Neurological Disorders and My Loved Ones

It seems like neurological disorders abound with my loved ones. My aunty Alice developed cerebral palsy after contracting an infection during infancy. My uncle Katsutoshi fell into a persistent vegetative state after an unlocked construction crane fell on his head and back. My uncle Harumi experienced several strokes, as did my aunty Carol and my dad. My mother sustained a subarachnoid hemorrhage (aneurysm rupture) along with senile dementia. My dear friend and meditation teacher Rob was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor, a glioblastoma multiforme, which took his life within five months.

My favorite aunt Jean was diagnosed with the sporadic form of amyotropic lateral sclerosis (ALS) in early 2016, adding yet another neurological illness to an already large list. The disease was so aggressive that by October, she was unable to speak, so my calls consisted of me making awkward small talk while she grunted in response.

Considering the fact that I had a keen interest in neuroscience since childhood and believed that I would become a neurologist even in my final year of medical school, I find it ironic that so many people who have been near and dear to me have fallen victim to so many neurological maladies, ranging from cerebrovascular events, to neuromuscular disorders, to traumatic brain injury, to neoplasm. Despite this, my fascination for the neurosensory system has not abated. I just hope my favorite people don’t keep getting struck by ailments which afflict this system.

My Weekly Calls

Designed by Dooder - Freepik.com

When my mother’s aneurysm rupture occurred in August of 2004, I immediately thought of two elderly ladies whom I considered surrogate mothers: one was my mother’s sister Jean, and the other was a dear friend of my mother’s and mine, whom everyone referred to as Frenchie. With my mother hovering over the edge of death, I made a sudden realization that I needed to reach out to these surrogate mothers more regularly. Anything could happen in an instant and forever change the lives of these women whom I adored.

My mother was in the Neurosurgical ICU at UCLA for two weeks, then spent another week on the med-surg floor recovering from two coil embolization procedures. Shortly after my mother was released from the hospital, I decided to call my aunt Jean and Frenchie every week to say hello and to check up on them. With only a few stark exceptions (such as trips out of the country), I was able to keep my promise to myself and to them over the years. To this day I still call Frenchie every week to chat.

Sadly, my aunt alienated the majority of the family four years ago and refused to speak to me for a year. Once she allowed me to contact her again, things weren’t the same, and what further complicated the situation was that she developed amyotropic lateral sclerosis (ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s Disease) in early 2016. ALS eventually robbed my aunt of her ability to speak, and she eventually passed away on December 20, 2016.

For any of you who keep pushing off contacting old friends or relatives, I implore you to contact them NOW. If you wait, it might be too late when you finally get around to it.