You are about to meet Edward Dewars, a 29-year-old man who, having just lost his mother to cancer, suddenly found himself alone in his home. Edward’s house was his mothers, and, embarrassing as it may be, she had not cut the apron strings: Never had Edward lived without his mother. It is at this point when the first mystery occurred. On the day after his mother’s funeral, Edward began to lose things: car keys, cell phone, wallet.
The second mystery occurred two months later: His kitchen table became covered with mounds of unpaid bills and unopened letters. It was as if his entire household had become infected with a rare virus, masquerading under the prefix, “un”: Unswept floors, unwashed dishes, unmade bed and so on and so on.
What’s going on with Edward? Ironically, Edward’s unpaid bills did not reflect his true financial status. Confused? Sorry.
This may help: When Edward was seven, his father was killed in a plane crash. Needing distance from this tragedy, his mother sold off their entire estate and family business — Dewars Scotch Distillery — and left Scotland, for Chicago.
Living in Chicago, Edward excelled at school, and eventually earned two doctorate degrees in astronomy and physics. Viola, meet Dr. Dewars, sole heir to a whiskey fortune, and a college professor. (Let’s return to the main story).
Then, the third mystery. Take this key, yes, you, the reader, and go to Edward’s University office, snoop around and report back. Ha! Just as I suspected. His office was neat, tidy, and clean. So, how can one setting — home — be a disaster area, while another setting — work — be peachy clean?
Six months later: Edward sits nervously, waiting for his physician to give him the results of his tests. Initially, his doctor refused to run so many brain tests, arguing that since he had known Edward for 20 years and since Edward’s health was good, why do unnecessary and expensive tests? But, Edward insisted.
Waiting, Edward took out a pen and listed all the brain disorders he had researched: Tumors, strokes, seizures, Alzheimer’s, meningitis, head trauma, AIDS, Huntington’s. When his doctor entered the room, Edward gave him the list.
“Edward, I was there when your mother died of a brain tumor. So, I understand your fear of having a tumor. You don’t have a tumor. All your tests came back normal. But I’m still diagnosing you with a serious brain disorder.”
Upon hearing the words “brain disorder,” Edward’s mind snapped into fantasy. Twilight has descended, and Edward is standing on the ocean’s edge, facing the sea. He leans into the ever-blowing trade winds, as the sea breeze washes over him.
When his mind returned, Edward asked, “What’s my diagnosis?” The doctor replied, “You have ADD, Attention Deficit Disorder.” Gasping, Edward yelled, “that’s not even on my list!” Handing him a card, his doctor said, “I’m referring you to a specialist.”
ADD Doctor: Edward began: “I need help in putting all the puzzle pieces of my life back together.”
“Edward, please list each piece.”
“OK. 1. How could I have ADD? That’s a kid’s disorder, not a serious brain disorder. 2. ADD kids fail school, I did great in school. 3. After mom died, I began to lose things and I could not organize my home. That’s not ADD, it’s more like a clinical depression. 4. If I had ADD, there would not be such a contrast between my chaotic home life, and my highly organized job life.
“Edward let’s see if this explanation puts all of the pieces back together.”
ADD is a genetic disorder caused by frontal lobe dysfunction. The frontal lobes act like a “boss,” directing, planning and motivating all activities.
Smart ADD kids who have a parent acting as a substitute pair of frontal lobes — like a prosthetic device — excel in school. When your mother died, you lost your prosthesis. That is why you plunged into chaos.
Your job is organized, due to your other surrogate frontal lobes, who goes by the name of Janice, your secretary.
ADD is a devastating disorder, and if it is not detected early, school failure, job loss, divorce, car accidents and drug/alcohol problems often occur.
Conclusion: Sitting upon the ocean’s edge, rolling waves crashed over Edward. He reached out and took the hand of his newly married wife. After learning about ADD, Edward began, with the help of his wife, to put his life back together. What is she like? Well, she is punctual, organized, structured, firm and loving. She is exactly what a prosthetic pair of frontal lobes should be.
The content of this article is for educational purposes only and should not be used as a substitute for treatment by a professional. The characters in this story are not real. Names and details have been changed to protect confidentiality.
Dr. Richard Elghammer contributes his column each week to the Journal Review.
