Early onset Alzheimer's

( stopped doing - the first of several red flags )

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Helen Thomson-Patterson and her partner Ron Patterson met after their spouses were diagnosed with Alzheimer s disease and later died. This is the first in a five-part series about the families of those living with Alzheimer's disease.

WOODSTOCK-- It's an unlikely friendship, cemented with plenty of laughter and tears.

Three Woodstock friends, drawn together by the devastating effects of early onset Alzheimer's disease, came together in early September to recount the diagnosis that changed the course of their lives. Instead of spending their early retirement years travelling and indulging in favourite hobbies, Helen Thomson-Patterson, Ron Patterson, who would eventually marry Helen, and friend George Kent spent it caring for their spouses. "We were all through this journey together, just at different stages," Thomson-Patterson said. She and her husband, Reg Thomson, were on sabbatical when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease at age 56. "He was having difficulty remembering; he became very quiet," Thomson-Patterson described. Reg was a veterinary pathologist and the founder of the Atlantic Veterinary College in Charlottetown, P.E.I. She recalls how at different functions her husband would regularly escort Thomson-Patterson around to introduce her to different people. "He stopped doing that," she said of the first of several red flags. Reg rarely spoke while battling Alzheimer's disease. She thinks it was mainly so he didn't embarrass her. "That why he stopped talking. He said he couldn't remember names,'" she said.

Thomson also found himself experiencing problems finishing the manuscript for his third book. "He was really distressed," Thomson-Patterson said. "He just couldn't do it." In Charlottetown, they would go for long walks on Cavendish Beach. Thomson-Patterson would watch as he filled his shorts with rocks, sometimes so many he could hardly walk.

The couple, both born and raised in Woodstock, met while attending WCI and married in 1958. After Thomson's diagnosis, they returned to their birthplace, where life became very quiet and their social life "was kind of nil." It was during this time Thomson-Patterson joined a support group at the Alzheimer Society of Oxford and met the group of friends that helped her navigate this difficult period in her life. "We were really buddies," she said of the relationship between the three of them. "We have had a laot of laughs and a lot of tears." It surprised her how her new friends helped her with even the simplest of tasks, like how to tie a tie for her husband on the odd occasion he needed one. "Because you're so stressed out, it's hard to see simple solutions," she said. Their support helped immensely during the times she felt most alone. "The only rest I had was when he went to bed," Thomson-Patterson said of caring for her husband. "I used to go out in the car and scream."

Despite the confusion that engulfed her first husband's mind, there were occasional moments of clarity, when he'd look at her with tears in his eyes. "It was almost more painful than not having it," she said. But eventually he became more aggressive and she began to feel unsafe. "He never hit me but it came close to that," she said. A turning point came the day her husband fell down the stairs. Bleeding, he obviously needed care. "He wouldn't let me near him," she said. Thomson died in 2002, after spending six-and-a-half-years in Woodingford Lodge. "I was there every night," she said. "I went up and fed him at 5 p.m. and wheeled him out." When he finally died, Thom-sonPatterson experienced a combination of "grief and relief." "He was finally out of his prison," she said. But Thomson-Patterson's worries are not over.

Her three daughters are susceptible to the disease, which has a genetic component. "One of my daughters is going to get it," she said. "I have pain knowing what my daughter will be going through." Patterson, now Thomson-Patterson's husband, said his wife Anna's memory problems were hard to detect at first. As a switchboard operator at Woodstock General Hospital, she eventually could not cover it up. "If she had to call a code, it overwhelmed her," he said.

She was diagnosed in 1989 at age 56. Patterson already knew far more than he should about the disease -- his grandmother, mother, aunt, uncle and a brother and sister had all died from Alzheimer's. Ironically, he has escaped a diagnosis, even though his first wife did not. It's a frustrating circumstance for Patterson, who watched his wife lose interest in reading, television and even cooking after a plate exploded on the stove. "It happened so fast; it was very hard to face," he said. "It makes me feel like they should be doing more research to come up with a cure." To escape the stress, Patterson would get up at 4 a.m. to putter in his workshop until Anna woke up.

Everyday she became more childlike. She called herself Anna Banana -- a pet name her father had called her as a child -- and repeated childhood rhymes. "In a way, she regressed back to childhood," he said. Married in 2004, Thomson-Patterson and her second husband describe their life together as "a bit of an adjustment." "When you're older, you're set in your ways," Thomson-Patterson said. Thomson-Patterson said now she has new health worries about her second husband, who has had two heart bypasses.

George Kent's wife, Florence, was diagnosed in 1987 at age 54 with early onset Alzheimer's disease, but he suspected she had had it for years. Originally from Ingersoll, the couple migrated to Woodstock to be closer to their new doctor and the Alzheimer Society. Slowly, the disease took its toll. "She became very confused, even about operating a stove," he said. "I think the worst of it was it was 24-7. You couldn't be free unless you went or someone came in." Finally, Florence also wound up in long-term care at Woodingford Lodge.

Kent and Thomson-Patterson were in for a strange twist of fate when their respective spouses latched onto each other. At dances, her husband Reg would only dance with Florence. "(Reg) didn't want to have anything to do with me," Thom-sonPatterson said. Common in Alzheimer's patients, the new attachments can be exceedingly painful for their spouses. "It hurts," Thomson-Patterson said. "Then common sense kicks in and you realize this isn't the same person." Kent said throughout Florence's battle with the disease, her face appeared lined and stressed from the disease. "I think they have pain in their head from the Alzheimer's disease," he said. Florence died four years ago in Woodstock General Hospital. "Her face looked so peaceful," Kent said. ...http://www.woodstocksentinelreview.com

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