Special Memory

I had the most wonderful walk down memory lane last evening, a journey I shared with the two Hispanic boys who live next door.  When I came home from walking the dogs, the boys were in the empty lot across the street and appeared to be looking for something.  When I said hello, I also asked them what they were up to--and the older of the two told me that they were looking for rocks.  Seems that they are studying rocks in his elementary school class, and he desperately wanted to find a rock so he, too, could share.  I asked them to wait just a minute and I'd show them something special. They sat down on the yard bench, looking dejected, and I went inside the house.

When I came back out, I had two rocks with me, both of which are special.  One is a perfectly formed heart, and it's even red rock on the top side.  I told the boys the story of finding the rock one day when the children, their father and I were out walking in the desert in Gold Park, up outside of 29 Palms.  My toe kicked into something, and when I looked down, there was the heart rock.  Of course I picked it up, marveled at the perfect heart, and put it into my pocket to bring home.  I told the two boys that my children were, at that time, about the same age as these boys now, so that means I've had the rock for about 40 years.  Of course, 40 years is about a century in a kid's mind, so they were suitably impressed with my story.

I told the boys that the heart is really special to me because it's a memory I share with my children, but I would let him take it to the show-and-tell his class is going to have.  He told me he'd like to take it and would take really good care of my heart-shaped rock.  Their mother called them inside, and I haven't talked to them since that time, so I don't know if he's going to take my heart-shaped rock to show-and-tell or not, but I kind of hope he does so the other children can see a natural heart formed in nature.  Maybe one day one of them will find a special rock and have a story to share with the neighborhood children.

A Gentle Reminder

It's just about 6 months since the doctor put me on Aricept for my early onset dementia. The first month, I didn't notice any significant difference in my functioning, so I went online and did some research into proactive steps I could take to slow down what is a progressive disease. I found one website that offered a supplement, called Youthful Brain, and after reading all the literature about it, I ordered a bottle to see what happens.

What happened is that the "fog" in my brain began to lift, although this could be coincidental with the Aricept kicking in.  I still have minor lapses in my cognitive functioning, but that is also considered as a normal part of brain deterioration that comes with advancing age.  I am pleased to see improvement as my fear at diagnosis was "worst case" scenario, especially after seeing my mother's deterioration during her final years.  I am healthy in all other respects to my body, so I feel that gives me a bit of an advantage in dealing with the dementia.

And then today came when … I  got up and showered, dressed, and took off for my bi-weekly appointment in Palm Springs.  I stopped and bought a coffee and an order of churros to share with my therapist, and arrived right on time to the office.  I didn't think too much of it as the clock ticked its way toward my appointment time, but when my therapist didn't come get me at my scheduled time, I was … concerned. I hoped that nothing had happened in her life to keep her from the office, but decided to sit and wait until a quarter past the hour to see if she was just held up  with an emergency.

At quarter past the hour, I walked down the hallway to her office and tried the doorknob, which was locked.  I shrugged my shoulders, decided to leave her a note, and prepared to depart.  Things happen to all of us, so I wasn't particularly concerned, but hesitated when another person came down the hallway to what I assumed was his office.  I politely asked him if my therapist had let him know that she wouldn't be in today, and he looked at me a bit confused, then told me that she never comes in on Mondays.  I responded, "But today is Tuesday and I have my regularly scheduled appointment with her."

"No," he replied, "it's Monday."

You know how your brain does that "rolodex" thing when you are confused and starts whirling through the facts and information that you store within trying to make sense of what  you are hearing? That's what happened to me.  I blurted out, "Are you sure?  I'm pretty sure it's Tuesday."

And, of course, he assured me that it's Monday. I left the office after thanking him for helping me and walked to my car feeling totally bewildered.  I backed out of my parking space, put the gear into drive and started home.  Twice on the way home I made a wrong turn and was momentarily "lost."  I was able to turn myself back around and made it home with no further issues, but I'm completely bewildered by what happened.

I'm at home and feel all "here and now," so I'm pretty sure this was just one incident that may not happen again.  I think that when I got the day of the week wrong, I just internally became a bit panicked and that caused me to make the wrong turns on the way home.  I feel present and not at all confused, but I am home and that's my safe place.  I will continue with my medication and supplement, and focus better on being present in the moment.  When it's time for my next doctor appointment, I'll be sure to include this incident in the conversation if there are any further occurrences like the one today.  One event does not make a pattern, and now that I'm aware that there can be issues, I'll be more alert and double-check what I'm doing and where I'm going.