Bumped into a lady (late 30’s) on a train last night who was (against the TransPerth rules) assembling a nice non-hot curry & munching it with some rice bikkies.
Conversation landed on the curry & the ingredients for the bikkies. It turns out that she’d recently given up smoking, but was unable to stay that way. Why?
Because her husband has a variant on CJD, a nasty degenerative disease which essentially wastes away your brain cells en masse.
That sort of shook things into perspective very suddenly.
My own problems are manifold & intrusive (featuring aspects like malice, & rash (but AFAICT non-malicious) mistakes apparently made through fear) but really don’t compare with the certainty of having your loved one’s mind vanish, cell by cell, until they die a confused zombie.
On the lighter side, I was able to make the day of a lass running a perfume stand (which was driving her troppo but funded her ECU studies of forensics) by the simple expedient of buying her an ice-cream in a cup with chocolate topping & a Flake — which completely non-plussed her but was eagerly accepted & hidden away in the complexities of the stand.