Enjoy Every Sandwich

Coco, taking a cue from Janice, deeply intones:
how are you feeling about this, Donna?

Umlaut hadn’t noticed my advanced years and
 just wants to know when brekkie will be served.

In just three measly days, on Saturday at 1AM to be all precise and shit, I will be 60, 60 years old.  Yup, I’m kinda freakin’ about this.

How in fuck’s name did I get this old? Musta happened when I wasn’t paying attention, eh? Prolly the years snuck in when I was busy taking care of me, The Amazing Bob and our herd or three of cat.

I know, I know. I should stop with the whining because, hells bells, I’ve made it this long – some folks don’t get that option.

I’m thinking specifically of Connie, the girl from my high school with dreams of Broadway stardom. No, she didn’t hit Patti LuPone or Bernadette Peters heights BUT she did OK.

At 57 she was diagnosed with Frontotemporal dementia (FTD) and at 58 she was gone, baby, gone.

Frontotemporal dementia (FTD) is a group of related conditions resulting from the progressive degeneration of the temporal and frontal lobes of the brain. These areas of the brain play a significant role in decision-making, behavioral control, emotion and language.  

In people under age 60, FTD is the most common cause of dementia and affects as many people as Alzheimer’s disease in the 45–64 age group. (source)

What are some of the early signs of Frontotemporal dementia?

* Apathy or an unwillingness to talk
* Change in personality and mood, such as depression
* Lack of inhibition or lack of social tact
* Obsessive or repetitive behavior, such as compulsively shaving or collecting items
* Unusual verbal, physical or sexual behavior
* Weight gain due to dramatic overeating 

That’s some hard motherfucking cheese, mon ami. I’m imagining what it must have been like for her to be experiencing all these changes in her mid 50s, in a profession that prizes women's youth and beauty over all else. Was she self aware enough to see that something weird was goin’ down? Did she have any idea?  She must've been scared shitless.

And how was she even diagnosed? Was she seeing a molto savvy therapist who referred her to appropriate medics?

I’m kinda all horrified about this.
I was diagnosed with Neurofibromatosis type 2 at the age of 22. Ya know, way back in the Pleistocene when giant, ferocious saber toothed kittens breakfasted on my porch.  My mother and cousin Carmel were diagnosed before me. They warned me. I went in, eyes open – knowing what I had to do if I wanted to survive. Not that I’ve been a bastion of healthy living all these years by any means BUT I knew and know what to expect. As much as I can, I’m out in front of this pesky disease. 

Carm didn’t make it to 60. My mother signed off at 84.

I’m gonna be 60 on Saturday.  I might have a whole buncha years left in me. I aim to enjoy the hell outta them.

As my cousin Gary always advises, quoting his friend Warren, enjoy every sandwich.