MEMORY LOSS?

MEMORY LOSS?

A growing fear that all of us citizens who can remember black and white TV and a five cent box of Chiclets have is that of losing our memory.

Alzheimer’s, or as my salon owner sister-in-law calls it, “Oldtimers,” is a very scary disease.  My mom suffered from this disability for several years.  It did not seem like much at first but it got progressively worse each year.  I often wonder what it must have been like to wake up every morning and not know where you were or how you got there and eventually even who you are.

This disease comes at you so slowly that as we age we worry over every little forgetful thing that years earlier would not have meant a thing.  We also see our younger loved ones worry that any small forgetfulness is the onset of a bigger problem.

My SIL the editor pointed out this situation recently.  She says sometimes she doesn't know something that her son told her but she wasn't paying attention and she doesn’t want to ask her son because she knows she should know and she knows he knows that she should know and she knows that if she asks him he will think that she has forgotten what she used to know and she knows he will worry…you know. (Pause, catch your breath.)

The truth is that often when our young loved ones explain something to us we do not forget what they say; we don’t listen in the first place because we are old enough to politely listen but actually ignore stuff when we don’t give a shit.  (OK, I promise no more ridiculously long sentences.)

So to all those young worriers, relax.  We worry enough for you.  In the meantime:

If we watch the same TV show twice and don’t remember it, we probably don’t like the show and didn’t pay attention the first time because we did not give a shit.

If we forgot your birthday, we know the date; we just don’t give a shit.

If we don’t remember your telephone number, we never knew it, we just don’t care…hello... it’s on our phone.

Today is Thursday? I’m retired; the day of the week is meaningless to me and I …that’s right.

I know this is my second bowl of ice cream, I’m fat, I’m old, I don’t give a shit.

In general, if you think I am a victim of dementia, please don’t worry…well actually go ahead and worry.

I don’t give a shit.