Foggy Brain Disease - Welcome to My World

Most of the dates I learned at school have gone by now, sunk beyond trace in the murky depths of my consciousness, together with all the other pieces of information for which my brain apparently had no use. Unlike my brother-in-law's brain, which records all facts, regardless of their usefulness, and still has the ability to search, categorise and reproduce them, mine is a little less inclusive.

 

Some dates, I discovered, are less definite than others. There are some dates about which even the scholars are unwilling to be specific and for these there is a curious little custom which has been developed for the purpose: the use of 'circa'. Circa is the Latin word (and therefore highly prized by scholars) for 'around' or 'approximately'. It can be denoted in short form: c., prefixed to dates of which one is unsure. So an event which happened somewhere between 1921 and 1923 might be recorded in history books as having occurred c.1922 - i.e. 1922 or thereabouts. Welcome to my world - the world of uncertainty!

 

These days I am a little unsure of most things. Suffering, as I undoubtedly do, from memory issues and pending an assessment by my local Memory Clinic which will inform me what kind of memory issue it is deemed to be, I inhabit a c.world - a world of approximation, where the facts are uncertain. Maybe it will turn out to be early onset dementia (that dreaded condition); maybe it will prove to be yet another symptom of the ME label which has been affixed to me in these last years. We shall see. Treatment may be necessary; adjustment will undoubtedly be required.

 

Much of the population, these days, is familiar with the e.world: a world of virtual reality. We are used to e.books, emails and e.newsletters. Only a select few of us (many in advanced years) inhabit the c.world of approximate reality. It is an annoying world, frustratingly limiting and socially debilitating. It has an amusing side, fortunately, but only when mixing in the kind of company where 'senior moments' are commonplace and understood. Of course, if, like me, you suffer from this kind of memory issue a little early in life, it can be somewhat less humorous when you find that your brain functions seem sometimes to be on a par with those of an 80 year old. Anyway, enough negativity for now...

 

My entry to the c.world has been gradual, only gaining a little more speed in recent months and years. Faced with the difficulties of 'downsizing' and 'de-cluttering' recently, I have joked about the desirability of reaching that point in one's mature development when memory fails and it is possible to reserve space on the shelf at home for only one book, one CD and one DVD. At that point in time I would need no more because it would be perfectly acceptable to work through each to the end and return immediately to the beginning and start again, without noticing the repetition. Black humour indeed!

 

However, now it is becoming increasingly possible to identify the seeds of such behaviour in myself, it has become more of a likelihood and less of a joke. I am perfectly capable nowadays of reading a novel through to the end without registering either the author or the title. I can watch a 'whodunnit' on the television without, at the end, knowing either who 'dunnit' or what they are supposed to have done. Somewhere in the middle I always seem to lose the plot. I am perfectly capable of reading (and understanding) the facts and figures contained in an information book but retaining almost none of it. I am well-practised at forming well-founded opinions, based on well-researched facts and figures, but reaching the end of the book, article, newspaper article or TV programme in which I found them with a grasp of only my opinions and not a single fact that brought me to these conclusions.

 

It is this kind of behaviour nowadays that begins to make life somewhat limited. The social implications for this kind of memory loss and resulting uncertainty (my c.world) are extensive. I have begun to notice a loss of confidence in social interaction with friends and colleagues. I can no longer be certain of anything! Whilst living in the Netherlands our central heating was regularly serviced by Meneer Rodin, whilst the book I am currently reading on Modernist Art describes the work of famous French sculptor, Rodenburgh ... or is that the other way round? I watched a fascinating documentary last night about a trip to Chile (or was that Peru?), starring the rather good-looking travel writer who did that series about train rides last year... well, it might have been a couple of nights ago... well maybe it was someone else who did the train rides... well, anyway he was rather nice to look at... Do you wonder why I participate less in group conversation these days? Ask me to back up my opinions on anything and I am reduced to a blubbering wreck, unable to be certain of anything and feeling totally foolish. I may well be right in what I believe, but have no way of proving it. Alternatively, I may have mistaken Rodin for Rodenburgh and be making a complete idiot of myself.

 

I am working hard on my sense of humour. No-one wants to listen to the grouses and grumbles of a chronically sick person. But I have my work cut out; this condition is hard to keep up with. It is continually running on ahead of me. Just as I think I have caught up and adjusted my store of jokes and black humour to suit, it takes another turn and I am forced to readjust my repertoire. Be patient with me, please! I'll get there in the end... if I can remember where I'm going.