Sunday, October 4, 2015

Misadventures of ...... What was I saying?

Cognitive decline is no laughing matter. Or it shouldn't be a laughing matter and in your heart of hearts you feel a little guilty for laughing at it. However, since the Little Old Lady in today's story is ME, feel free to laugh with a clear conscience.

Saturday found me at Costco, picking up some groceries (and free samples). As I walked to the far reaches of the parking lot where I had parked to get maximum steps, I sadly reflected that, with my Fitbit stuck on my wrist, most of my accumulated steps were not being counted due to the shopping cart that I was pushing.  Then genius struck. After I put my cart back in the cart keeper, I would get my steps in by walking over to the gas station to fill up the gas tank. Thankfully, I realized the problem with  my plan before I got too far in my journey.  I suppose I could have gotten my steps in walking back from the gas station to retrieve the forgotten car.


  1. I love this. I'm not laughing because it is the kind of thing that I would do.

  2. Dear sister, I'm not laughing either. Not because it isn't a little funny, but because it is in fact terrifying. These are the types of thoughts I have every day. I tell people all the time that my only usable skill is computers. I didn't do drugs growing up because my only real asset was my intellect (I wasn't much to look at and well, you know my personality as well as anyone.). I've always figured that my brain was the one thing I had going for me and now it betrays me. It betrays me when I leave my car at the library only to assume it's stolen the next morning. It betrays me when I get to work and don't have a shirt on because something interrupted my routine in the morning and I forgot a step. I want to think that I will remember those closest to me but I keep remembering my last conversation with Granny when she told me all about her oldest grandchild, Jonathan. I've always taken comfort in that conversation if only because she seemed to like him. Now I worry that I will look at my wife one day soon and say "I love you, what's your name?" Take heart that you are not alone. I'm not sure how much comfort it will be as I for one won't remember who all these strange people around me are.