Bienvenido a la página de nuestro equipo de la Asociación de Alzheimer Walk to End Alzheimer's®! Walk es el evento más grande para recaudar fondos y crear conciencia sobre los esfuerzos de atención, apoyo e investigación de la Alzheimer's Association®. Se lleva a cabo anualmente en más de 600 comunidades en todo el país y nuestro equipo está entusiasmado de participar este año. 

I’m Teresa, a care partner with my husband, Dr. Richard Bland. He obtained his undergraduate degree in Mathematics at UCLA, then he did a few years of graduate work in Engineering and Computer research before deciding to attend medical school, all at UCLA. His next six years were spent in internship, surgery residency and a trauma surgery fellowship. Many of his colleagues came to him for his opinions and advice. He has always been the person who forgot where he set down his coffee cup, keys or wallet, but that was only because he had an extensive to-do list running through his head at all times. He was always the “go-to” person in our house when our kids needed advice or help with homework. I’ll sum it up by saying he is a brilliant hardworking man, well respected surgeon, the solid foundation of our family and the love of my life.

We first sought medical evaluation of his memory when he was 56 years old. At the time he was diagnosed with MCI (mild cognitive impairment). His events were all small things: asking me the same question he asked an hour ago, repeating stories, not remembering a task that I asked him to do, or still looking for that coffee cup.

With the continued decline of his memory over the next few years, I began pushing harder for more definitive testing. But, it was apparent that we could not wait for a diagnosis to make some changes. The vitamins, supplements, and diet changes we tried didn't make a difference. Due to some lapses in memory, Richard made some costly mistakes on our home and property. In 2022 when Richard was 69 years old, it was obvious that we just could not live on our six acres of paradise any longer. This emotional decision was made thirteen years from when we first tried to find a diagnosis.

We sold our “forever home”, moved to be closer to one of our children for support and, aun, he was convinced that he did not have Alzheimer’s, but some other problem that could be fixed. I continued to push for testing so we could find the problem and solve it. That is my denial.

Finally, in 2023 we had very extensive testing done at the memory clinic at Kaiser. I remember the day those results came to us. We were in our new, still unfamiliar home on a Zoom call with the memory clinic. I kept hearing weird sounds, like doors closing (which turned out to be the irrigation in our gardens that I wasn’t familiar with yet). I was quite distracted when the doctor told us that Richard has Alzheimer’s. The diagnosis was based on the MRI changes over the last several years and his cognitive testing. There was an enormous lump in my throat like I had eaten something that I just could not swallow. I’m not sure how that call ended. I do remember the tears from a man whom I had never seen cry in all of our years together. We were both devastated to learn that this was something we couldn't fix.

One of our biggest challenges lately has been the loss of his drivers license. He took the DMV written test twice and failed both times. One of our daughters commented that it was probably the first test he had ever failed in his life. I’m sure she is right. This was a huge loss of independence and freedom, for both of us. We spent the last 45 years settling into routines that divided our workload. He was responsible for all the finances, bills, car maintenance, yard work, etc. I had my specific jobs and we had a great balance. Today, I do his jobs as well as my own.

Every day is a challenge. Every day is a new dance that neither of us know the steps to. Do I ask if he needs help finding something (which can offend him sometimes) or let him walk aimlessly around the kitchen opening cupboards? When to help, when not to? It’s all a guessing game.We approach each day with as much optimism and patience as we can muster in that moment. Fortunately, we have the unwavering support of our four children, their spouses, and our grandchildren.

He has been my partner for 45 years and he is still my partner today. I am not his caregiver. I am his care partner (a term I learned from Kori and Tony Gonzales).

We start each day filled with hope that soon there will be a cure for Alzheimer’s Disease. If not for Richard and I, at least for our children and grandchildren.