Losing It

This past week has been a hell of a week.  I am writing about it because I presume most of you who read these posts are, like me, in the last third of your lives.  In the last year I have noticed that my memory, which has always been very sharp, is not working so well.  I forget the oddest things, ask questions several times, often don’t remember who I told what–all of which is somewhat disorienting.  I visited my daughters who live hundreds of miles away last week; one mentioned her concern about my memory loss and then sat me down for a talk that scared the hell out of me.  I wondered if it was worse and I just hadn’t noticed; what was going on?  The ‘talk’ made me feel that not only am I in the last third of life, I am falling down the rabbit hole of Alzheimers, which afflicted my dad.  My daughter got mad and so did I.  My younger daughter emailed my partner about her concerns and the whole thing blew up out of all proportion.  I had given my older daughter my doctor’s phone number, and called her when I got home as well.  The doc called me back first.  She explained that she had given me several memory tests when she saw me for my physical months before;  I passed with flying colors. I thought for a moment and said, “You asked me three questions when I arrived, and later asked me to repeat them.  I forgot one, but asked you the topic, and then I easily repeated all three.”  “Yes,” she agreed.  “I have my notes up from that appointment and that is exactly right.”  She assured me that I am not only very healthy physically for an almost 70-year-old, but that the same holds true for my mental state.  Here’s the interesting part.  She explained that I am a mental multi-tasker.  I hold many concurrent thoughts, chores, etc. in my mind, and often don’t pay full attention in a conversation; but now, I can no longer keep it all afloat and so I forget stuff.  Wow. That is exactly what I do.  She suggested that because of my age, if I can change that pattern and ‘be here now’ wherever that is, I will forget less. She also suggested that this will be difficult because it’s a life-long habit.  Boy, no kidding!  My partner had said much the same thing.  I tell him I’m going to make breakfast, see something in the den along the way that I need to take care of, set down my glasses, do what I need to do in the den, then make breakfast and by the time I’m ready to eat, forget where my glasses are.  This morning when I was getting dressed, I started thinking about this blog and what I wanted to say–and then a grin spread across my face.  ‘Here I go again!’  I concentrated on the task at hand, looking around the room, being in it, etc., put up tea water, and walked into my office.  I felt much more relaxed, and also remembered more clearly the trajectory of events that got me through the week and into this chair.  I have also realized that although I told both daughters months ago that I was concerned about memory issues and was going to speak to my doc about it, they clearly hadn’t really taken my words fully into account.  Maybe they forgot, or maybe they didn’t really know what I meant, nor did either one ask me.  The older daughter, who has seen me less over the last few years because of distance, found my forgetfulness frightening.  Her usually steel-trap-mind mom was not the same woman.  Hard to say, and to deal with, but I’m not.  I did speak to a few friends about all of this when I returned home.  One said that she and her partner often find themselves asking each other, ‘Did I ask you this already?’, etc. and then bursting into laughter.  This was very relieving.  We are all getting older, and we are all much more forgetful.  I may be more so, not because of my family history, but because of my own patterns of processing information.  I will still forget.  Changing these patterns will not be easy.  And I have to say to myself, and aloud, that I am not the same woman I was even five years ago, which is a very hard pill to swallow.  Even over this past weekend I have learned that when I forget a thought, a conversation, a plan–if I just slow myself down, sit down, and go over the sequence in my mind, I remember.  Slowing down, letting go of the stress of this whole new scenario, all of that helps.  But like a kid, I will have to learn new skills.  I’m not losing it, I’m just getting older.