Diagnosis: Genius Rejected – VIDEO

Sometimes it’s better to laugh than to cry. This can be very true when caring for an Alzheimer’s patient. I wrote this poem about taking my mother for her evaluation and published it in my first book about Alzheimer’s caregiving, Mosaic Moon. I did this reading at the Hawaii Child & Family Services luncheon earlier this month.

At the end of the poem, I mention my mother’s concern about money. When I read this for the lunch group, I noted that it is one of the things that dementia patients often talk a lot about, their finances. Sometimes they fixate on one person and say that he or she is taking their money. Sometimes that’s one of the symptoms of dementia. But it is VERY important that caregivers investigate these accusations, because sometimes it is true, and it is not just their altered perception.

Diagnosis: Genius Rejected

Anxious like a mother with a preschooler,
Hoping for entrance to nursery school,
I sit next to my mother with a silent prayer:
“Please answer all the questions wisely.”

“Mrs. Kakugawa”, the diagnostician begins,
“What is your name? Where were you born?
How many children do you have?”
Ah, good, good, she’s passing with flying colors.

I keep my eyes on his chart,
Checking to see that he marks
The right column, noting Pass.
Positive. Normal.

He upgrades his questioning to:
“Mrs. Kakugawa, you are at Las Vegas airport.
You have lost your airline tickets and it’s time to go home.
You have only three dollars. What will you do?”

Without hesitation my mother says,
“I’ll put the money back in the slot machine,
Make plenty money and buy another ticket.”
“She’s a genius,” I’m applauding silently.

I watch his pencil move to negative on her chart.
Yes, she should have said, “Use a telephone and like ET,
Call home.”
Her ingenuity has no place on this chart.

“Mrs. Kakugawa,” he continues.
“You’re walking down the street and you find a letter.
It has an address and a stamp on.
Tell me what you’ll do with this letter.”

Once again my genius in disguise answers,
“I’ll check the address and deliver it to the house.”
Of course she will. She knows all her neighbors.
Another great step for her brain cells.

Wrong. He marks negative on her chart.
“Increase her Aricept.”
I walk my mother out, saddened
That geniuses are off his chart.

“How did I do?” she asks,
“Do I have to pay him? Do I have money?”
“You did super good,” I say.
“And no, you don’t have to pay him.
He should pay you!”

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from Charles Pellegrino’s teenage daughter

 Truth Matters

How do you know as parents, your desires and attempts to teach your children the values of  being a good human being are being received and nurtured? Often, the most important lessons can’t be measured by test scores or other immediate feedback. Academic learnings, such as math, can be measured through tests or by observing whether those concepts are being applied in their daily living. But what about truth, respect, dignity and standing up for what you believe? How do you teach and measure that? Parents, I believe, can only hope that their role modeling is making a difference, even if the results are not presently visible. Often, these lessons come with a price.

I asked Charles Pellegrino, “How are your children handling this controversy over your book? ( Last Train from Hiroshima). Do they need protecting or are they protecting you?”  His answer came through his junior high school daughter Kelly who wrote an essay in class before the Last Train from Hiroshima controversy.

Kelly is truly her father’s daughter. Once again, a child shows us that if we respect them and allow them to live with the same kind of dignity, honesty, love and trust we wish to nurture in them, they will eventually know this is the way to be.

Kelly, you are totally awesome. You taught me that there is no need for protection where truth prevails. The world’s a better place because of you and your dad. I hope to meet you someday. Thank you, Kelly.

Truth Matters,
by K. Pellegrino, March 2010:

From the time I could talk, I found that lying to my parents, or my siblings, was the easy way out. The littlest details that I spoke were, usually, lies. Claims like, “Kylie did it, not me!” or “No, I did not take your crackers!” were heard every day. I should not have been surprised that by age five I had lost my parents’ trust.

Daddy always told me that truth was golden. “The only exception,” he said, “is to protect an innocent person from harm.” I made no effort to understand. “I do tell the truth! The truth – and nothing but the truth!” I would say, and then dismiss the subject.

I didn’t really learn how important the truth was until I was six years old, when Daddy sat us all down at the table. “I’ve made a decision,” he began, “that is going to affect all of us, and not in a good way.”

At the time, he had been working at Ground Zero [New York] as a forensic scientist. He also made part of his living by writing books. His editor-in-chief had asked him to claim, along with a group of others (among which was a powerful, award-winning writer), to go along with a terrible hoax. According to the hoax, a fire truck (Ladder 4), had been found filled with stacks of stolen blue jeans, and therefore this fire crew had been looting on 9/11, instead of saving lives. The truck, in fact, was found in the middle of Daddy’s section, and he was capable [Dad NOTE: Along with Rhonda Schearer], of proving that it was a hoax. The proof was so strong that the author and editor admitted it was a hoax; but they threatened him. If he did not go along with it, “as a team player,” they assured him that they had the power to damage his career.

“I said no,” Daddy continued. “I couldn’t do that. If I did, how could I face you kids and ever tell you again that the truth matters?”

At the time, I did not fully comprehend what he was telling me. But as I grew older, I noticed changes. Dad could no longer afford to keep my Grandfather’s home. After a History Channel program [American Vesuvius, 2005] featured his forensic investigation and cleared Ladder 4′s name, Dad’s literary agent was forced to fire him, or face boycott of every one of his authors (by an editor).

And I realized, if Dad is willing to sacrifice his writing career for the truth, it must have tremendous importance.

Many parents tell their kids not to lie, but it’s their actions that kids learn from and copy. I’m thankful for my Dad, and how he taught me the importance of truth through his example, and I never would have been able to dedicate myself to the truth without his help.

K. Pellegrino

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