The Study

 

I’ve just joined a research study for dementia involving statins. It all began with an ad on Facebook which piqued my interest because I’m old and have known several friends and relatives with the disease. Even my husband had a mild case of dementia before his death in 2012.

The study is funded by NIH and came to me via UF Health in Jacksonville. Since I am a good distance away, I will participate virtually, no need for blood tests, since they are not concerned with lipids, and no need for physical appointments.

I began with a long phone call (40 minutes) at 10 A.M. and an email providing a lengthy consent form. Renae (from Jax) recorded my personal information such as health history, social security and medicare numbers, and puzzling to me two trusted people’s addresses and phone numbers. I provided those of my daughter and granddaughter. I thought about this and decided they were contacts in case I kicked the bucket before my 2nd test. And Renae remained on the phone while I read and signed the consent form. In it I found I could read about the study at preventabletrial.org. She promised to send me a printed copy of the form and told me I would soon receive the statin (or placebo) through the mail plus a check for $75, a surprise to me.

Then, she made a phone appointment for me at 3 P.M. on the same day for my baseline test which occurred right on time. The caller first made sure I was in a quiet space where I would not be disturbed, that I

 had no computer open or paper and pencil handy. For twenty minutes he asked me memory questions such as today’s date, my age, who is the president, vice-president, count backward from 20, subtract 7 starting with 100, word opposites, etc. etc… And then the difficult one for me, remembering a list of words. Of course, there was no pass/fail, but I already know I am no good at that. I found it all very interesting.

At the end, he, too, informed me that my statin (or placebo) would be mailed and to start taking it right away. And in one year I would receive another phone call to take the same test, which apparently is how they will be able to tell if statins have an impact on dementia. The study is for 75-80 year olds with no history of heart disease or dementia. Of course, I can opt out of the study at any time for any reason.

I’ve never been in a research study before so this is all new to me, and I’m sharing this little bit of information, not to endorse it, but because I thought how a virtual study is done might be interesting to others. I feel good about being a part of something that could help others in the future especially those with dementia and their caregivers. And I should say that I asked my primary care doctor’s opinion before I joined the study. She was wholly in favor of it.

Roots

No matter how long I live in Florida, I continue to feel like a Delawarean. Since I hate cold weather and cannot imagine moving back to Delaware, this remains a mystery to me. One of the first things I do every morning is click on the Rehoboth Beach Cam on my laptop to see what’s happening at my favorite childhood summer getaway. This week snow has covered the sandy beach and boardwalk, but I see sun-worshippers on blankets under colorful umbrellas. There are kids and dogs kicking up sand and transistor radios blasting out rock ‘n roll music. I can feel the incoming wave lifting me off my feet as I ride the surface and swallow a trickle of salt water. The sun is hot and the water is cool, and I pay rapt attention to the next wave coming in. The sunbathers are forgotten. It is just me and the ocean.

I was reminded of my roots last Saturday when I attended an unexpected memorial service for a friend. It was held in a beautiful chapel surrounded by tall trees, mostly naked in our Florida winter but still lovely. The pews were full and the service began with one of my favorite hymns, also a favorite of the honoree. Although most everyone was in somber colors, the atmosphere was soon lightened by happy and sometimes hilarious memories of the son, daughter, granddaughter, and wife. Ken would have been proud!

Afterward, we walked a ways to another building to share food and memories, and I ended up sitting at a table with another friend who was originally from the Carolinas. We got to talking about West Virginia, the birthplace of my husband, and then I thought of the last song I had heard my friend sing, my friend who had passed away, Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver. He accompanied himself beautifully on the ukulele, so talented in music, art and everything he put his hand to.

Of course, Art and I had to start singing (quietly) and after the words poured out, Art mentioned how he had noticed that one could tell where someone was from by the way they pronounced “mountain”. He said mountain people always spoke with a very soft ‘t” or no audible “t” at all. I had to say the word several times in my head and realized it sounded “normal” to me both ways. So, did I pick that up from JIm, my husband? I honestly don’t know. Mountain is a spoken word that I never thought peculiar to any particular place until now.

And that made me wonder if, unconsciously, I have become a Floridian. Has my Delaware accent disappeared? And what else has changed. One thing I know has not changed, I still hate okra and grits! But just maybe, I can now call myself a Floridian.