When my father was in his terminal year, I discussed death with him. I recall very clearly his relief that the cancer that was taking him was at least allowing him "all his marbles". Dementia in its varied forms is not like cancer. Dad saw the cancer in his pancreas as an invader. But Alzheimer's is me, unwinding, losing trust in myself, a butt of my own jokes and on bad days capable of playing hunt the slipper by myself and losing. You can't battle it, you can't be a plucky "survivor". It steals you from yourself. And I'm 60; that's supposed to be the new 40.

Not being flexible enough to dance freely.

A receding hairline.

Not to be able to do the things that you take for granted, like running up the tube steps or going somewhere under your own steam.

Well, you have to learn to say no. Certain times you have to think, all right, line in the sand. It’s a gut thing. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. I’m going to do this Beckett Play in London with Daniel Radcliffe. He said this really interesting thing about how he feels that he’s lucky enough that when he chooses a part, that he only does something that he thinks he can bring something to. I think that’s really good, if you have that choice.

Vodka.

Biggest lesson; Treat people respectfully. There's a sort of vogue, and there has been for decades now, that the director is god and the director is all knowing.

A couple of summers ago, walking through a forest illuminated by fireflies, with my man and our dogs.

Try to be the same as everybody else.

I realized, I’m not doing it for the audience; I’m doing it for me. I like it. I want to be able to see if I can still do it. I want to see if I can challenge myself. I want to have a good time. With ‘Macbeth,’ I wasn’t finished with it. It wasn’t out of my system.