Alzheimer, Staying or Leaving?

Life or death? The chicken or the egg? Which comes first and should it be our choice? Should we be allowed to decide what we want, what we feel is right for us? When is it okay, or is it ever okay to take our own life? Should we be allowed to kill ourselves before we have lost most of our physical and mental abilities to this horrific disease with no cure? Should a doctor’s assistance be an option so a foolproof and painless method can be administered? I am not sure if I can pinpoint my own answers on these controversial questions to a controversial subject.

In a detached unemotional way I can hear myself say, “yes, most definitely”, to all of the above. I want to have that choice. I want to decide. I want to choose how and when I’m going to go and I want to make this decision while I’m still capable of making it - before the disease slowly creeps in and starts eating away at my mind and destroys my memory and my language – before my ability to look after myself and my independence quietly slips away underneath the door. It’s not hard to say “yes of course”; I want the option to check out before this nasty disabling monster steals my identity and my mind.

But...what if.....what if the disease goes very slowly and I have many more years to participate in this great big play called life? I like being here. I like being up to my arm pits in the ebb and flow of life’s up’s and down’s. I like the surprises that are mine to discover around the corner each and every day.

And what if.....what if I can, if not cure it, at least control it from progressing, by keeping myself immersed in remembering through the use of the written word? And what if.....I can keep myself remembering enough so that I can still enjoy my relationship with my partner, my children, my grandchildren, with friends and with life. Then for sure I still want to be here.

If by some unfortunate chance Alzheimer showed up, I would like to have the freedom to choose to take my own life before Alzheimer squeezed the life out of me, but ironically, it is when I no longer have the ability to decide that I would want the decision to be made. When I can no longer be an active participant in life, when I can no longer do for myself or think for myself, when the “who I am” takes such a beating that I can no longer be that person, then I would want it to end.

I want to be able to make the choice now that when I have lost my “spirit” and my “self” it is time for me to go. I want to go before I become a total “nothing”. Call it pride, call it ego, call it whatever you want to call it, but I want to die a “something” and I want to be able to make that choice.

I have no doubt that I’d be kicking and screaming all the way to the parlour if Alzheimer came knocking on my door. And although I would rather take my own life than to have the culprit erase pieces of me one little bit at a time, I feel I shouldn’t have to take my life while I am still capable of participating in it. What I want is to have the right to make a decision now about how long I want to be on this journey later on and to be able to do so with the knowing that my wish will be carried through.

Alzheimer; my choice would be no thank you, but if I didn’t have a choice in having him drop by, then I think I should have the choice of when to take my leave of him.