Today, Richard Rudolph has early-onset memory loss.
In the future, he'll probably have Alzheimer's disease, but he's not dwelling on the likelihood.
He's trying to live his life now and share it with his wife of 30 years, Alvalaine.
Richard is 61 - he'll be 62 in September - and has known at least since October that something isn't right with his brain.
"I was back to school again here at the junior college (Pueblo Community College). I don't recall all the details. I was emotional, I was confused, I had a hard time finding my way to school."
Richard refers to that day as the turning point, but Alvalaine, 70, remembers that he'd been having trouble concentrating and was stressed by writing, studying and anticipating a test at school.
"As he began to tell me about different things, I could understand it was scary for him."
Richard's confusion continued and he forgot how to reach familiar destinations like the post office. He kept talking to his wife, but as his confusion grew, he talked less because he worried that she'd take away his car keys.
Fortunately, the couple's marriage is liberally laced with humor - they already joked about his tendency to drive right by a destination: "There goes Richard," family members would say before he reappeared. "We made an agreement," Alvalaine says. "If we can just continue to use some laughter here - not ignore our other feelings - but laugh. I can't say how long it will last - I have tearful moments; I get downright angry - but we try to not get too far ahead of right now."
Right now, Richard doesn't have a formal diagnosis. He takes the Alzheimer's drug Aricept and is scheduled to see a neurologist in October. He and Alvalaine have been in contact with the local Alzheimer's Association office and met people who are living with the disease. He's volunteered to help with the annual Alzheimer's Memory Walk on Saturday. He is still working in his shop at home, still driving, still working as a distributor for a hand-cleaning product, and he's thinking about trying school again.
"I like technical things," he says. "I may start school in the alternative energy program; not because I want to work in the industry but I'm just interested. I feel if I can stay energized, be around people, that helps me. I've been a little withdrawn this past year."
His desire to be mentally and socially active must be balanced against the stress that school might trigger, his wife says. His doctor has said that such stress can accelerate the disease process.
Richard grew up in the small farming community of Crossville, Ill. After one year at Bowling Green State University, he entered the Air Force and trained as an aircraft-engine mechanic, then he attended Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Fla. He also earned FAA certification as a plane mechanic but instead of working in the airline industry, took a job with an architectural precast concrete company, which he eventually owned and operated. He and Alvalaine met at the White Chapel Church of God in Daytona and later were married. In 1993, they moved to Denver and in 2002, they moved to Pueblo. Alvalaine has two daughters from a previous marriage; the elder, who is disabled by arthritis, lives in an apartment behind their Pueblo home.
Richard's early memory loss and dementia have short-circuited the path he thought his life would follow - and he views the future differently.
"Now, I'm trying to plan for bad things. Before, I thought about going to school or getting a job."
When he first realized he was losing his memory, Richard contacted childhood friends and got in touch with his ex-wife. He visited with Alvalaine's younger daughter from Washington state and her three children, with the thought, "By the next time I see them, I might not know who they are.
"I try to avoid going there (mentally) if I can, but sometimes it comes up and gets you before you know it."
Barb Caudle, Alzheimer's Association regional director, says contacting people from one's past or who live far away is a natural instinct and a positive step for people losing their memory. She also says the Rudolphs' realistic outlook and their good sense of humor are healthy, too.
"We are beginning to bring in other young-onset memory-loss people about once a month," Caudle says. "We try to have a very informal brunch so they can talk or socialize. We might have speakers if people want them. We'd love to have more folks participate."
Richard says this contact with people in similar circumstances has helped.
"It makes me feel less alone and in the dark."
He hasn't met anyone who has advanced Alzheimer's, though, which he figures is a good thing for him.
Richard is among the 400,000 people in the United States who have early-onset memory loss; many are in their 40s or 50s. Most of the people with early-onset Alzheimer's have the common form of the disease which isn't directly linked to genes. Doctors aren't sure why the symptoms occur at an early age.
Early-onset Alzheimer's is the term given to people who are younger than 65 and diagnosed with the disease. It is different from early-stage Alzheimer's, which is the beginning phase of the illness when memory and concentration problems start to be obvious.
Rather than grieve about the major disruption in his life, Richard says he grew depressed.
"Because I have always been kind of proud of my mental ability, to think that this is the one thing I'm going to lose in a big way is like having a death in the family. I had thoughts of killing myself. I didn't want to get mean and I didn't want to be an invalid. These were the sad things I dealt with. I came to no conclusions - I'm just more peaceful with it."
Alvalaine, who has training as a spiritual counselor, says her grief probably will be ongoing.
"I don't think I've felt as much grief. He's still here. He's still pretty functional. There's been grieving, but not like his. I tell myself, 'OK, when it comes, it comes.'�"
She says she doesn't coddle her husband or excessively worry about him.
"I don't feel I need to know everything or ask a lot of questions. I don't feel ill at ease at this point. I just feel like we're doing OK right now. I happen to feel pretty peaceful - and I know that in the future my peace might be blown up.
"Some things you don't have control over. I have no control over his brain. I give him the longest rope I can and don't worry about it.
"I can't give all my energy to what will happen in the future. I only have energy for what's going on now."
She does remind him to carry a cell phone when he goes out, and she'd like him to get an ID bracelet.
The drug Richard takes doesn't necessarily make him better, but does slow down his symptoms, Caudle says.
And there currently are 36 drugs in Phase 2 or Phase 3 of clinical trials for Alzheimer's disease.
"Some of these they're trying to get on the fast track. It's very exciting," Caudle says.
Given enough time, one of the drugs might be the right one for Richard.
"I don't think there is such a thing as false hope," Alvalaine says. "Hope is hope."