patient with your mom. What you tell her is up to you. We usually think it’s best to be completely honest. Nurse Thomas will help you get your mother into a routine that will help her, and he will be available to help coordinate home care as well, things like meds, meals, physical therapy.”
Arden continued to nod, starting to feel overwhelmed.
“When you go home, make sure to talk about the past.”