Frontotemporal disorder

Apparently, I might have another 10 whole years of life. Perhaps longer, if I am lucky. A body with a hardening substance rattling in my skull.

I can’t imagine. I don’t want to imagine. Now, I stand in an open doorway, struggling for breath and unable to step through.

It is like in very cold or very hot days when I open the door to the house and hit the wall of heat or cold. An invisible barrier, but quite impassable. Halted by that which is not really there but effects me nevertheless. A wall of the atmosphere of that keeps me alive but I can no longer move through.

My brain hardening. No charges moving back and forth carrying information. Just plopped there getting harder and harder.

I wonder what it will feel like. I wonder if I will know. I do right now and it ain’t so grand.


One of the things I found out recently is that my frontal lobes are hardening, faster than than than they are supposed to be.

I wasn’t aware that frontal lobes hardened. I was told that it was normal.

It isn’t. I have dementia.

My son and I cried together for a bit. He went to do research and came back feeling better. It didn’t mean that I was going to be helpless soon.

I can feel it every day. It isn’t like forgetting a word or where you put your glasses or leaving something odd in the freezer.

I feel quantities leave me and I know they are gone. I don’t know what they were. My son will say something and I have no idea what he is talking about. We had spent some time discussing it the day before. I know there are holes because I come to the edge of one and feel the step into nothingness.

Completely gone.

I will be completely gone.

I will die of dehydration and starvation.

Might be for the best. I am not who I used to be. She was OK.