Dementia 101

The flight that was scheduled to leave at 2:10 pm today is still sitting on the tarmac at 5:45, with me sitting in seat 4D. At 4:00 the pilot announced that we’d be getting an update at 21:30.  Because we have NO MILITARY personnel on the flight, it took several seconds for everyone to count from 12 to 21 on their fingers, and realize that we had nine fingers sticking up.  Several of the passengers started freaking out, in particular the couple behind me whom are flying with their five month-old son.  “You mean we have to sit on the plane until 9:30 tonight!” yelled the father.

“No sir,” replied the flight attendant.  “The pilot is referring to Zulu time, not military time, 21:30 in Zulu time is 5:30 pm Eastern Time.”

So, on top of recently discovering that Pluto is no longer a planet (who saw that coming?), there is apparently a third set of time being used by people living in the Zulu zone.

Quite frankly, I can barely keep it together with one set of time to manage, let alone three.  I always thought that the stories of women who get dumber as sweet-potato-1they go through menopause were an exaggeration.   No more.  I find myself constantly walking into a room, only to stop in the middle and wonder what the hell I’m doing there.  I place phone calls and by the time the person answers, I have forgotten who I was calling.  Sometimes I just pretend I have accidentally butt-dialed their number, make lots of walking noises and then hang up the phone.

I am having a hard time with words.  I can’t remember the names of people, my children, or a subject I’m trying to refer to in a sentence.  I had to look up the word “apple” in the dictionary last week because I forgot how many “p’s” to use (it is two, right?)

It now takes me three efforts to leave the house.  I’ll walk out the door and realize I don’t have my purse.  I’ll come back for my purse and forget my sunglasses.  Sometimes I go back and forth so many times that I have to pee again.  After a while Bob yells at me to just stay home because it is too painful for him to watch me trying to leave the house.

I’m not sure where this is going to end up, but if I stay on the same trajectory, in six months I am going to have the IQ of a sweet potato.

Categories: Health, Observations

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