The book was written from Alice's perspective. She starts out like we all do. Misplacing our keys. A temporary moment of, "Now, where am I?" Her slide is pretty quick over the course of the book. Along the way she sees how her husband handles the situation. Or doesn't. How her children, who may or may not have the gene, take care of her.
It's lovely. The writing style. The story itself scares the shit out of me. I wonder about how I will die. I wonder if the time will come when I no longer know who I am. Or who you are.
I joke that I'm nice to my Godson and his sister so they will come visit me in the old folk's home. But the reality is, who will take care of me if or when I can no longer speak for myself?
I'll be the first to admit I have control issues. As in, I must be in control, issues. What will happen when I don't? Will I be like the character and just move sunnily along, first fighting the disease and then forgetting all about it?
Who do I give that responsibility to? When it's not really fair to expect someone to take it on at all?
This past week I've been feeling a real sense of loss-of-control. I mean, my eating. One of the things I can control. And I wasn't. I've been thinking, thinking, thinking. Trying to figure out what set me off. Then, today, it hit me. This book. My sense of not being able to control something. Behaving so that maybe someone will take over for me.
And now I am calm. Back to feeling like everything is going to be ok. Tonight I made brown rice and veggies. It tastes wonderful. Much better than the baked lays and onion dip that left a nasty taste in my mouth last night. And the night before.
I feel a sense of relief. Thank God for that.