Sundowning Diary - part 1

16 June 2015 The Medical News

This is year two thousand twenty. Bored of constant flights, bored of ru

Arrogant, spoiled son of a gun. This is how they call me back in my homeland, for uncontrolled, frenzied lifestyle of multi-billionaire, spending the fortune of my Old man at random, fortune that he gained with his “blood and sweat”, I admit that, my father - very respected oil magnate and Timber businessman - very seldom compromised corruption, but at a times pulled so called “triggers” to fiercely eliminate his potential enemies, you know. Nevertheless I love my father, and ignore what they try to describe him in local and foreign media, those freaken money-thirsty rascals. Not interested interfering his “family business” unless I’m fully sponsored for my daily trips. Yes you heard it. I travel much. Very much. Try to beat the time. No, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like traveling around the world in order to pass time , have fun, spend the money to burn. This is regarding my condition.

To be honest I travel every day, constantly. Flying, catching high speed train and all other available faster transportation means – besides driving. Every single day me up to 4-5 hours ahead of a sunset. It has been almost 5 years since I last watched the night sky. My condition is related to the need of daylight. Let’s say I’m addicted to natural light. Yeah….May Allah bless the purportedly medieval man who said “life is not only beers and skittles “

Moscow –Frankfurt, London- New York, Washington DC- California, Honolulu – Tokyo , Beijing – Baku – my homeland, this is routine, everyday flight suit for prevailing on “natural dark”. The faster I fly away from oncoming night, the more time I get for passing time in open air. My most dangerous enemy is travel delays, flight cancellations, bloody staff member strikes . Me already adapted to sleeping during flights, as a man resting on average less than 3- hours a day, I don’t really have a knack for dates, calendars. The only thing concerns me is ship-shape and Bristol fashion watch… Screw the science fiction, I’m the real time traveler. It has all began at the age of twelve. After non-stop headaches, brain-screwing dizziness, late night anxiety, severe kind of insomnia, increased confusion and restlessness – parents decided it was high time to see a doctor, overall check-up and all.

At first, hakim* Nizami (doctor in Azeri) sought it was something natural - biological transition of adolescence he said. Hundred manats *(national currency of Azerbaijan) goes into the left pocket of his white uniform, he writes down God knows what medication and issue is fixed; at least for my billionaire father who thought he had fulfilled his parental borj * (duty – in Azeri) with dignity. But later pains won’t stop. I become more aggressive toward my fellow students at prestigious foreign languages gymnasium in Mardakan, densly populated resort town 40 km to the east of capital city Baku, I even dared to attack my father for giving me some kind a slight pal punch on my shoulder. Did I already mentioned that my father used to be billionaire. ‘Cos with my condition I frequently have difficulties remembering things.

Man! What a life. At late afternoons and evenings I become more agitated, more suspicious and upset. Sometimes it get worse, with me hallucinating, losing my orientation.

The results of MRI examination totally shocked my father and mother, who already pla

Money was useless piece of “ass-paper” in this matter. Expensive examinations in Berlin and Tel-Aviv were in vain as well. The only thing they recommended for alleviating my behavioral problems was to help me somehow avoid sunset, let say by cancelling axshaam yemeyi (supper), evening family events, shifting all quality time activities before sun’s down, not to allow me napping afternoons, increase indoor lighting and engage in various calming activities …But unfortunately my dad had taken the doctors call for “evasion of sunlight” literally .

He ordered dozens of fastest flight tickets for a week, designed my first worldwide travel route, to beat the sunset and somehow decrease my pains and see how it affects my condition. To his surprise, outcome was quite decent, quite positive, if you will. Until I celebrated my 16th birthday. It was the most traumatic experience of my life.

“Alzheimer's disease is a progressive condition that destroys the co

CHAPTER 2

“Strategic packer”

Thanks to daily flights, I’ve almost become a strategic packer, if you will. Stuffing my suitcase only most needful things, no liquid no toothpaste or shampoo: just underwear, 2 pairs of jeans, one blue jumper, 2 pairs of Kashmir socks , 3 T-shirts, my lucky hair comb, wireless hair clipper (by the way I’ve recently noticed that my hairs are falling massively, so in order not to look ridiculous, I completely shave my hair into a glowing bald) etc. Another trick I mastered during this time is to make sure I put identification on my luggage, so not to confuse with other suitcases after arrival, or if other dumb passenger accidentally picks my suitcase, so he can contact me by cell phone number I marked on the sticker. Sounds very much routine.

With modern airliner speed pushing its limits towards 4000 km/hour, I was able to save more day light with flights. Everything was just going pretty fine, until I encountered my first nightmare. Striking security perso

“What should we do, chief? It is already half past one PM,” –asked my personal bodyguard holding my luggage in his left hand, and staring at the board, like a sheep staring at a new gate. Long journeys made us real friends indeed, though he had always addressed me as his boss. Let me shortly visualize his character for you. Jafar is a tall man with massive body structure just like Shrek, with brown eyes, army style haircut and qoğal –shaped face, he loved to show off his God given genes for a “strong man”, he behaved “heavily” as Azeris say for a stand-up guys. But in real he was a little dumb kid hiding behind those muscles – dumb ,very decent and polite one ….I loved him for these traits like a brother I didn’t have.