Scrambled Egg Brain

 I had an MRI done on my brain last Friday and it comes as no surprise that there is some permanent damage, encephalopathy is the medical term, due to multiple head injuries. I was scared of the results, but not the test. I already knew there was something "wrong" with my brain. I have spent the last ten months trying to find the why/how behind the changes in my brain. I have searched high and low for a reason. There has to be a reason. Well, I think I found the reason.

 I received the results on Saturday and immediately put my online medical degree to work. I went down a rabbit hole I almost couldn't come out of. I was, and still am, distraught over the results. Even though I knew they wouldn't be good, I didn't expect anything permanent that couldn't be treated. I have been assured by some people that I have nothing to worry about...unless I see symptoms or get hit in the head again.  I would say experiencing deep depression 44 years into my life is a symptom of a bigger problem.

 I seem to be the only person taking this seriously. The doctor tells me the risk of further damage and further deterioration is low. It's higher than the average person, but still low. Friends and family tell me not to worry about it. How can I not worry about it? I have seen what dementia does to people. That is not living. That is simply waiting to die. Waiting until someone lets me die. See, humans are different than animals when it comes to death. Animals cast off the weak. Weak animals are a liability. Humans cling to life. They aren't allowed to die unless it's a tragic death or someone else decides it's time. Humans don't get to die in peace, we die in pieces. Loved ones can't let us go. It's never the right time.

 The idea that my mental capacity may decline is alarming. I suddenly feel the need to get rich quick so I can enjoy the time I have left. I know how ridiculous this sounds considering I am only 44. I'll point people to athletes that suffered from CTE. They didn't die because of old age. They died sudden, and often, tragic deaths. I am not suggesting I'll follow in their footsteps, but there is a chance and that scares me. I am not afraid of dying, I am afraid of wilting away and dying a slow and meaningless death. I don't necessarily want to go out with a bang, but I definitely don't want to go out with a whimper.