Quote from: TDoS on Mar 10, 2024, 04:11 PMDementia runs in the family (from grandfather side, got him, and 2 of his 4 kids, 3rd didn't last long enough to see if he had it), so my question right now is how to find a reasonable exit should it become apparent I'm headed that way. Quality of life has always been more important than quantity in IMHO.

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!"
― Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967

I have similar sentiments, and even still having all (well most) of my marbles still working, when I was really in pain all the time with no end in sight I definitely would have gone for euthanasia.  Unfortunately, painless assisted suicide is not legal here, and unless you have a terminal disease like stage 4 cancer, not even legal in Oregon, where Dr. Kevorkian's followers still will help you take a painless and  maybe even fun last trip to the Great Beyond dosing you up with a cocktail of Heroin and pharmaceutical Sandoz quality LSD that Timmy Leary got back in "65 to test on his Harvard student guinea pigs.  My crew of psychologists didn't experiment on my brain with acid, but there was lots of unethical research I was a lab rat for on and off for about 10 years before I finally pulled the plug on it.  The CIA still has the good stuff of course, and recently it was approved by the FDA to treat anxiety.  Supposedly just one dose can relieve you of anxiety indefinitely, which I find hard to believe.  If 1 pill cures you, where's the profit for Sandoz in that?

Without the pain though, I'm sufficiently entertained living disabled, I keep my mind occupied writing about collapse and beating the CNAs who know how to play some chess when they want to play or improve themselves.  I can't play as well as when I was 15, probably I was better when I was 10, but I still have enough functioning neurons and synaptic connection to beat most people at the game.  When I start losing, that will be a sign it's time to hang up my spurs and take the Hunter Thompson Ticket to the Great Beyond.  Despite my physical disabilities though, Alzheimers is not likely for me, parrents and grandparents lived to their 80s and died either from heart problems or emphysema from smoking. So far my lungs and ticker test OK, so  probably have 15-20 years left rolling around my room and common area of an independent senior living building, or a SNIF if I really can't handle not having 24/7 help.  I may even get to see SHTF Day arrive, when they will no dout legalize euthanasia for cripples and old folks.  This time, I hope I get the top quality Acid, Colombian Flake, and Afghanistan Poppies for my last ride.  Wash it all down with a bottle of 50 year old Glenlivet single malt scotch whiskey and free my soul from this decrepit and used up old meat package to wander the multiverse in search of another planet with a life form I can park myself in for another incarnation of RE exploring the physical world around another time.  Death is not the end, it's only the beginning for souls that can hold themselves together when freed from the meat package they are encased in for its lifetime.  My soul holds together well, although hanging out for the next 15 years with zombies may kill it for good.  I'll try to avoid that.

RE