#alzeimer

[suicidaxxx]

La importancia de la comunicacion entre las personas es algo esencial.

Isabel tiene 73 años, ella es sordamuda su pelo aun no es del todo blanco, su espiritu es como la de una joven de 21 años. Logra hacerse entender, encaja en esta sociedad enfermiza. Hace unos meses se entero que su compañero de vida tiene Demencia. El no es tan grande solo unos dos o tres años mas que ella.

Han dejado de comunicarse entre ellos, él ya no recuerda su lenguaje de señas.

La demencia suele ser generalizada. Perdemos los sentidos comunes a los cuales aprendemos a lo largo de la vida. La memoria de desvanece, es como si volvieramos a nacer. Nos olvidamos del habla, dejamos de saber como se come y para que. Perdemos la presepcion absoluda de lo que es "vivir" o "relacionarse".

No hay cura.

Un dia de estos... ya no la recordara. Verá sus fotos en su mueble y pensará ¿ quién es o quién fue?, y lo mas triste de todo esto, es que aún ella lo recuerda. ¿ Qué se hace con esa parte de la conciencia ? ¿Cómo uno olvida aún recordando?.

La demecia supuestamente tiene 6 fases entre ellas...

Pérdida de la memoria, que generalmente nota otra persona.

Dificultades para comunicarse o encontrar las palabras.

Dificultad con las habilidades visuales y espaciales, como perderse mientras se conduce.

Problemas para razonar o resolver problemas.

Dificultad para realizar tareas complejas.

Dificultad para planificar y organizarse.

Mala coordinación y control de los movimientos.

Confusión y desorientación.

Tuve una tia que a sus 45 años le agarro alzehimer por situaciones de la vida, a sus 40 años se entero que era adoptada y que su padre biologico, que aun vivia en ese entonces... se encontra a un par de cuadras de su casa. Fue tanta su tristeza, que el alzeimer se llevo todo con ella.

Aun tengo un calido recuerdo de ella de cuando viajamos a Buenos Aires muy de vez en cuando... Eran viajes breves, mis padres no solian relacionarse mucho con sus familiares y digo familiares, porque aun hoy de grande no he tenido mucho trato con ellos.

Eran veranos los de antes, el sol partia la tierra. No recuerdo con claridad pero ambas nos encontrabamos en una carpa, me dijo que eligiera un libro de la repiza para que me leyera, ya que la ultima vez que la vi tendria aproximadamente unos 5 o 6 años. Eran libros coleccionables no recuerdo si eran Billiken o otra coleccion. Hermosa Claudia eterna seras en mi memoria. Mis padres no solian leerme, entonces disfrute mucho su lectura. El año que me entere que la diagnosticaron, se me vino encima este recuerdo de ella y yo en el verano leyendo libros sobre piratas. Simplemente sublime, como uno va olvidando ciertos detalles de la vida. Tenia miedo de que ella no me recordara. Pero algo alivio mi angustia... Mi hermana fue a verla antes que partiera, y pregunto por mi.

Se me vino a la memoria su sonrisa de oreja a oreja.

[pleasant-care-and-nurse-staffing]

Dementia is more than just memory loss—it affects thinking, emotions, and daily life.

With the right care and support, those affected can live with dignity and comfort.

Patience, love, and understanding make all the difference.

Let’s raise awareness and support those on this journey.

[skrimblo]

back with my bullshit

[aconites]

hey, sorry i haven’t made a return to indie like i wanted to. my mental health has been really bad lately and earlier this week my doctor put me on a sick leave at work until september. on top of that, my grandmother was moved to palliative care on tuesday and by wednesday night she was in a semi-coma. late last night she passed away after a long battle with alzheimer’s. since she’s from out of town, im heading there tomorrow with my family for the wake and the funeral and im only coming back on wednesday. im not sure when ill be logging on but i will keep those i reached out to / started plotting with updated. 🤍

[felinefaytale2]

Some days are harder than others. This is one of the hard ones. Mom said goodbye to Angelina today. She's been on heart meds and starting last night had significant issues breathing and difficulty walking. I called her vet this morning and they said to bring her in. Known issues were her heart and arthritis, they did an ultrasound and it showed a large mass in her abdomen. Mom made the decision and we said our goodbyes. She is over the rainbow bridge now and getting all sorts of treats from Dad and making all sorts of friends with the four footers who crossed before her. ❤️🐾🌈💔

The hard part is that Mom has Alzeimers. She will relive this heartache several times. It won't be long before she asks me if all the dogs are in, or where's Angie, and I will have to tell her again. :( She is still thinking there is more than one dog in the house even though Tyler has been gone for over four years.

[shelbystales]

Best Aid - Part Five

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.

Warning: swearing,

A/N:  Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot thank you very much. Tell me if you ant me to tone down the medical stuff.

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You were on your way to your brother's house to pick up your mom. You managed to buy a car, not with the help of insurance, of course.

"Hey, momma," you greeted her with open arms as she walked out the door with your brother, "how you doin'?" you asked, hugging her.

"Good, my love," she replied with a smile. She seemed well, with rosy cheeks and wearing a cute blue floral dress.

"What's up?" you greeted your brother with a hug, "how's everything?"

"All good. She's feeling a bit fancy today. Keeps insisting she's going on a date," he shrugged, and you smiled.

"Cute. I'll bring her back in the late afternoon, alright?" you asked, and he nodded.

You and your brother aren't super close. You get along well, but you're not best friends. In fact, you're not very close to any of your siblings. Over the years, you've all gone your separate ways, naturally growing apart. It's just the way life goes if you don't make an effort.

You took your mom for a coffee at the botanical garden and took a stroll with her. She delighted in a pistachio ice cream and was enchanted by the thousands of different flowers.

She seemed to be in good spirits, with some minor memory lapses, occasionally asking where this beautiful place was, but nothing too concerning. Nothing that indicated her Alzheimer's condition was worsening. she was at the beginning of the disease, you and your siblings discovered her alzeimer less than six months ago. You quickly pulled some strings and put her on an innovative treatment at your hospital that promised to delay the effects a little. So far it seemed to work, the disease was progressing slowly.

You both sat on a bench near an artificial pond teeming with fish. You picked up some seeds from the ground and handed them to your mom to throw into the water. Each seed hitting the water and capturing the attention of the fish brought a joyful laugh from her.

Something people don't talk about much is how some elderly folks, at a certain point, become reminiscent of children. They start to live a lighter, happier, and carefree life.

"How's your life, daughter?" she surprised you with her question.

"Good," you smiled.

"When are you gonna introduce me to that boyfriend of yours?" she asked, making you laugh.

"What boyfriend?" you asked, and she didn't respond. She gazed into the horizon as if searching for the answer, but it wasn't in sight. To avoid her getting frustrated, you changed the subject, "You know, there's a guy I thought might be interesting to pursue, but I've changed my mind, Mom. Too much work," you chuckled.

"Oh yeah. Love truly is a job. It takes time and a lot of effort," she spoke, returning to her normal tone as if nothing had happened.

"I know, I don't think I'm ready for that," you said, and she smiled at you.

"We're never really ready. And that's why it's so good. Imagine being ready for everything. Life would be so monotonous... so boring," her words made more sense to you than ever.

"Momma, you're so wise, you know that?" you smiled and hugged her affectionately “I love you”

“I love you too, honey,” she said giving light taps on your back.

During lunchtime, you took her to her favorite restaurant, not that she remembered that detail. After lunch, you headed to your house, and she comfortably dozed off on your bed while watching a soap opera, Ozzy sleeping snuggled at her feet. He liked her.

Taking advantage of her nap, you grabbed your patient records and began reviewing the files of the patients scheduled for your upcoming shift, as usual.

On the other side of town, Thomas was deeply immersed in the battle against the Italian mob.

He had found himself entangled in a war that seemed to have no end in sight.

Thomas Shelby, was known for his cunning tactics and unyielding determination, and he knew how to navigate a world where loyalties shifted like sand and trust was a rare commodity.

The Italian mob, equally fierce and calculating, was proving to be a formidable adversary. One that he should fear since they had no limits.

Just this week they tried a deathly attack on his younger brother John. That didn’t go well for the mob. John pulled a Houdini act and got out of dodge. Giving Thomas a small win or rather not giving a loss.

Now Thomas had to think about his next moves, but the only thing in his head was you and your fucking safety. He had put two men to watch you at every hour, 24/7. If you ate a fly he would know, if you hiccuped he would know.

He didn’t want you to pay for his mistake. He couldn’t have that.

But there was something more to it, something more to you that he couldn’t quite understand yet. In the middle of all the chaos in his life, you felt like a piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit. And it was driving him nuts.

"Tommy," Arthur asked, stepping into his brother's office. "We're ready," he said. Tommy nodded and got up to follow his brother to the meeting room, where they were about to have a family meeting.

"Glad to see you in one piece, brother," Tommy said, embracing John.

"Me too," John replied with a smile.

"Alright," Tommy said, taking a seat. "We need to establish a few things today. First off, personal security. Everyone's already got bodyguards, I made sure of that. Don't worry, they're paid not to be seen. Also, don't leave the house without letting someone know. You can either message the family group or someone directly. The Changrettas aren't messing around, and they want our blood."

"And whose fault is that?" Polly asked confrontationally.

"You really want to go there?" Thomas asked seriously. "Because as far as I know, the death of his father worked out pretty well for you, Poll."

"It had to happen," Arthur chimed in with the facts.

The feud between the Shelbys and the Changrettas had been brewing for a long time. They were at each other's throats over territory last year, though it hadn't yet turned into an all-out war. The Changretta patriarch had been growing more brazen and greedy, pushing boundaries with each passing day.

Polly owns a five-star hotel in the city center, and on numerous occasions, he would get drunk and create scenes in the hotel lobby. And it often got to the papers and her clientele would drop like crazy for the following weeks. His fixation on her, driven by an unreciprocated affection, only intensified the animosity

Last year's territorial dispute had been a warning sign, a foreshadowing of the chaos that was about to unfold. The Changretta patriarch's audacity had only fueled the fire

But the breaking point came when he attempted to assault Lizzie, Thomas's assistant. Yes, she used to be a prostitute in the past, but that doesn't give any man the right to violate her. Besides, Lizzie has been Thomas's steady affair for years.

Polly crossed her arms defensively. "I'm not saying I'm sorry for what happened. But it could have gone another way," she retorted, her voice sharp.

"It hasn’t, Poll," Tommy replied evenly. “ We need to stay focused on what's happening now. The Changrettas are out for revenge, and they won't stop until they think they've settled the score."

"Right," Ada chimed in, her tone serious. "So what's the plan, Tommy?"

Tommy leaned back in his chair, contemplating. "We hit 'em where it hurts. We disrupt their operations, cut off their resources.”

Arthur leaned forward, his expression determined. "And we make it clear that they'll regret messing with us. We won't back down."

“How do you plan on doing that?” Polly asked, armed crossed

“We need allies” he answered

Back at your home, your mother's nap ended, and she woke up with a contented smile. You put aside your work and joined her in watching the remainder of the soap opera.

As the afternoon turned into evening, you prepared to take her back to your brother's place.

As you were dropping her off, you were invited to have dinner at your brother's house. His wife is a kind and easygoing person, sometimes even more so than he is. Spending time with them was pleasant, a change from your routine as a single woman living alone and having solitary dinners with your cat.

When you finally got home, you noticed your apartment door was open. For a brief moment, you wondered if you could have left it that way, but the voice in your head quickly dismissed that thought.

Without any desire to find out if someone was still inside, you turned on your heels and dashed back to your car. The only thing in your mind being the safety of your cat.

Doing what any normal person would, you called the police.

You quickly dialed the police and explained the situation, your heart pounding as you waited for their response. They assured you they would send officers over right away.

Standing by your car, you felt a mix of anxiety and fear, wondering what you might find inside your apartment.

Within minutes, the sound of sirens grew louder, and two police officers arrived at the scene. You explained the situation to them, your voice shaky with apprehension. They assured you that they would thoroughly check your apartment and asked you to stay outside.

As you watched them enter your apartment building, you felt a sense of unease wash over you. Moments later, they returned, confirming that there was no one inside, however, they said it seemed someone had broken in. All your things were out of place.

They said they would get the security camera's videos and find the person behind this. And they insisted you slept somewhere else.

You went back to your apartment to gather a few stuff and find Ozzy. When you walked in you were startled. Drawers were pulled open, belongings strewn across the floor, and the place that was once your sanctuary now felt like a violated space. Your pulse quickened as you realized someone had been inside, rummaging through your personal belongings.

After some searching, you found Ozzy under your stove, the poor thing was terrified.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself and ignore the rising panic. The police assured you that they would investigate the break-in thoroughly and advised you not to touch anything until they had collected evidence. "Just get what you need and leave the scene," the offcier said

Feeling a mixture of anger and vulnerability, you sat down and took it all in. You had no place to go. Yes, you could go to your brothers, but it felt like an intrusion. Feeling backed into a corner, you decided to rent a hotel room right next to the hospital. The hotel was cheap, but they had security 24/7 and cameras, which was enough for you at the moment.

The following day was intense. You had to do your rounds at the hospital but every step you took felt like you were being watched, and a sense of paranoia began to settle in. No matter where you went, the feeling of being pursued was constant, leaving you on edge.

You questioned yourself, doubting if you were blowing things out of proportion, letting the break-in get under your skin more than you should. Yet, every time you glanced over your shoulder or felt a shiver down your spine, you couldn't shake the certainty that someone was lurking out there, hidden in the shadows. It was a persistent feeling, like an itch you couldn't scratch.

As you carried on with your hospital tasks, the unease clung to you. It was as if a chunk of your normal life had been snatched away, stolen along with your peace of mind. And in your frustration, you couldn't help but lay the blame on someone: that man with those gorgeous striking sea-blue eyes. Fucking Thomas Shelby.

You cursed his name under your breath, feeling a mixture of resentment and a strange connection you couldn't quite explain. Whether or not he was truly involved, his presence had thrown your life into turmoil, first your car and now your apartment.

"Hey girl, you okay?" Jeremy asked concern etched on his face.

"Yeah, just a bit tired. A little paranoid," you replied, and he chuckled.

"Aren't we all?" he questioned, making you smile.

Jeremy had quickly become one of the most important people in your life. Your friendship was so genuine and light, something that brought you immense comfort. All you wanted was to spill the beans about what had been happening, but was it a good idea?

You soldiered on with your day and tasks, doing your best not to dwell on your life outside the hospital. By the end of the day, you felt so drained that it was as if you had worked three days straight. The truth is, when your mind is on high alert, when anxiety takes over, both your mind and body bear the brunt.

As you arrived at your hotel room and swung the door open, a man's figure seated at the foot of your bed met your eyes. With a scream, you instinctively recoiled, slamming the door shut with force. All you wanted was to run out of there, but before you could, the door swung open, revealing that the man was none other than Thomas himself.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed, pushing the door and, consequently, him. "You're gonna give me a heart attack!"

Thomas rubbed his chest, probably where you had nudged him. "You can be a real charmer, you know that?"

"Charm's not exactly my priority right now," you retorted, still reeling from the shock. Your heart is still beating a million times per second.

"What do you want?" you asked impatiently.

"Just checking up on you," he replied calmly.

"I'm great, can't you tell? Life's just great," you retorted with heavy sarcasm, slumping tiredly onto your hotel bed.

"Why didn't you tell me that someone broke into your place?" he inquired.

"Because you're the bloody reason it happened in the first place! Did that knock on the head mess up your brains? I want nothing to do with you," you stated firmly, frustration lacing your words.

"Look, I know you're angry," he began, his tone softer now. "But I'm worried about your safety. If you're being targeted, you might not be safe here. I can offer you a place to stay, at my aunt's hotel. It's secure, and you can stay there for as long as you need. No strings attached."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his unexpected offer. "I appreciate the concern," you said, your voice guarded. "But I'll figure things out on my own. I don't need your help."

He sighed his expression a mix of frustration and concern. "You're stubborn as hell, you know that?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Look, y/n. I’m not taking no for an answer. You are not safe here. It’s a fact” he said

“And why do you care?” You asked, surprised to see Ozzy climbing on top of the bed and snuggling up to you. He usually hides when people are near.

Thomas hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the cat nestled against you.

"Because I've seen what happens when someone underestimates danger," he admitted, his tone softer now. "I've lost people I cared about, and I won't let that happen again if I can help it."

You were taken aback by his candid response, his vulnerability catching you off guard. It was a glimpse into a side of him you hadn't expected. As you looked at him, his expression held a mix of genuine concern and something deeper, a hint of regret perhaps.

"You can't control everything, Thomas," you replied softly, your fingers still brushing over Ozzy's fur.

He nodded, a rueful smile touching his lips. "I know. But that doesn't mean I won't try." he took a deep breath "If not for you, then do it for the cat. He deserves safety," he said, making you chuckle.

"Low blow," you quipped, stealing a small smirk from him.

"I won't bother you. In fact, if it's what you want, I will stay as far away as I possibly can. Just please accept it," he insisted, his tone earnest.

After some thought, you eventually nodded. "I don't want to see your face."

"You won't," he replied, his voice firm as if making a promise.

“Okey” you said giving in

Unbeknownst to you, Tommy struggled to suppress his own desires. While you were seated on the hotel bed, he fought the intense urge to sweep you into his arms. To just throw you on the bed and fuck you senseless. But he knew he needed to respect your boundaries, to earn your trust before making any advances.

After your last encounter with him, he noticed he skipped a few steps. He made you terrified. He made you fear for your life, and according to you, that was the reason you kissed him. And that was not something he wanted. He wanted you to desire him as much as he did you right now.

Your current vulnerability only heightened his need to keep you safe above all else, above all his wishes, holding back his desires for a future moment when you'd be ready for him.

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[iolite-flames]

I don't have much of a ref sheet but I have this

Spare him, he has mental problems and alzeimers 🥺🥺 /j

The snake and tea are unrelated from his design

RAGH SORRY FOR IT BEING LATE BUT HE IS HERE! HOPE YOU LIKE!

I am such a busy bee with the college and stuff, but i have NOT forgotten them requests! Will try to get them done when i can! GRAH I LOVE OCS

[pleasant-care-and-nurse-staffing]

Caring for someone with dementia takes patience, empathy, and understanding. Keep communication simple and clear, create a daily routine for comfort, and engage in activities that bring joy. Don’t forget to take care of yourself too — caregiver support is essential.

At Pleasant Care & Nurse Staffing, we’re here to provide compassionate care and expert assistance for your loved ones. Let's navigate this journey together.

[hellostarposts]

Episode 66 - Held in Customs

Vincent Yang

Imprisoned by Mikaele Salesa.

Ooo a corrupt customs agent.

So the main lesson is that if your papers are good they will leave you alone.

I feel like making a show of power is a stupid decision.

“Don’t go to sleep” is such a weird threat. But I’m assuming that Vincent touched something.

Is he in a coffin?

Sentient box? I don’t know how to feel about this.

I feel like having the watch is worse then not having it.

Four days inside the box. I’m going to look up if that’s even possible.

It’s what i thought not possible to survive that long without water and food.

Assuming that the box is hungry is getting close to vore again.

Captain Luka? Lukas?

Okay so it was touching the box was indeed the catalyst for this endevour.

Handing him updated paper is a devious move Salesa.

It having only actually been 1 day is why having the watch is worse and proves my point that this man would’ve died.

Okay so, is the rich family funding illegal archeology actually Salesa? I didn’t think of him as a contender for that.

But Salesa is definitely involved now.

Ah alzeimers, a convenient plot device for preventing follow up.

Supplemental

The laptop was not worth the time it seems.

A large travel budget requested?

She kept her receipts for tax purposes.

So when do we find out that there was a method to her madness in her filing method.

Her trying to buy Lietner books is like the least surprising thing.

Gertrude was trying to be #1 shit disturber.

I refuse to call the box a pocket dimension. I refuse to really go into too much tought about it because it bored me to be honest. Is it because I have a lot going on at the moment, perhaps. Will I regret this statement when it becomes important, absolutely.

I really hope that the resonb Gertrude was trying to get her hands on Leitner books is so that others couldn’t get them. Or I supposed that was the only way she found to prevent something from happening and its what got her shot.

[sidebaxolotl]

At anyone who works as a doctor or with elderly patients--should you be correcting alzeimers/dementia patients when they say or recall things incorrectly?

[itsvalpenguin1]

oh vean que muchacho tan wapo, aqui esta mi version de eyeless jack con algunos headcanon tontos que se me iban ocurriendo asi es,el puede ser un monstruo horrible sacado del inframundo,un puberto material para tumblr sexyman o tu abuelito con alzeimer,incluso todos al mismo tiempo

[mymayjorhacks]

Alzeimer disease and Crohn now find relief from These natural remedies

 Berner Cookies weed and Backpack Boyz weed are two strains of marijuana that have been gaining popularity in the medical community for their potential to relieve symptoms of Alzheimer's and Crohn's diseases. Alzheimer's disease is a progressive brain disorder that affects memory, thinking, and behavior. Crohn's disease is a chronic inflammatory bowel disease that causes inflammation in the digestive tract. Both diseases can be debilitating and have no known cure.

However, many medical patients have reported positive effects from using Berner Cookies cannabis and Backpack Boyz weed to manage their symptoms. Reviews and testimonials from Alzheimer's patients have noted improved cognitive function, reduced anxiety, and better sleep quality. Crohn's disease patients have reported decreased inflammation, pain relief, and improved appetite.

These strains contain high levels of THC, the psychoactive compound in marijuana, which has been shown to have anti-inflammatory and neuroprotective properties. Additionally, they contain terpenes such as myrcene and limonene, which have been linked to reducing inflammation and promoting relaxation.

Overall, Berner Cookies cannabis and Backpack Boyz weed show promise in providing relief for those suffering from Alzheimer's and Crohn's diseases. However, it is important to consult with a healthcare professional before using any form of medical marijuana. v

[angryschnauzer]

As someone who has a relative with advanced alzheimers, its an awful disease.

And with regards to how someone with this condition would react to someone who is trans, its likely if the trans person looks considerably different to before transition, its likely the person with alzheimers would not even recognise them.

Alzheimers disease can manifest in so many ways, but one of the common ones is as if a computer hard drive is full, and its only saved things up until a major life/emotional event. For my father in law its when he decided to retire, about 30 years ago. He fits what he sees and hears into that timeline. When he sees my husband (his son) FIL thinks its his own brother (who sadly passed away last year). When FIL sees my son (his grandson) he thinks its his son (my husband). FIL looks at me and its almost like a 'does not compute' moment, where he doesnt recogise me and doesnt say anything so moves his attention to my hubby and son. I've been with my husband 15 years, but its all be wiped from FIL's memory.

So would a person with alzeimers misgender someone? Unlikely. They would be a new person in their life.

This isn't exclusive. Alzheimers and Dementia manifests in many different ways. Its not a one description fits all disease.

My 90yr old Irish Catholic grandpa doesn’t miss with my gender. He’s never gotten my name wrong, or my pronouns, never even faltered over it.

It’s all so natural too: son, big man, young man…

We’ve never talked about it. He’s the only one who hasn’t pushed for details. He just accepted it and carried on because it’s not a huge deal.

It’s so comforting.

[pleasant-care-and-nurse-staffing]

The Biological Causes of Dementia | Pleasant Care and Nurse Staffing

The Biological Causes of Dementia aren’t just about memory loss—it has deep biological roots. Changes in the brain, including protein buildup, vascular damage, and nerve cell degeneration, contribute to cognitive decline. Conditions like Alzheimer’s, vascular dementia, and Lewy body dementia each have distinct causes, from amyloid plaques to reduced blood flow. Genetics, inflammation, and oxidative stress also play key roles in triggering dementia. Understanding these biological factors helps in early detection and management, improving the quality of life for those affected. At Pleasant Care Health, we prioritize compassionate care and the latest insights to support individuals and families dealing with dementia. Learn more about the biological causes of dementia and how we can help at Pleasant Care Health.

[kathleen-tonn]

Lost In My Own House

By Kathleen Tonn

Some people get lost in the Everglades, the mountains or on the streets of New York. But how many get lost in their own house? It's not a rhetorical question as one might think. It happened to Neil, and it could happen to you.

The twenty-one-hundred square foot home was strategically located in a culdsac surrounded by white birch trees. The house was built facing south in order to capture as much sunlight as possible. The exterior, cedar planking blended beautifully with the surrounding foliage. The prow of the front was built to resemble that of a ski chalet. In all, Neil's home was a nook of comfort nestled in the onclave of a mountain peak.

Neil was the general contractor overseeing its construction. That was forty years ago. He, his deceased wife and two children created a happy life within the walls of "Paradise Found," the name they gave to the home.

Memories, built on a foundation of love and respect, were tucked in Neil's heart and within the contours of the solidly built house. Now, he lived alone. Alone with his memories and the workings of his memoir. Daily, he sat at his Victorian Davenport Desk to record the profound meaning of his life. For up to six hours a day, he wrote, edited and rewrote passages that depicted the love he experienced throughout his life.

There was an urgency to Neil's effort.

Eight months earlier, his fishing partner diagnosed him with Alzeimers. Doc Martin, the best trout fisherman the Rocky Mountains has ever known since the late, great Freemont Panther. No one ever caught as much trout on the Rio Grande as Doc Martin, other than the gold miner, Freemont Panther.

It was late September when Doc asked me to see him in his office. I knew he had bad news for me. A patient always has a gut instinct, a premonition of a medical condition. One might refuse to accept such naggings, but their there anyway.

I sat across from my beloved fishing buddy. "Neil, I hate to tell you this, but you have all the indications of Alzheimers." Then, he stopped talking in order to evaluate my reaction.

I looked back at Doc and said, "I know. I figured I came down with it," I quietly acknowledged. "Will I have time to finish my book?" I asked.

"I think you will be able to live independently for about a year," Doc announced. "Then, you will need help."

Before I left Doc's office, we penciled, on the calendar, our next fishing trip. Doc said, " I want us to go fishing as many times as possible before you can't stay in a boat," laughed my friend.

Well, the months past. I kept working on my book. In addition, I made preparations for a live-in, home health care worker. Neil did not intend to use those services until he finished his memoir. And, until it was blatantly obvious to him he needed help.

Later one rainy afternoon, Neil went to his basement to walk on his treadmill. Generally, he takes daily walks on Red Rocks Trading Post trail, near Morrison. Today, however, sheets of rain poured down on the thatch roofing of "Paradise Found." The swirling wind ripped through the tops of the birch trees surrounding the house.

He set the treadmill incline and timer for an hour. In the glow of his lit fireplace he walked. He was both happy and relieved. All that was left for him to write was the final chapter of his book entitled "It Might Not Have Happened."

Neil spent two years working on his manuscript. The discipline required to sit at his desk helped him deal with the death of Linda, his wife. He dedicated the book to Linda, his two sons, Kyle and Peter, and to "Paradise Found."

Neil stared into the flames and glowing embers of the field rock fireplace. Tears seeped out of his eyes. He truly lived a beautiful life he thought. He held onto the treadmill rails as he choked up bursting into deep, gutteral moans. He knew his mental faculties were slipping away. He knew it. He really knew it. And he couldn't stop weeping. It wasn't self-pity, or maybe it was.

After an hour, Neil stepped off the treadmill belt noting how the flames died down to smoldering embers. Then, Neil reached for his reading glasses that lay on a shelf near the stairwell. In doing so, he tripped on a basket and fell to his knees. After falling, he became disoriented.

Confusion seemed to sweep over him. "Where are my damned glasses?" cursed Neil. While still on his knees, he couldn't figure out where the shelf was located. In the dim lighting, Neil crawled on his hands and knees looking for both the shelf and a door he believed led to the upstairs. "Damn it, damn it," the struggling man repeated over and over. ""Where are my glasses?"