I do not know if I have it in me to see the movie Still Alice, in which Julianne Moore plays a woman with early-onset Alzheimers. Not that there is any Alzheimers anywhere in my family, for what it’s worth, but I have seen it, still see it on a daily basis and it’s depressing beyond words. I read a review today in The Guardian and part of it brings home the sheer horror of the disease. The reviewer, Peter Bradshaw writes,’The terrible diagnosis arrives, and I defy any audience in the world not to strain frantically to complete the memory test that a doctor gives Alice in one heartwrenching scene.’ You see what I mean?
I cannot imagine there is a happy ending to this film since there is no possibility of one, given that it’s incurable. Once afflicted, it’s life-changing in every bad way possible. Early in the movie, we get a hint of Alice’s dementia when she can’t remember the word ‘lexicon’ whilst giving a lecture and it all goes downhill from there.
Sir Ian Botham bravely revealed last year that he no longer visited his father, Les Botham, when he was in the latter stages of the disease because it just chewed him up. “Don’t judge unless you’ve been through it,” said Sir Ian. His mother carried on visiting, even though he had no idea who she was. Les was a very fit man before the disease took hold and this prolonged his empty life, to the detriment of everyone in the family.
And I am a huge fan of the singer Glen Campbell. Several years ago, Campbell was diagnosed with Alzheimers and carried out a farewell world tour before it overwhelmed him. His voice and astounding guitar playing remained intact, but there were clear signs that it was getting a grip. He needed monitors to remind him of the words to his own songs and he would sometimes restart a song that he had just finished, or forget what was coming next. I bottled out of going to see him in Bristol because I feared it might be an awful experience. There are seven stages to Alzheimers and Campbell is now in the seventh and final stage. This is what the seventh stage is like:
In the final stage of this disease, individuals lose the ability to respond to their environment, to carry on a conversation and, eventually, to control movement. They may still say words or phrases.
At this stage, individuals need help with much of their daily personal care, including eating or using the toilet. They may also lose the ability to smile, to sit without support and to hold their heads up. Reflexes become abnormal. Muscles grow rigid. Swallowing impaired.
Is this really life at all? I know some religious folk cannot under any circumstances countenance assisted death, but then again, it’s none of their business. What was the God character thinking about allowing so many people to suffer horribly? Perhaps he was too busy being omnipresent and omnipotent all at the same time? If they choose to suffer in old age or merely exist within a body that no longer functions with a brain that doesn’t work, well, that’s up to them. I wouldn’t want to, thank you very much. If we have a sick pet who has no quality of life and no hope of recovery, then the question of keeping them alive is a simple one. We love the pet and we do not want it to suffer, we take it to the vet and the vet performs a simple injection to end the misery. I do not think it is a philosophical argument at all and it’s certainly not a religious one and I don’t think it’s the government’s business either. Yes, have safeguards in law to protect people from abuse and exploitation but let’s be sensible.
Sir Ian Botham was right. “Don’t judge until you’ve been through it.” How many of you would prefer a living will that gave clear instructions to allow someone to let you slip away if you were ravaged by Alzheimers?
