I hate Alzheimer's because, many years ago, it barged its way into my dear wife's life and began the ruthless, agonisingly slow process of squeezing the life force out of her. I hate Alzheimer's because, not only did it take away the pen with which she could write new memories but, with cold-blooded efficiency, it also began the process of erasing the memories she had already written. I hate Alzheimer's because, even as our two sons and I hugged each other, sobbing at Brenda's bedside after she had passed away, it brazenly stood there, hands held aloft saying "Don't blame me! It wasn't me that killed her - it was the pneumonia or heart problems or loss of swallow-reflex" and yet it was the Alzheimer's as surely as any drug-pusher or illegal gun-supplier is responsible. It may not have pulled the trigger but it certainly provided the weapon. I hate Alzheimer's because, if I had bought a punchbag on which to take out my frustration over the many years of Brenda's decline and even if I had knocked seven bells out of it at regular intervals and even if I had kicked and clawed and battered it again and again and again, today it would still look as unscathed and unbothered as the day I bought it. Alzheimer's would have simply shrugged it off with a cocky "Is that all you've got?" But, you know, Alzheimer's, we are going to get you. Every penny we raise, every test we do, every trial we endure, every hopeful lead we see falter and fail takes us one day nearer to making you a hideous nightmare of the past and you will no longer cast that awful shadow over mankind. I truly believe that with all my heart and we will get you. I promise.