Thursday, September 22, 2011

Till Alzheimer's Do Us Part?

When I first heard Reverend Pat Robertson’s comment, I thought of Ronald Reagan’s response to incumbent President Jimmy Carter during the 1980 presidential debate, “There you go again.”

“There you go again, Pat,” I thought. But Robertson wasn’t in a debate, he was responding to a caller on his television program, “The 700 Club.” This is not the first time Robertson’s statements have placed him in the center of controversy. In 2010 he blamed the earthquake in Haiti on a pact he said the Haitians made with the Devil 200 years ago.

This time he was counseling a man wanting to know how to advise a friend whose wife was so deep into dementia that she no longer recognized him. The man’s wife as he once knew her was gone, and now he was seeing another woman.

"I know it sounds cruel, but if he's going to do something, he should divorce her and start all over again -- but make sure she has custodial care and somebody looking after her," Robertson said.

But what about the vow, “til death do us part?”

Alzheimer’s is a “kind of death,” a “walking death,” according to him.

Robertson was overlooking the fact that while in many cases caregivers do form relationships with others, few seek to divorce their spouse, and in fact, Alzheimer’s frequently brings families closer together. Robertson was obviously thinking of the caregiver more than the patient.
Neurologist James E. Galvin, director of the dementia clinic of New York University’s Langone Medical Center, said in an interview with the New York Times that victims of this horrible disease still tend to recognize those people who have been closest to them. And Susan Galeas, CEO of the Alzheimer’s Association of Southern California, observes that even as victims of the disease progress toward the end stage of the illness, they are still individuals nonetheless, benefitting from loving relationships, enjoying a rich history filled with personal experiences.

Robertson was clearly struggling with the issue. He advised his listener, “Get some ethicist besides me to give you the answer, because I recognize the dilemma, and the last thing I would do is condemn you for taking that kind of action.”

Robertson’s comments, as misapplied as they may be, should push us to think about this issue. Rather than simply pulling the, “Thou shall not divorce card,” and condemning everyone taking that route, perhaps we would do better to recall Jesus’ “new commandment,” the one about loving each other, the one that says “Just as I have loved you, you should love each other” (John 13:34), and ask ourselves how love is expressed for both care givers and patients in the grip of this grim disease.

More of us will be facing this unfortunate dilemma. An estimated 5.4 million Americans have Alzheimer’s disease, and with the number of baby boomers soon entering their senior years, that figure is bound to increase. Nearly half the people over the age of 85 already have Alzheimer’s. It’s the sixth leading cause of death in the United States. It has no cause, no treatment, and no cure.

My conversations with my Alzheimer’s friend move in the same circular fashion: Her mind malfunctions like a record hopelessly getting stuck in the same place, returning to the same beginning. “Now who are you?” she asks for the third time in 10 minutes. I remind her again; she answers the same: “Oh, yes, I know who you are.”

Her eyes fill with tears as she remembers her deceased husband’s love. And then having remembered him, she forgets him.

“How old am I?” When I remind her, she frowns as she reflects, “I just didn’t know people lived that long. I can’t figure out why God let me live this long, too long.”

“The church, your church still loves you,” I say, trying to reassure her of her place with our community.

In an instant, her frown disappears; a smile spreads across her face as her eyes brighten. “The church,” she says as if an old friend has walked into the room, “the church, I’ve always loved the church, I still love the church.”

Instead of thinking of reasons to go on without them, maybe we should look for reasons to go on with them, for when all the memories have slipped away, the love of relationships remains, and even when the present is only a fuzzy haze, they may still feel love, a love as familiar as a well worn glove, often tenderly received even when they can’t remember the face or the hands that give it.

Contact David B. Whitlock, Ph.D., at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com, or visit his website, www.davidbwhitlock.com

Be Careful with those words, they could be your last

“And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think?”
---Alanis Morissette, from the song, “Ironic”

In a month of bad news---Standard and Poors lowered the U.S.’ sterling credit rating, 30 US service members (including 22 Navy SEALS) were killed in the single deadliest loss for U.S. troops since the Afghan war began in late 2001, in Somalia 3.2 million people need food and aid immediately, and the stock market plunges again and again and again (Is this the new normal?)---it’s refreshing to hear a good story, one of heroism, courage, and irony.

Yes, irony.

Antonio Diaz Chacon, the 24-year-old man who saved a 6-year-old girl from a kidnapper in Albuquerque, N.M. last week was rightfully honored as a hero. Diaz happened to be in the right place at the right time when he saw the girl abducted. He immediately hopped into his black pickup truck and chased down the kidnapper, pulling the girl from the wrecked van. The irony is that Chacon, a mechanic, wasn’t supposed to be there to save that little girl, for Chacon is an illegal immigrant. He’s married to an American and has been in the country four years. But getting an attorney to acquire the legal documents required for illegals was too difficult, time consuming, and expensive for Chacon.

At the ceremony where Albuquerque Mayor Berry hailed him as a “hero” and proclaimed the day, “Antonio Diaz Chacon Day,” New Mexico Governor Susana Martinez said Chacon “acted courageously and as an outstanding Samaritan.” But the Governor’s “outstanding Samaritan” acknowledgement is in itself ironic, for Martinez is trying to repeal a state law that allows illegal immigrants in New Mexico to obtain a driver's license. With no driver’s license, Chacon would quite possibly not have had his job as a mechanic, nor would he have been able legally to use his pickup truck to chase the kidnapper.

But Chacon believes he was supposed to be there that day, and now that it’s happened, he hopes people will see that undocumented immigrants aren’t necessarily criminals. Christina Parker, a spokeswoman for Border Network for Human Rights in El Paso, Texas, said the episode "points to the fact that most undocumented immigrants living in the United States are not criminals. Most are just working to support their families and to take away their driver's license would be detrimental to that."

The constant threat of deportation is also detrimental to familial support and well-being.

What would have happened if Chacon had been living in a state that was cracking down on illegal immigrants, say Arizona, Georgia, or Alabama? Would his possible deportation and subsequent absence from his wife and two daughters have been in the back of his mind when he saw the girl thrown into the van? Would he have paused a split second before deciding what to do? Would his wife have hesitated before dialing 911? And would that moment of ambivalence have allowed the kidnapper time to get away?
I hope not; I think Chacon would have done the right thing anyway. But the very fact that in one state Chacon could be a hero one day, while in another he could perform the same act of heroism and be torn from his family the next day, points to the ironies in our immigration system.
The solution towards a path to legal status for undocumented immigrants lies somewhere in that complicated middle ground between amnesty for all unauthorized documented immigrants and criminal prosecution and deportation of them.
Finding that path is not easy, and in light of Washington’s apparent inability to resolve complex issues, perhaps churches could shine a light for them and others. The Scriptures do have something to say about how we should treat the 15 million undocumented immigrants: “You must not mistreat or oppress foreigners in any way” (Exodus 22:21). And when Jesus warned, “When you did it to the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!” (Matthew 25:40), wouldn’t “the least of these” include undocumented immigrants?
The moral majority of Jesus’ day may not have appreciated his inclusion of the despised Samaritan in his story of the Good Samaritan. In their eyes, he wasn’t supposed to be there.
But Jesus put him in the story anyway to teach us a lesson about doing what is right, compassionate, and good to anyone in need, regardless of their legal status.
And there is no irony in that.

(This article was published 8-29-2011)

Contact David B. Whitlock, Ph.D., at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website, www.davidbwhitlock.com.

Hero Status of Illgeal Immigrants Raises Questions

“And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think?”
---Alanis Morissette, from the song, “Ironic”

In a month of bad news---Standard and Poors lowered the U.S.’ sterling credit rating, 30 US service members (including 22 Navy SEALS) were killed in the single deadliest loss for U.S. troops since the Afghan war began in late 2001, in Somalia 3.2 million people need food and aid immediately, and the stock market plunges again and again and again (Is this the new normal?)---it’s refreshing to hear a good story, one of heroism, courage, and irony.

Yes, irony.

Antonio Diaz Chacon, the 24-year-old man who saved a 6-year-old girl from a kidnapper in Albuquerque, N.M. last week was rightfully honored as a hero. Diaz happened to be in the right place at the right time when he saw the girl abducted. He immediately hopped into his black pickup truck and chased down the kidnapper, pulling the girl from the wrecked van. The irony is that Chacon, a mechanic, wasn’t supposed to be there to save that little girl, for Chacon is an illegal immigrant. He’s married to an American and has been in the country four years. But getting an attorney to acquire the legal documents required for illegals was too difficult, time consuming, and expensive for Chacon.

At the ceremony where Albuquerque Mayor Berry hailed him as a “hero” and proclaimed the day, “Antonio Diaz Chacon Day,” New Mexico Governor Susana Martinez said Chacon “acted courageously and as an outstanding Samaritan.” But the Governor’s “outstanding Samaritan” acknowledgement is in itself ironic, for Martinez is trying to repeal a state law that allows illegal immigrants in New Mexico to obtain a driver's license. With no driver’s license, Chacon would quite possibly not have had his job as a mechanic, nor would he have been able legally to use his pickup truck to chase the kidnapper.

But Chacon believes he was supposed to be there that day, and now that it’s happened, he hopes people will see that undocumented immigrants aren’t necessarily criminals. Christina Parker, a spokeswoman for Border Network for Human Rights in El Paso, Texas, said the episode "points to the fact that most undocumented immigrants living in the United States are not criminals. Most are just working to support their families and to take away their driver's license would be detrimental to that."

The constant threat of deportation is also detrimental to familial support and well-being.

What would have happened if Chacon had been living in a state that was cracking down on illegal immigrants, say Arizona, Georgia, or Alabama? Would his possible deportation and subsequent absence from his wife and two daughters have been in the back of his mind when he saw the girl thrown into the van? Would he have paused a split second before deciding what to do? Would his wife have hesitated before dialing 911? And would that moment of ambivalence have allowed the kidnapper time to get away?
I hope not; I think Chacon would have done the right thing anyway. But the very fact that in one state Chacon could be a hero one day, while in another he could perform the same act of heroism and be torn from his family the next day, points to the ironies in our immigration system.
The solution towards a path to legal status for undocumented immigrants lies somewhere in that complicated middle ground between amnesty for all unauthorized documented immigrants and criminal prosecution and deportation of them.
Finding that path is not easy, and in light of Washington’s apparent inability to resolve complex issues, perhaps churches could shine a light for them and others. The Scriptures do have something to say about how we should treat the 15 million undocumented immigrants: “You must not mistreat or oppress foreigners in any way” (Exodus 22:21). And when Jesus warned, “When you did it to the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!” (Matthew 25:40), wouldn’t “the least of these” include undocumented immigrants?
The moral majority of Jesus’ day may not have appreciated his inclusion of the despised Samaritan in his story of the Good Samaritan. In their eyes, he wasn’t supposed to be there.
But Jesus put him in the story anyway to teach us a lesson about doing what is right, compassionate, and good to anyone in need, regardless of their legal status.
And there is no irony in that.

(This article was publised 8-22-2011

Contact David B. Whitlock, Ph.D., at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website, www.davidbwhitlock.com.