To the editor: I’m glad that screenwriter David Milch is coping well in his five-year journey with Alzheimer’s disease. He appears to nonetheless be alert, considering and cogent. Sadly, that’s not the truth for the overwhelming majority of dementia sufferers and their households after a number of years.
When the media pull a discreet curtain over the true dementia expertise, these untouched by it might not totally admire the beautiful distress suffered by sufferers as they refuse and their family members who witness it.
There’s clearly the lack of reminiscence, but additionally the lack of physique features; the harrowing wild west of looking for in-home caregivers or “reminiscence care” dwelling facilities; the draining of financial savings, lack of work and any pretense of a traditional life for the (normally) grownup youngsters or partner to whom this burden falls; and the unrelenting grief.
I used to be not given a highway map or ready in any manner for the lengthy goodbye first of my mom, then my father. I want that somebody would have given me an sincere tackle what lay forward, and I earnestly want these with a public or media voice will step up and talk about dementia with the honesty, gravity and respect it calls for.
Susan Deutsch, Venice
To the editor: I learn your article about Milch with disappointment and hope for one thing artistic once more from this gifted man. I need to share a narrative about his kindness.
When he was filming “Hill Avenue Blues” at what was referred to as Radford Studio within the early Nineteen Eighties, I used to be a struggling character actress with a gimmick. I might stand in entrance of various studios with a sandwich board studying, “Audition Denise McCanles.”
Whereas most individuals thought I used to be loopy, Milch walked by me to lunch every time I used to be on the market and all the time acknowledged me, smiled and stated one thing encouraging. I’ll always remember his kindness. He made a younger, insecure actress really feel essential.
Denise McCanles, West Hollywood