Did It. Found Out. Now What?

So, I did the big test. And, yep, I found out. The news isn't horrible. But neither is it great. Suffice it to say, that my genetic predisposition to dementia is pretty solid. No need to gnash teeth or run to the nearest cliff, though the prospect of a new Subaru is tempting. My local bike shop owner doesn't know about this, but she was pitching the benefits of a hot, new ride -- "on sale, for you, today only" -- without knowing my vulnerable mental state. And, yes, I'll admit that the news has colored my attitude. Yesterday was like trying to stay out the swirling vortex of a black hole. I felt locked into a descent into despair. Got some perspective today though. I'm not a vegetable yet. I still have some things to do and the mental ability to do them. That's all that matters, really. I am just a vehicle for carrying a soul, after all, one whose warranty was never spelled out. No guarantees in this life. But you get a day, here and there, to live like you stole it, which you did, not knowing that it was yours all along.