08/24/2025
Five years ago, at age 60, at 9 A.M. Kevin walked into the Rush Memory Clinic in Chicago and by noon walked out with a devastating diagnosis we had been dreading.
Before that, the markers of Vascular Dementia had been onsetting for several years prior to August 23, 2021.
The red flags began waving at the end of 2016: His keys, phone and sunglasses were always missing.
His temperament shifted from a lamb to a lion.
And, the top-line network TV videotape editor could no longer edit, operate a TV remote, or decipher directions while driving…even with a GPS assist.
Upon diagnosis, the neurologist told us to sell the car (we did) and get our affairs in order, which we also did, as well.
Eight-and-one-half years later, more cognitive abilities have slipped away, but 5 years ago our doc, who we no longer see, told me “this disease is terminal, Deb, put your life in order. He is going to die.”
Yes he is, as will I, and you.
But not this day.
Before my Kevin dies, Kevin is determined to live.
“Everyone dies, really, so I am not worried about that,” kevin says. “I am still thinking. I am not bothered about this now, because there is nothing I can do about it except keep living. I still know how to dance and sing , walk our dog, daily read books to Deb, and complete some chores and personal hygiene tasks. I really do not remember much, and I am losing some faces and names. But, I am living a good life, and I am grateful i am alive.”
Time is not on our side, but we are not out of time, either.
In true Monty Python form, Kev says “I am not dead yet,” and laughs.
At this juncture, living life to its fullest, whatever the hell that means, is the best we can do this day and the next, …and the next.
