A patient of mine vanished the other night.
B. Smith, the well-known entertainment and lifestyle personality, had just come to my office for a consultation. In the year sinceher diagnosis of Alzheimer’sat a still-beautiful age 64, her family had clung to the words early stage, but after 90 minutes of geriatric assessment, it was clear to me that B.’s condition was considerably worse than anyone had thought. Despite the fact that her social personality appeared intact, her cognitive function was severely impaired. Her short-term memory was almost completely gone. She had no idea of the year or where she was, couldn’t draw a clock, couldn’t even subtract 2 from 10.
At the end of the visit, I indicated that while we would start her on some Alzheimer’s medicines, the “magic bullet” for her was care management, addressing the needs of the patient and the caregiver, her husband Dan Gasby. I recommended getting her an Alzheimer’s bracelet in case she got lost; basically never leaving her alone; and getting more hours of expert home care.
Afterward, according to the plan made before her visit, B. walked with family to 59th Street and Lexington and got on a jitney back home to Sag Harbor, the same way she came into NYC that morning. To the family, the original plan seemed simple enough, and safe. B. was to be alone on the bus, but her family told the driver to keep an eye on her, and to be sure B. got off at Sag Harbor, the second stop on the route. B. had no phone; she had lost it days before. She had identification, but in a small, easy-to-lose handbag.
She never got to Sag Harbor.
For the next 15 hours, as snow clouds gathered and temperatures dropped, B.’s frantic husband waited for some word. He assumed she’d gotten out at Southampton and wandered off — but where? Finally at about 2 pm the next day, an acquaintance recognized B — tired and disheveled — at a midtown diner. B hadn’t ridden the jitney out to the Hamptons at all. She’d gotten out at the last Manhattan stop — 40th street — and walked the streets all night.
This is not an unusual story for people with Alzheimer’s, a chronic, progressive, invariably fatal neurodegenerative disease. I’ve been fighting Alzheimer’s for over 35 years, both as a neuroscientist and as a physician specializing in geriatric medicine. At our foundation, the Alzheimer’s Drug Discovery Foundation, we are funding the development of new drugs that can alter the course of Alzheimer’s or prevent the disease. But while our funded researchers attempt to discover effective and safe treatments, we need to address the equally dire need for better clinical care.
The failures often begin in the doctor’s office where an addled patient and their caregiver first come for help.









