In the latest blog by an AFA Teens Advisory Board member, hear why Megan Parsons thinks information about Alzheimer's disease is relevant to her generation.
According to John Locke, humans are born a moral blank slate – a tabula rasa. Sensory experiences differentiate us after birth, and mold us into who we are as adults.
I think the idea of a tabula rasa is interesting, but perhaps not entirely correct.
We interact with our environment in a reciprocal relationship: we change our environment through our actions, and our environment acts to physically alter us. But what does this mean? The first statement is rather obvious; our decisions have consequences on our environment, relationships, and other people’s perceptions of their own environment. The second statement, that our environment acts on us physically, has definite scientific underpinnings. Circumstance is able to alter the manifestation of our very DNA – altering gene expression throughout our lifetime – and causes our very person, body and mind, to reflect our experiences.
With current advancements in medicine, the average human life expectancy is increasing. (The U.S. Census Bureau projects that 241,000 Americans will be centenarians by 2020.) Because a primary risk factor of Alzheimer’s disease is age, the prevalence of the disease will increase as life expectancy increases. As teenagers living in the 21st century, we may face challenges reminding us that Alzheimer’s disease is a rising epidemic.
When a grandparent is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, we are often deeply affected, as we’ve seen with Chris in the previous entry. It’s a frightening diagnosis, and many teens find themselves left with many questions, including, “Is my parent next?” For some people, it’s a reality rooted in our DNA; a few genes may boost susceptibility, but having these genes does not mean that a person will definitely develop the disease. It is only natural that we begin wondering about our own futures.
There are however, lifestyle choices that we can be made starting at any age, which can promote successful aging and overall good health. Exercising regularly to improve cardiovascular health, eating plenty of fruits and vegetables (and getting those omega-3s!), and maintaining a socially active lifestyle, may contribute to better cognitive performance throughout life and may reduce our risk of Alzheimer’s disease. Oh, and maybe have a cup of coffee with that morning crossword puzzle. Doing a bit of research and instituting some lifestyle changes now may make a world of difference later.
Given our family histories, many of us may wish for nothing more than a tabula rasa. But research shows that taking steps towards a healthier lifestyle—even as a teenager—is one of the best things you can do for your body and your brain, and research for treatments is ongoing.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
AFA Teens has invited its teen advisory board members to share their own experiences through the AFA Teens Blog. Our hope is that other teens gain a new perspective on what it’s like living with a relative with Alzheimer’s disease and/or raising awareness of the brain disorder in their communities. Here, Chris Schloss shares his thoughts. Please take a look at what Chris has to say and, as always, we encourage you to comment.
"When I was eight years old, my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. At the time, I didn’t know what Alzheimer’s disease was. I just noticed the way my grandmother acted, and it wasn’t the same. I thought it was kind of comical; I don’t remember anyone telling me there was something wrong. As I got older, I noticed things were different.
I would go to my grandmother’s apartment when I was little. She was the nicest person, and she loved doing things for me. It made her so happy to give her eight-year-old grandson a cookie, and I always took the offer. She wouldn’t ask just a single time, but continuously, forgetting that I had already eaten five cookies. I thought it was funny, but I didn’t know that she wasn’t kidding.
Things weren’t bad at first; this was just the start. We would go to her apartment after church, and she would ask my sisters and me the same question: “Who said the Mass today?” We thought it was funny, and we would smile. Then one of us would give her an answer, and she would ask the same question a few minutes later.
As I got older, the disease progressed. She rarely left her apartment, but she came to my house for the last time on Easter when I was in the 8th grade. I had just registered for high school, and I was wearing a shirt for my soon-to-be school. She asked me if that was the school I was attending, and she did this five times in five minutes. I no longer found any amusement in her actions, and I went into my room and put on a plain white T-shirt. This brought no attention, and I was starting to understand what was wrong.
I would visit her apartment, and she would always wish that she had a cookie for me because she no longer went to the grocery store. I would always smile and say that I was fine. She would ask who did my teeth. It was then that I knew things would probably never get better— her son, my dad, is a dentist. She forgot my sisters’ and my name, and she did this with many other things.
When I would go to her apartment with my family, she would talk to us, though many times we didn’t make much progress. She would get confused and talk about things irrelevant to the subject. By the end, we would go to her apartment and just sit with her, talking at a minimum. I knew she liked to be with me, so I made the most of my visits. She loved my family’s presence, and this was one of her favorite things. My grandmother passed away last September.
How do you explain Alzheimer’s disease to an eight-year-old? How do you explain it to any child? It’s hard to understand the disease at any age, and it is always hard to watch your beloved forget who you are."
"When I was eight years old, my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. At the time, I didn’t know what Alzheimer’s disease was. I just noticed the way my grandmother acted, and it wasn’t the same. I thought it was kind of comical; I don’t remember anyone telling me there was something wrong. As I got older, I noticed things were different.
I would go to my grandmother’s apartment when I was little. She was the nicest person, and she loved doing things for me. It made her so happy to give her eight-year-old grandson a cookie, and I always took the offer. She wouldn’t ask just a single time, but continuously, forgetting that I had already eaten five cookies. I thought it was funny, but I didn’t know that she wasn’t kidding.
Things weren’t bad at first; this was just the start. We would go to her apartment after church, and she would ask my sisters and me the same question: “Who said the Mass today?” We thought it was funny, and we would smile. Then one of us would give her an answer, and she would ask the same question a few minutes later.
As I got older, the disease progressed. She rarely left her apartment, but she came to my house for the last time on Easter when I was in the 8th grade. I had just registered for high school, and I was wearing a shirt for my soon-to-be school. She asked me if that was the school I was attending, and she did this five times in five minutes. I no longer found any amusement in her actions, and I went into my room and put on a plain white T-shirt. This brought no attention, and I was starting to understand what was wrong.
I would visit her apartment, and she would always wish that she had a cookie for me because she no longer went to the grocery store. I would always smile and say that I was fine. She would ask who did my teeth. It was then that I knew things would probably never get better— her son, my dad, is a dentist. She forgot my sisters’ and my name, and she did this with many other things.
When I would go to her apartment with my family, she would talk to us, though many times we didn’t make much progress. She would get confused and talk about things irrelevant to the subject. By the end, we would go to her apartment and just sit with her, talking at a minimum. I knew she liked to be with me, so I made the most of my visits. She loved my family’s presence, and this was one of her favorite things. My grandmother passed away last September.
How do you explain Alzheimer’s disease to an eight-year-old? How do you explain it to any child? It’s hard to understand the disease at any age, and it is always hard to watch your beloved forget who you are."
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Power of Purpose
We quickly move from graduation to graduation with big goals in mind. Do well on the SATs, get accepted to our top college, complete a major, qualify for an internship, and find a job. These goals motivate us to succeed and inspire us to do better, learn more, and work hard with each passing day. But zoom ahead three years following college graduation, well into your career and you find yourself in my position. My passion for my work has always been insurmountable, but when I went home each day to my apartment I lacked any definite goals in my personal life--a goal that would have me jumping out of bed early mornings on weekends and motivate me to push myself to succeed in some yet undefined way.
Then, one day early last November, the sixth month of my slump from running, I awoke early and walked through my neighborhood to observe runners participating in the New York City marathon. Watching the many runners among them running for a cause, a lost loved one, or a personal goal to restore their health, inspired me to take the next step in a sport that for me was losing its attraction. I found out that I could run 10 races in 2010 and qualify for a marathon in 2011, and it was in knowing this that I was able to step up my running, set short and long-term goals, and rediscover my love for something that has always given me confidence and perspective.
When I recently read a study in the Archives of General Psychiatry about purpose, I was able to gain insight on what I had discovered last November. According to the study, older adults with a strong sense of purpose were less likely to develop Alzheimer’s disease or mild cognitive impairment. I reflected on my own search for purpose and at once realized the challenge of continuing to find something that drives you each day—from post-college through years after retiring. I admired the seniors who continued to draw upon inspiration from a hobby that both challenges them and improves their well-being.
It seemed to make so much sense to me. I realized that having a purpose is so deeply connected to many of the things recommended by doctors to improve cognitive health, such as diet, exercise and socialization. If someone enjoys dancing, they are likely up on their feet and interacting with others. If someone enjoys cooking, they will often eat freshly prepared foods and take time with friends and family. My own purpose has led me to eat healthier, exercise more and run socially.
What always seems to be the common factor among research is that regardless of your age, it is important to keep finding something that motivates and drives you. We continue to admire our teen advocates who find a variety of ways to honor loved ones and give back to the Alzheimer’s community, whether through research, volunteering, holding awareness-raising rallies at their school, or being there for loved ones in a time of need, with such a strong sense of passion and devotion.
While no research is definitive, I feel confident that with finding a sense of purpose I have given great meaning to each day, and as I complete personal milestones, I feel prepared to overcome each new obstacle.
- Jessie McHeffey, AFA Teens Coordinator, Alzheimer's Foundation of America
Then, one day early last November, the sixth month of my slump from running, I awoke early and walked through my neighborhood to observe runners participating in the New York City marathon. Watching the many runners among them running for a cause, a lost loved one, or a personal goal to restore their health, inspired me to take the next step in a sport that for me was losing its attraction. I found out that I could run 10 races in 2010 and qualify for a marathon in 2011, and it was in knowing this that I was able to step up my running, set short and long-term goals, and rediscover my love for something that has always given me confidence and perspective.
When I recently read a study in the Archives of General Psychiatry about purpose, I was able to gain insight on what I had discovered last November. According to the study, older adults with a strong sense of purpose were less likely to develop Alzheimer’s disease or mild cognitive impairment. I reflected on my own search for purpose and at once realized the challenge of continuing to find something that drives you each day—from post-college through years after retiring. I admired the seniors who continued to draw upon inspiration from a hobby that both challenges them and improves their well-being.
It seemed to make so much sense to me. I realized that having a purpose is so deeply connected to many of the things recommended by doctors to improve cognitive health, such as diet, exercise and socialization. If someone enjoys dancing, they are likely up on their feet and interacting with others. If someone enjoys cooking, they will often eat freshly prepared foods and take time with friends and family. My own purpose has led me to eat healthier, exercise more and run socially.
What always seems to be the common factor among research is that regardless of your age, it is important to keep finding something that motivates and drives you. We continue to admire our teen advocates who find a variety of ways to honor loved ones and give back to the Alzheimer’s community, whether through research, volunteering, holding awareness-raising rallies at their school, or being there for loved ones in a time of need, with such a strong sense of passion and devotion.
While no research is definitive, I feel confident that with finding a sense of purpose I have given great meaning to each day, and as I complete personal milestones, I feel prepared to overcome each new obstacle.
- Jessie McHeffey, AFA Teens Coordinator, Alzheimer's Foundation of America
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