It is the nature of the disease. Especially in LBD. Depending on where the damage occurs in the brain and how bad it gets and each individuals uniqueness, all plays a role.
I explain it using this analogy. It is like a bunch of wires all running next to each other in a wire loom (our brain) in one part of a machine then spreads out to make the machine run. One melts a little inside the machine and starts shorting out but doesn't go bad completely. The other wires continue to run the machine fine until they too start to short out because of the stray electricity from the first wire's problems. Meanwhile the machine "acts" funny in different ways and at different times. Eventually the whole machine dies because of too much smaller damages to the wiring over time. There's no way of knowing what and where the damages occur until the machine is taken completely apart.
We humans can't have our brains disassembled to try and track the damages as it happens. So we guess, wait and do the best we can as we go.
I never knew which version of my mother I’d get. The “I know more than everyone and have never been incorrect my entire life!” whirlwind, or the “Who’s paying you to mess with my stuff to make me think I’m losing my mind?” rage, or the “I just know I’m going to die some time today.” helpless invalid. (to name a few) One day she’d prepare herself a meal, insulted at the notion that she could benefit from help. The next she’d chew on frozen chicken, expecting it to come out of the box like the plated serving photo on the box.
She’s in care now and the staff has noted the same.
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I explain it using this analogy. It is like a bunch of wires all running next to each other in a wire loom (our brain) in one part of a machine then spreads out to make the machine run. One melts a little inside the machine and starts shorting out but doesn't go bad completely. The other wires continue to run the machine fine until they too start to short out because of the stray electricity from the first wire's problems. Meanwhile the machine "acts" funny in different ways and at different times. Eventually the whole machine dies because of too much smaller damages to the wiring over time. There's no way of knowing what and where the damages occur until the machine is taken completely apart.
We humans can't have our brains disassembled to try and track the damages as it happens. So we guess, wait and do the best we can as we go.
I never knew which version of my mother I’d get. The “I know more than everyone and have never been incorrect my entire life!” whirlwind, or the “Who’s paying you to mess with my stuff to make me think I’m losing my mind?” rage, or the “I just know I’m going to die some time today.” helpless invalid. (to name a few) One day she’d prepare herself a meal, insulted at the notion that she could benefit from help. The next she’d chew on frozen chicken, expecting it to come out of the box like the plated serving photo on the box.
She’s in care now and the staff has noted the same.
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