"Still Alice" by Lisa Genova.

To be completely honest, Im not particularly liking this novel very much other than the ammount of connectins I can make to it with regards to my grandfathers alzheimers/dementia, so over all its just been really quite depressing and i cant seem to invest myself emotionally in the story no matter how much I try, because its pretty obvius whats going to happen in the story. anyhow heres one of the things I found myself connecting too with regards to my grandfathers sickness.

Pg 159 line 6.
"What was it called? Not mayonaisse. No it was too thick, like butter. what was its name? she pointed her butter knife at it. "John, can you pass that to me?"John handed her the tub of white butter. She spread a thick layer onto one of the bagel halves and stared at it. She knew exactly how it would taste, and that she liked it,but she couldn't bring herself to bite int it untill she could tell heself its name. Lydia watched her mother studying her bagel. "Cream cheese Mom". Right. Cream cheese. thank you, Lydia."

This passage reminds me of my grandfather, because he also knows what certain things are,
but will forget what their called such as calling snow white stuff. I suppose this isn't quite as
horrible as it will be when he starts forgetting who I am, but it's still very depressing as its
innevitable that it's only going to get worse.