Last night I was writing my blog and I couldn’t find a word that I wanted to use. It was right there somewhere in the back of my brain; I could feel the word if that makes sense, but I couldn’t grasp it. I googled other words in the hope it would miraculously appear but no luck. So, I deleted the sentence and posted the blog. 10 mins later it appeared – out of nowhere. The word was ‘impressed’ a simple word how could I not find it? I re posted the blog, but it worried me, especially as it seems to be happening a lot – words eluding me. Just as worrying was when I was frantically looking for my iPhone while talking to my cousin in Israel.
“I can’t find my phone anywhere.” I said.
“Because you are talking on it,” she said.
OMG I really am losing it. Are these symptoms of dementia? My mother and 3 of her sisters had dementia
“Maybe it is because it was late at night,” said my cousin reassuringly. “Or that it had been working too hard.”
My brain has definitely not been working too hard.
“So that’s it,” she said, “it’s not been exercised enough.”
Ok so brain exercises are now top of my agenda.
Naturally I took to google. “Why can I not find my words?” Big mistake I could now have a whole host of disorders: primary progressive aphasia (PPA) – a brain disorder that robs people of their language skills. It’s degenerative and I have all the symptoms, or Delirium, Stroke, Depression, Encephalitis, Psychosis, a head injury, Brain Tumour, Metabolic/genetic disorders, Neurodegenerative conditions or just severe anxiety. You are not kidding about the severe anxiety – now that’s exactly what I have. Maybe it’s better that I don’t know. Sticking your head in the sand re medical disorders is not recommended but, on this occasion, it might just be the only way I can survive.
A long walk was required to reduce my anxiety. The dog looked hopeful. In our house you have to spell the word W A L K otherwise Izzi gets over excited. Bit like chocolate which also had to be spelled when the children were little, but they cottoned on very quickly “please can we have some C H O C” they would ask. I felt like a traitor – Izzi’s arthritis limits her to 3 x 20 minutes’ walk daily – and I needed a very long walk. I crept out of the house and looked back to see her sitting on the window seat looking forlorn. “When I get back,” I shouted hoping she understood that it meant she would get a short walk later. She looked away in dismay. And I started my walk.
All was going very well. I had Spotify, I was listening to some West Coast music and on track to find the much talked about lake. Through 3 parks and a rather convoluted woodland pathway I arrive at a beautiful lake, peaceful and full of birds including a pair of Herons. The phone rings. Could I make up a fourth in a bridge game in an hour. Remembering my agenda re brain exercise I agreed but then realised I was well over an hour from home. Turning back, I swiftly followed the muddy paths and promptly fell flat on my face in a pool of muddy water. This isn’t going very well, not only am I going to miss the game but I will probably get some horrible mud infested disorder like Bilharzia which I know you can only get in Southern Africa but we have a lot of South Africans here and who knows they could have fallen into the same mud pool as me. I arrive home, hot dishevelled, dirty and out of breath and definitely not relaxed. Izzi sat waiting patiently by the front door. “I’m ready for my short walk,” she said. I change my muddy clothes.
“Hey What you are doing,” she said, “My walk.”
“In 2 hours, I promise.”
“That’s not fair.” Of course, this is all guess work as Dr Doolittle I am not. But I do know my dog very well. She wined, she barked and then she gave up and started tormenting the cat.
But at least Mo had not been subjected to the horrors of accidently being put in the washing machine. Oscar a Burmese cat in Australia survived a 12-minute cycle in a washing machine. Apparently, its owner only realised shortly after her husband put on a wash. The poor cat had his hands on the glass as he was doing the rotations. Ahh I can actually visualise this. It took an agonising 2 minutes for all the water to drain out. And then of course you have to wait another minute for the machine to allow you to open the door. Goodness knows what that cat must have been thinking. Happy to report Oscar is fine and very soft. And Izzi did get her short walk.
Now I have to convince her that she would love to have a little sister. I have found the second dog that I want to get – a Tibetan Terrier. I met two on my walk and got the low down from their owner. Long haired, don’t need grooming and don’t shed hair. They are adorable. Just have to get Izzi on board.
It’s not unlike introducing another child into the family. I remember when I was having a particularly difficult time with my eldest child and we went for a walk. He asked me
“Was it nice when it was just me,”
I replied, “yes darling.”
“Then why did you have to ruin it by having another child.”
Imagine if your partner said, “darling I am bringing in another woman to share the house with us it doesn’t mean I don’t love you just that it would be nice to have another woman around.”
And Finally – apparently and I am quoting some random person on Facebook if you smear manure on your body it works as a deterrent to COVID19. Think I might just give this one amiss.
“Let’s be careful out there”