It all started on a day I will never forget. May 26, 1998. Everything was normal until then, but that day proved to be one I would never forget - the day my Dad first forgot.

We thought nothing of it at the time. Oh, a simple client name during a trial must have been a quick slip. But my Dad never slipped, and only later did we realize what was truly going on.

My Dad too thought it was a little strange. He had practiced his case for the last two weeks, and he forgot his client's name? Since he was only 45, he had no worries, but went to the doctor just in case.

The doctor called Dad's forgetfulness an unusual, but possible, case of extremely mild dementia, and took both a brain scan and bit of cerebrospinal fluid to check for what he called "biomarkers" of something more serious. He also checked for the presence of pre-existing vascular, metabolic, diet, or exercise issues.

I didn't know why all of this was happening. My Dad is took young, I thought wrongly, and only sometimes does he not exercise and eat right. However, deep and dark thoughts began to swirl in my mind, pondering what would happen to our family if my father DID have something wrong. It took the doctor's word to confirm the worst.

"Unfortunately, your father is going through something very serious," the doctor explained. He has, for the past decade, suffered without symptoms from MCI and contained risk factors correlating to presence of the APOE E4 gene, poor diet and exercise, as well as some vascular issues. Now, your father has mild Alzheimer's Disease (AD). He may live anywhere from 3-11 years from now, maybe even up to 20, but there is no cure.

How could this be possible doc? My father is the brightest! I refuse to believe I may lose my father so soon....

I began to tear up, scared beyond belief at this prognosis.

"AD normally is reserved for those 65 and older, and is extremely dangerous for those at that age. However, those genetic, environmental, and MCI factors have made it possible for your father. Proteins called tau and beta-amyloid have begun grouping up in his neurons and blocking pathways that form memories. I will prescribe some drugs to limit these proteins, but I am not sure what will soon happen," my doctor said gravely.

We drove home without speaking. I had to remind him where the turn to our house was. I ran to my room, crying and blaming everybody. My dad fell into a deep depression, not doing his work, eating too much, and sleeping constantly. Life was bleak.