Abstract

I have spent a good portion of my professional life studying old age as a social, cultural, and economic problem. I had not, however, paid much attention to my own old age, creeping stealthily up on me. What began as a whisper in my early 80s became, by my 87th birthday this year, a loud clamor—insisting on being noticed and accelerating at a rapid rate. It is now obvious to myself and others close to me that I am falling apart, mainly my body, but likely my mind also. My future is unclear.I had a hazy notion from my earlier research that something like this could happen to me, but larger interests pushed it aside. Then a new ingredient showed up. Beginning about five months ago, after a...