Chris Chaney - an altered mind

The suspicion that something is wrong physically or mentally can manifest itself in a variety of ways. Perhaps it’s feeling an unexplained ache or pain, or finding a lump under the skin, or sudden bouts of crying. For Chris Chaney, it happened while he was driving.

Chris Chaney, several years before symptoms began

 Chris had just dropped his grandson off at preschool, and was returning home. “It was like someone had pulled a black curtain down over me,” Chris said. “I pulled over, and then it went away and I was able to drive again.”

In Chris’s memory, he told his wife, Janet, about it, and they went to the doctor, then a specialist.

For Janet, the suspicion that something was wrong was more subtle, and came about gradually. She said that about five years ago, she started noticing little things. “We would watch the same television show, and it was like we had each seen a different show,” Janet said. She also noticed lapses in Chris’s memory.

There is no way to qualify when Chris felt the black curtain cover his mind and his vision, or why in his memory he told Janet about it and then went to the doctor. The only certainty is that this is how Chris perceives the beginning of knowing something was wrong. But what actually prompted a visit to the doctor, Janet said, is when Chris, who was always great with directions, couldn’t remember how to get to Janet’s sister’s house. That’s when Janet knew something was indeed wrong and that Chris needed to be checked out.

That first doctor visit led to visits with specialists, which led to series of testing. Finally, two years after Janet first noticed Chris’s memory problems, he and Janet received the diagnosis: Early stage Alzheimer’s. Chris was 61.

 “I was flabbergasted,” Chris said. “I had no idea this was happening. I was scared.” Janet was scared too, but not necessarily surprised, because, as she said, by that time they were both sure that something was wrong.

Available information about Alzheimer’s isn’t cheerful to read. There is a seven-stage framework that generalizes what to expect, starting with a mild cognitive decline and ending with severe decline that causes abnormal reflexes, rigid muscles, impaired swallowing, and eventually death. On average, people with Alzheimer's disease live eight to 10 years following diagnosis, though some survive as long as 25 years.

“I was really mad,” Chris said about the prognosis. “I thought I had some good years left in me.”

Chris spent some time living with that anger, trying to process what was going to happen to him, how it would change daily life as he knew it, how it would affect those he loved. “Then I realized the anger wasn’t going to help,” he said. “I went back to being a kid, praying every day. Once I got over being mad, all kinds of people stepped forward to help.”

That help came in the form of rides, prayers, shared meals together. Chris also joined a group through the Alzheimer’s Association that meets twice a week and offers not only support but games and exercises designed to stimulate cognitive function. “We call ourselves the Crazies,” Chris said. “They’re people like me who can still get around and do things. We’re all in the same boat.” Chris said the support group has helped him a lot, especially by just being able to talk to people who are now his peers in ways they can all relate with.

Though Chris does still drive, he has found that he becomes disoriented on cloudy or rainy days. He said he can’t seem to get his bearings at those times. Therefore, in winter he becomes more reclusive. Soon, he won’t be able to attend the men’s group at Holy Cross on Thursday mornings unless someone offers to bring him.

Chris Chaney in 1994

He tries to keep himself physically fit, exercising regularly while listening to music. This man, who worked in a position of management, who earned a doctorate when he was in his mid-20s, who is a charter member and past council president of Holy Cross, now takes medication every day, hoping to slow the inevitable progression of this life-altering and devastating disease. And when he gets upset and angry, he said, he considers all those who are less fortunate than him, especially children who have suffered. That helps him put his own life into perspective.

He credits his wife, Janet, for being a rock of support. “She has a good backbone,” Chris said. “She’s tough, always practical.” Janet said she continues to work full-time, which gives her an outlet, and she tries to keep Chris engaged in daily activities.

“It’s important to keep his spirits up,” she said. “With everything else going on, getting depressed doesn’t help.”

For Chris, there isn’t much he can do but keep on living each day as it dawns, and staying as positive as he can. “There’s no cure,” he said. “That’s the one thing that really bothered me. I know that it will slowly progress.” 

There is hope on the horizon for people who suffer from Alzheimer’s. The 2014 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine was awarded on October 6 to a trio who discovered cells in the hippocampus and entorhinal cortex that constitute a positioning system in the brain. These cortexes are frequently affected in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, causing individuals to lose their way and be unable to recognize their environment. This type of research may help lead to better understanding and perhaps even a cure some day for Alzheimer’s.

What they discovered might help explain something Janet has noticed with Chris. She said that, for example, she was trying to point out a weed to Chris, but he couldn’t see it. She said they had his vision tested, but his eyesight seemed okay, so it was a mystery why he couldn’t see visible things at times. The explanation might be that it’s not a vision problem, but rather how he now interprets his environment, since the mapping position in his brain has gone awry.

Chris and Janet Chaney today

Chris and Janet have two grown sons and a daughter, and three grandchildren. Family helps keep them grounded. They are also appreciative of how much friendship helps, such as people offering to have dinner with them, or coming over to spend a few hours with Chris at home, or offering to give him rides. Living in the moment is the best medicine for them, rather than focusing on the future. Chris and Janet decided to share their story because it might help someone else in some way, perhaps provide some insight or some hope.

“I don’t know why,” Chris said, “but I still feel God’s presence.” That is apparent within moments of meeting Chris, the wit and sparkle that comes from a presence deep within. God is surely with this family.