This is life.

76 ➤ Arising issues

"I remember it from college but vaguely. My professor for my neurogenetics class mentioned it just once so I don't really much about it." "Dementia is a chronic and usually persistent disorder of the mental processes caused by brain disease. Dementia in most cases can produce naturally as you age but even if so, you're unlikely to develop it if you're under 50 or maybe 60, it depends on your wellbeing. But there is a type of dementia caused by TBI, otherwise known as Traumatic Brain Injury. Perhaps even another type of dementia called CTE, Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy which is relevant to Athletes. It's progressive Tauopathy following Repetitive Head Injury. Many footballers specifically develop this condition as a result of playing too carelessly or too roughly. In a case we covered a few years ago we had a very famous footballer commit statutory rape as well as public indecency. He wasn't of sound mind and it was clear he couldn't think for himself. He was diagnosed to have dementia, we found out legitimately after he took his own life. Most athletes have so much passion that they know not of the real consequences that come with their choices. Sometimes boxers and wrestlers will obtain this. They don't bother going to the doctors to check whether or not them playing such intense sports have done damage beyond repair. With Chanel's career, it's possible that it is the cause of it."

"Has anything else happened recently that could have triggered this sooner? Any, fights that she's done lately that has evident significant damage to her head? Any concussions? Falls that include her hitting her head with full force? " Sergeant Benson asks. "I don't know...when we got out of the building I remember she fell and hit her head against a tree really hard." I mention. "But that doesn't really mean anything, you said so yourself that to find out you need to do an autopsy. And there isn't a way in hell you're going to have the chance to do one any time soon." I remind them.

"That is true, but her actions almost replicate the early symptoms of those who had the same type of behaviour that I have analysed and observed over a period of years. These symptoms include mostly memory loss, but also other factors such as impulsive behaviour, poor judgement, and difficulty with everyday tasks. I believe that as time passes more symptoms will become prominent such as slow reaction and misplacement of items. Her attention span was very broad. She changed from topic to topic quite easily." "And that's another symptom?" I ask. "Yes, it is. Not only difficulty with everyday tasks but also ongoing intellectual development, interaction and communication. Those who shared symptoms and have passed on have been examined by coroners and specialists and have been found positive of dementia. This research has been active for years. Although it's not one hundred precent proven whilst the person is still alive I would trust it. I really would." The doctor says to me.

"I'm afraid that if I'm correct, it's only a matter of time before she won't be able to look after herself or even, complete college." He tells me. "She already has so many problems. This isn't fair on her." "I'm very sorry. I understand how close you are to her. I suggest you take her to a hospital and see what they can do. We could be wrong, or there may be something they can do to help you. They can perform some brain scans or some psychiatric evaluations, even though the results will be inconclusive it could answer questions more accurately than I already have." The doctor informs. I shake my head and open the door. "I have to go." "Please stay safe. You have my number, don't be hesitant to contact me if you need anything." I laugh as I stuff Keith's drawing into my handbag. "I don't need anything from you anymore and I doubt you need anything else from me, so no. I don't think I need to call you." I leave the building in a sour mood and take a taxi back to my apartment. Even though it's been cleaned, I still feel unsafe. I feel paranoid of the thoughts I allow myself to have so I call Jason out of impulse. I don't even bother waiting for him to say hello.

"Can you come over?" I waited for an answer but all I could hear was his steady breathing. "Why?" He asks. "I want somebody to talk to." "I'm in the middle of work and it really is a pain to move, right now. I'd rather stay here." I become disheartened when he says so. "But you can come over to my penthouse if you would like." I nod subconsciously. "Okay um, text me the address and I'll be there soon. Thanks." He tells me goodbye before hanging up. Moments pass before my phone dings and I bring my handbag with me before closing the door behind myself and taking the elevator. I get to the lobby and exit it, calling for another taxi after learning that Jason's penthouse was almost 20 miles away. 19.5 miles, to be exact. I wouldn't walk that type of distance on any day, let alone while my leg and other body parts are recovering.