Good morning. Thank you very much for inviting me.
I'm going to be echoing many of the things I've just heard. Interestingly, I will also refer to this as a journey, and I've written something I've called A Journey into Dementia--The Absence of Presence. Let me introduce myself. I'm a professor emeritus of medicine at the University of Toronto. Until recently, I was executive vice-president and chief medical executive at Sunnybrook, and currently I'm a consultant with the Ontario Hospital Association. I only mention this to illustrate that no matter how easily one can access clinical or research expertise, there really is very little help in terms of navigating this journey.
My interest in dementia was triggered by my wife's development of advanced frontotemporal dementia. I feel that my experience of over 45 years in health care, together with my experience as a caregiver, has equipped me to address you today.
As you may have heard, Alzheimer's disease represents only one form of dementia. All forms of dementia are diseases of the brain. As you have heard, they are not a normal part of aging, and no one is immune. My wife was diagnosed at 62, and as I think back, the process likely started in her mid 50s. Dementia erases memory, alters personality, steals the ability to think, and makes simple daily tasks such as eating or getting dressed impossible. It robs independence and eventually takes life.
Judy, who just turned 70, is currently confined to a wheelchair, is incontinent, is unable to speak, has to be fed, and does not recognize me, her children, or her grandchildren. I always thought the worst thing in life would be losing a loved one to cancer or heart disease. I now realize that as painful as that must be, there is an end and to some degree life can go on. For me, watching Judy deteriorate slowly over several years seems so much worse. Death seems to be occurring in an incremental fashion.
Perhaps the only good thing is that I believe and fervently hope she is unaware of what is happening to her. Yet in some way I pray that she feels comforted by my touch and the love that surrounds her. As difficult as it is, it is important for us to remember the Judy she was: wife, mother, friend, successful professional. We have strived to respect her for both who she was and, importantly, who she is now.
As you've just heard, the scary part is that the prevalence of dementia is increasing at an alarming rate. As the prevalence grows, so does the community of families and caregivers who look after loved ones. For every person with dementia, 10 to 12 others are directly affected.
With the increasing incidence, it is likely that each of you in this room will be touched by this disease. You will develop dementia, or a close family member will, your spouse or your parent. Caregiving is a critical issue for people living with loved ones suffering from dementia. Family caregivers are the invisible and hidden backbone of the health and long-term care system in Canada, contributing over $5 billion of unpaid care. Caring for someone with dementia is difficult and distressing and it often leads to financial, mental, and physical health problems, further taxing the social and health care systems. It currently is costing me approximately $70,000 per year to provide the care that I believe my wife deserves.
Let me give you another example. My wife is currently in a world-class, long-term care facility. Nevertheless, the vast majority of their clients have either family or private caregivers to support the limited number of staff necessitated by budgetary constraints. I recently spoke to another husband who comes in several hours every day to look after his wife. With tears in his eyes, he said he realized his obligation, but the days were getting longer and he was getting so tired. His comments reinforced for me the tremendous burden that many family member caregivers suffer. Paralleling the three stages of dementia, three stages of caregiving have been identified. The early stage is a time of surprise, fear, denial, confusion, and sadness. In the middle stage, caregivers experience frustration, guilt, and resentment. By the late stages of caregiving, there is sadness, guilt, regrets, relief, solace, and eventually closure.
For my part, my immediate reaction to Judy's diagnosis was denial. This could not be happening to us. Judy was so bright and vibrant. Certainly she would not progress in a way that would affect our lives for many years to come. I was wrong. As her disease progressed, denial was replaced with anger. All those years of work and planning for retirement, our trips, our sharing getting old together, our enjoyment of our children and grandchildren, all going up in smoke.
As the Judy I knew is now gradually but inexorably disappearing, despair and sadness have supplanted anger. More recently, I have been introduced to a concept known as ambiguous loss. Although all losses are touched with ambiguity, those who suffer ambiguous loss, a loss without finality or resolution, bear a particular and challenging burden. Such ambiguous loss can occur in dementia that takes a loved one's mind or memory away. The person you care about is physically present but emotionally and cognitively missing. As there is no end to ambiguous loss, it freezes the grief process and prevents closure. It tends to paralyze functioning. Tensions build up as those of us who are experiencing ambiguous loss can be filled with conflicting thoughts and feelings as well as guilt. We may dread the death of a loved one who is hopelessly ill while at the same time longing for closure and an end to waiting. We can be both angry and sad--angry at the demands of caregiving while at the same time sad because we are losing a loved one. Of all losses experienced in personal relationships, ambiguous loss, to me, is the most devastating because it remains unclear and indeterminate.
Dementia is more than an important health concern. It has the potential to overwhelm our health care system if fundamental changes are not made in research funding and care delivery. Delaying the onset of symptoms of dementia by only five years could, over time, decrease by 50% the number of people with more advanced diseases requiring complex community or institutional care. The savings of health care dollars would be huge. Is there another disease where the investment in research, health promotion, early detection, and intervention could have a greater payback to society?
I believe I was asked to make a few recommendations, so let me do that at this time.
Number one is the one you've already heard, which is to ramp up research spending to a level that is at least commensurate with the scale of the disease. It has been estimated that this would involve a 15 times increase to match research in heart disease and a 30 times increase to match cancer research. We need to identify people at risk and introduce interventions before they are symptomatic and experiencing brain cell deaths. We can't do this without a massive concerted effort on the research front.
Patients, especially chronically ill patients, such as patients with dementia, are journeying through very complex care systems, and we too often drop the ball. Hand-offs do not go well. Patients get confused. We get confused. Systems are not modernized. To me, the hallmarks of the care system that we need are integration, cooperation, and seamlessness. Unfortunately, they are not present and will require change.
Some of the things one could look at include increasing or redistributing resources to increase the number of long-term care beds, to relieve the alternative level of care problem in acute care hospitals that allow both patients in acute care and long-term care to receive appropriate treatment in the appropriate setting; assigning case managers to people with dementia to help them navigate the complex health care system we have; improving education of primary care providers in the public regarding the signs of dementia and the need for early diagnosis and intervention; enhancing programs that bring people to care, such as adult day programs; enhancing programs that bring care to people, such as Meals on Wheels, transportation to appointments, assistance in shopping, assistance in care for their homes, supportive housing; protecting and supporting caregivers, recognizing the importance of their role, both in terms of keeping families intact and in terms of reducing reliance on the public health care system; giving caregivers the tools they need, knowledge and training, and protecting them from poverty and giving them a break from time to time, so they can stay engaged without falling apart themselves; and finally, improving the quality of lives of people living in long-term care homes.
Thank you very much for listening to my presentation.