Still Alice by Lisa Genova

Get off the bus. Walk up to the supermarket ahead of you. Yes, it's inside the mall. Scan the QR code at entrance. Check temperature. Walk up straight. What did you want? Burrata. Blueberries. Milk. Walk up straight down. You will see the big refrigerator on the right. Yes. That's where the milk is. The dark blue bottle cover. On your left is a carousel of sorts. You will find Burrata there. Blueberries are there too.

Make a loop. Hook up a few chain stitches. Yarn over the hook and pull a loop through the chain space you have made.

Press the nozzle down for liquid soap to flow out on your wet utensil scrub. Rub it around your plate. Scrub a little over the hardened food traces. Yes. Rinse the plate. Let the water drip over the utensil rack.

These are just few of the tasks that we do on a daily basis without even batting an eyelid. Thinking is a far more complicated process. Our bodies and mind is so conditioned to do certain tasks so mechanically, that we don't even need to think about it. But, what do you do, when you start forgetting these small, insignificant details?

I am petrified of the stairs. I have fallen numerous times. I start feeling giddy when I climb down the stairs. I lose a footing. My body balance is shaky. I start seeing blurred. I develop a dread when the escalators stop rolling after the last movie in the mall. Which means, we have to walk down those horrible metal stairs. What if we just froze? What if our bodies did not want to listen to the basic instructions of putting one leg in front of the other and walk. What if we had no sense of how deep the next step was?

On low days, I ask myself - do my closest people miss me as much as I miss them? Do they need me as much as I need them? Do they think that without me somethings cannot be done. I know I'm not indispensable. But, does it cross people's minds that it would be nice to do an activity with me? But, what if I slowly forget the closest people? What if I forget how to mingle? What if I forget my connections? Names, relationships? And I can't understand why I have forgotten...

Still Alice by Lisa Genova is a story I probably will remember for a long, long time to come. I listened to this book non-stop last 2 odd days. I choked at various times over the sentences. I slapped my forehead in pain and frustration saying no no...this can't happen. Not so fast. Please.

Harvard Professor Alice Howland is a name to reckon with at the University. 25 years of excellence. One day, she is on the podium, addressing her students and freezes mid sentence. She was not used to referring to notes as she had delivered these talks to so many batches of students that she could possibly rattle off in her sleep. But, she forgot a word to end her sentence. Huh?! What's the word? Lexicon - the word she remembered hours later. This was only the first few instances that she actually remembered that she had forgotten or slipped off her mind.

These scary instances become more common, forcing her to Google her condition. A satisfactory answer of these being symptoms of menopause temporarily deal with the irritation. But, she does go and visit a doctor soon to explain her condition and to understand what was going on. She is hit by the revelation that she has Alzheimer's. An early onset. Something not very common in people who are quinquagenarian. She had to be special. That starts off her neurological tests and keeping a track of her daily movements and her mind breaking down fast.

This is the story of Alice. Alice, who is not dying of Alzheimer's. But, living with Alzheimer's. A story that will touch the pits of your stomach and bring involuntary tears. A story of intelligence, intellectual prowess and brilliance, all losing their meaning. Like someone throwing a whitewash over a beautiful painting. Blank. Ugly. But, living through it with so much dignity. It is also about Alice's husband, John and their kids of how they survived this catastrophe. Imagining a mother losing complete recognition of her children is something I cannot fathom. It is heartbreaking.

I cannot recommend this book more than this review. It's brilliantly written/narrated. No fancy words, no flowery language. Just facts. And sometimes that's enough. Enough to touch the deep recesses of your heart.

I rewinded to listen to many sentences in the last few hours. Her final speech to the faculty of Harvard, doctors, friends and family is probably one of the best speeches ever. Simple. Straight from the heart.

Some snippets I absolutely loved:

1. "You're so beautiful," said Alice. "I'm afraid of looking at you and not knowing who you are."

"I think that even if you don't know who I am someday, you'll still know that I love you. "

2. ...My yesterdays are disappearing, and my tomorrows are uncertain, so what do I live for? I live for each day. I live in the moment. Some tomorrow soon, I'll forget that I stood before you and gave this speech. But just because I'll forget it some tomorrow doesn't mean that I didn't live every second of it today. I will forget today, but that doesn't mean that today doesn't matter.”

3. I am a wife, mother, and friend, and soon to be grandmother, I still feel, understand, and am worthy of the love and joy in those relationships. I am still an active participant in society. My brain no longer works well, but I use my ears for unconditional listening, my shoulders for crying on, and my arms for hugging others with dementia. Through an early stage support group...by talking to you today, I am helping others with dementia live better with dementia. I am not someone dying. I am someone living with Alzheimer's. I want to do that as well as I possibly can.