ME: “You know. That place with all the stores in one place?”
BOB: “The Mall?”
ME: “Yeah! That’s it! I need to go to, um that store across from that burger place we like … next to um Marshalls? I think?”
BOB: “Are you talking about Ross’s?
ME: “Yup” (sigh)
BOB: “What do you need?”
BOB: “Do you know what kind?”
ME: “Yeah. Progressive. No profective. Dang. Um … the ones that don’t let the light go through the lenses. The light bounces off the lenses. I can’t remember what their called.”
BOB: “Uh, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
ME: “Uh, proactive I think they’re called. Yeah. Proactive sunglasses.”
Later at Ross’s Store
ME: “They don’t have the proactive lenses here.”
BOB: “Nope. Shall we go to Target and see if they carry them?”
Across the street at Target
ME: “See! They have a whole wall of proactive lenses!”
BOB: “These aren’t called proactive – there called polarized lenses? No wonder we couldn’t find them. You got the name wrong again. Where did you get proactive from?”
ME: “Isn’t that what I said?”
BOB: “No hun. You said proactive!” (chuckles)
ME: “Errr” (sighs) “Sorry”
BOB: “Well, do you need anything else?”
ME: “Um, that little thing that you dip in your mouth to take your temperature? What do you call that doohickey?”
BOB: “Thermometer?” (shakes head)
ME: “Yeah! That’s it. Thermometer. And I need a glass jar for tea with the spout on the front of it.”
BOB: “No. That’s a spicket.”
ME: “Oh. Okay. Well in my brain it’s a spout.”
BOB: “uh huh.”
A while later two stores over at a favorite burger café.
BOB: “What do you want to eat?”
ME: “You decide. I’m too wiped out to decide except for a strawberry Hagen Daaz milk shake.”
BOB brings the food to the table a few minutes later.
ME: “I thought I ordered a chocolate shake?”
BOB: “No you said strawberry.”
ME: “Darn. I wanted chocolate. I thought I said chocolate. (slight whine)”
BOB: “Do you want ME to change it?”
ME: “No its okay. I like strawberry too. But I so thought I said chocolate. Ugh. This brain of mine!”
After a few bites …
ME: “How’s Trudy?”
PA: “Who’s Trudy?”
ME: “You’re girlfriend.”
PA: “No. Her name is Judy. Fine.”
ME: “Who’s Judy?”
PA: “My girlfriend.”
ME: “Oh, I thought her name was Trudy. Errr… I can never remember her name correctly! Trudy. Trudy. Got it.”
PA: “No! Judy!”
ME: “Ugh. I meant Judy. It is Judy right?” (quizzical look)
PA: (laughs) “Yes. Now how long will you remember that?”
ME: “Who knows?” (smiles)
Later at home.
ME: “Can you get me my wheel?? Board?? My wheel board?”
PA: “You’re what?”
ME: “You know. That red chair I sit in and you push me. The chair wheel. No, that’s not right. Wheel box…wheel…wheel car!”
PA: “Your wheelchair?”
ME: “No that’s not right. Ugh! The red wheely thingy” (totally frustrated now)
ME: “Wheelchair? (sighs) That’s right. You’re right. Wheel chair. Wheel chair. I sit in a wheelchair. Red wheel chair. Yup! I got it. My red wheelbarrow!
PA: (shakes head as she fetches the red wheel CHAIR!
_____________________________________________________________________________________*While This is a little tongue in check, I wrote it to help show the frustration not just on my end but on those close to Me trying to figure out what it is that I am trying to recall. The cognitive disconnect – as I call it – has become much more pronounced since the chemical accident last year. Unfortunately, most of my conversations with … what did I say my PA’s name was? Rob? Or was it Deb? Never mind. You get the point!