I call this journey the long goodbye. Alzheimer's is a terminal disease. There is no cure, and I know where this road leads.

What keeps me awake at night isn't the destination - it's the uncertainty of the path.

The questions I live with:

• How quickly will my disease progress?

• What symptoms will emerge?

• Will Linda be able to care for me as I decline?

• Will we need professional caregiving?

• Can I stay home until the end?

• How much pain lies ahead?

• How will I navigate the depression and loss?

But the question that haunts me most - the one I already know the answer to - is: How will we pay for it all?

The answer is hard. Linda and I don't have the resources to cover the long-term medical and care expenses ahead.

Getting here

I built my life as an entrepreneur and small business owner. There were good years and lean years - a familiar story. During the successful seasons, I never had enough left over to save. I figured I'd work for decades more.

My brain had other plans.

Years ago, my short-term memory began to slip. I blamed age, stress, exhaustion - even the depression I've managed for most of my adult life. But it kept getting worse. Looking back, I realize those years of cognitive decline cost me dearly. I made poor financial and business decisions I can't undo.

When the diagnosis came - Alzheimer's disease-everything changed. We closed the business, sold our home, and moved to Chapel Hill so I could access Duke Health's specialized care.

The math that doesn't add up

Our living expenses have more than doubled. Rent here runs $2,300 a month. Without the ability to drive, I depend on Uber, grocery delivery, and local transit for appointments, shopping, and errands. Medical costs not covered by insurance keep climbing. And the professional caregiving expenses we'll eventually need, loom ahead.

Our Social Security and limited savings simply aren't enough.

How we're building a lifeline

Linda and I launched an online retail business to supplement our income. We're working hard to build it, and we believe it will thrive with your help.

I also publish two Substack newsletters. One is a daily research report (subscription-based), and the other is a blog that accepts donations from readers. Both allow me to do what I do best: think, write, and share what I'm learning.

I'm also sharing my story as a paid speaker and presenter. I have something meaningful to say about living with diagnosis, facing uncertainty, and finding courage in the midst of decline.

Your support matters

Linda and I have been blessed by the generosity of friends, family, and strangers who've stepped in since my diagnosis. Without them, I couldn't afford Duke. We simply couldn't manage it.

Now I'm asking you to join that circle of support.

Here's what you can do:

• Share the word. Tell your friends and networks about our online stores.

• Shop with us. Every purchase directly supports our care and stability.

• Subscribe. My research report offers real value-and subscriptions sustain my work.

• Donate. A contribution, any size, makes a tangible difference.

• Connect us. If you know an organization, company, or event that could benefit from my story of resilience and courage, I'd love to hear from you. Please reach out.

Your support doesn't just help us - it gives me purpose. It tells me my story matters. It tells me I'm not alone in this.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for caring.

With gratitude,

Greg