At forty I consider myself having lived a full life. I’ve had to. I have to make peace with the idea that from here on in I am on borrowed time.
This is a journey to the end of my life. Or at least the end of my conscious participation in life. When strange symptoms began impeding my ability to live my normal life, a six year investigation began to discover I would be diagnosed with Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease. Statistics vary but more than half of people living with Parkinson’s Disease also develop a form of Dementia. When being forgetful became more than just forgetting where I put my keys I realised, this is the beginning of the end. There’s no absolute confirmation yet, doctors discuss the probability is quite high, but now has begun the next stage of medical assessment. I’m okay with forgetting who I am. I spent my whole life trying to find out who I was anyway. I’m not okay with forgetting who you are.
So here is where I’ll record snippets of my life, your life with me, and even if I don’t remember any of it I hope when I look at it, I well see somewhere in there, the person I am, the person I was or the person I was supposed to be.
I tell it how I see it. You’re entitled to your opinion. I am also entitled to tell you how stupid it may be.