I've made it clear to any and all who would listen (which now includes the eG community) that I absolutely will not live in any euphemistic housing (assisted living, nursing facility, independent living, memory care, etc.). The only exception would be for a post-surgery or post-injury rehab facility, with the clear expectation of returning home. As one might gather from my presence here, food is a not insignificant part of that decision. The places with the type and quality of the food I like (and need) to eat are few and far between, not to mention expensive. And even if were to luck into a place with someone like CaliPoutine as a meal planner and chef (remember that topic?), there's no guarantee it'd last. Then, of course, there's my lifelong abhorrence of anything that might involuntarily interfere with my autonomy and independence.
I feel extraordinarily fortunate that within hailing distance of 70 I still have all my teeth, most of my cognitive skills, much of my (not too gray) hair, and about half of my sanity. I also have financial stability (aided by our being way past running out of room for more cookbooks or kitchen equipment); a wife whom I love and who loves me (given a couple of my less-than-charming personality traits, sometimes I wonder how she manages it, but I'm not going to question it too closely); and a reasonably healthy body that can still play pickleball three times a week thanks to a low-carb diet, a panoply of supplements, a couple of prescription meds, and a good orthopedic surgeon and physical therapist. But should the day come when I spy incarceration -- for that's what it is -- over the next ridge, I'm outta here.