This is not the end.

I’m not usually a positive person. I say I’m not an optimist or pessimist; I’m a realist. I don’t see life through rose-colored glasses. I look whatever I face head on and come up with a plan to cope with it. I have frontotemporal degeneration. FTD is just one of many types of dementia that affect different areas of the brain. It accounts for 10-20% of dementias and generally affects people from 45-64 years of age (source below). It is not curable; there is only symptom management. It is progressive. But I realized that God was challenging my way of looking at the world. God is not done with me yet. He is going to use me, and I should be excited. Not at my diagnosis, of course, but excited to see how he will use me in the time I have left.

When I first received my diagnosis, I scoured the internet and bookstores for information on FTD. There wasn’t much. Primarily, information was directed at caregivers. This makes sense. Charting your journey with such decline is extremely difficult but so needed. I realized, this is something I can do. I can share my journey so that those on a similar path will know they are not alone, and this is not the end, it is simply another stage in their journey. I believe there is more to life than just this life. Our struggles here are a blip on the radar. There is more to life.

People with cancer talk about “fighting” cancer. This can feel empty when faced with an illness you will lose to. I don’t say this flippantly but earnestly. I will not get better. Accepting that reality is so difficult, but I am learning to accept it. I’m not afraid to die. The average life expectancy for a person after diagnosis with FTD is 7.5 years (source below). It’s not the life span I fear, it’s the deterioration that I will face. Those aren’t 7.5 good years. Already I struggle with behavioral changes and memory loss. I will lose myself to this illness. I will lose connections to those I love. I will not see my precious grandson grow up.

This is all true but it’s not the end. I will not passively stand by. I trust a mighty God who will be with me even when I lose touch with reality. He will use me to witness to His love and care. I will continue to send that message until I can’t remember how to. I will continue to speak out, serve God, and minister to others. This is not the end.

Source: :www.webmd.com/alzheimers/frontotemporal-dementia

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash