Back in October, I wrote about Dr. Rebecca Chopp who was writing a book on her experience with an Alzheimer's diagnosis. I had stumbled on an interview with her on NPR, and it was evident that she had made some lifestyle changes and was at least enjoying some relief from her descent into dementia. Her book was not yet out, but I did write to Dr. Chopp to remark on the similarities of our stories. She replied enthusiastically, noting that she had read Beating the Dementia Monster, and was encouraged by my story.
Her book was published in May, and I have now read it. It was very much worth my time. It begins with her initial diagnosis and, like me, a prediction of only a few years to live. Unlike me, her first diagnosing neurologist had a terrible "bedside manner" and offered no hope. At least my physicians were sympathetic and suggested lifestyle changes, although none of them said the changes would actually do much good.
In Dr. Chopp's case, she found medical help that steered her to the necessary changes, and she tells about how all of that went for her. Not surprisingly, the necessary changes mirrored the Dementia Toolkit of Beating the Dementia Monster. At the end, she comments on her last visit with her neurologist, five years after her diagnosis, who said her symptoms had not progressed very much, and her prognosis was better than she ever thought it could be. I am not surprised.
The book ends quite beautifully with a poem, the lyrics to a song, written for her by Murray Decock. Decock is both a composer and academic. If you finish the book, you should definitely go to the YouTube video performance of the song. It is quite moving and does a masterful job of concluding Dr. Chopp's story.
While Dr. Chopp's book tells a similar story to mine, it's really quite different. Both of us wanted to convey hope with what we wrote, but we are different people, and we are writing to different audiences. She is a woman of letters, having presided as president and provost over several universities. I am an engineer and a student of both physics and biology. Her book is a memoir that focuses much more on her personal experience, while mine delves into the science about why we would both get better if we did certain things.
My sense is that Dr. Chopp's story will appeal primarily to her peers in the arts and the academy. And that's good. I am the oldest of nine children, several of whom are faculty in first tier universities. Other family graduated from first tier universities. Amy and I live in walking distance to both a major national laboratory and a branch campus of Washington State University. So my family and our neighborhood are populated by people who would appreciate her story.
On the other hand, the friends that I trust most have a bachelor's degree in engineering or they never attended college at all. When I wrote, these were the people I most hoped would read my book and benefit from it.
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