It’s well known that dementia is very hereditary, especially among women.  And lately I’ve been dreaming things that are similar to my mother’s open-eye delusions.  It’s not a comforting sign.  I don’t want to write a story like Flowers for Algernon.

It’s something to think about.  How many years left do I have?  Will I get a miracle?

I already flunk the peanut butter test.  You hold one nostril and smell, and then hold the other and smell.  If you can only smell the peanut butter out of one nostril, you are more than likely in beginning stages.

This disease is terrible.