If someone "just joking," of course, implies that I'm in that group of seniors with dementia--well it's not a joke. It's a stigma and a message that that person no longer considers me competent in my skills.
Still, forgetting is funny. That urge to laugh when someone trips or falls down, can also bubble up when we witness someone forgetting. The recent "Hangover" movie is a good example of the humor triggered by someone who can't remember.
If you smoke marijuana now, or if you were a joint-smoking hippie in the 1960's-1970's like I was, memory loss is hilarious. I still remember being stoned and laughing until my sides ached at Cheech and Chong's humor on their debut album. Remember the "Dave" track? And the guy who kept forgetting his lines for an Acapulco Gold advertisement?
One of the years I had Thanksgiving dinner with my mother in the nursing home, I felt sad as I looked around the table at her and four other memory-challenged residents and thought how I'd never imagined I'd be alone in the world, spending Thanksgiving with my mother in a nursing home dining room. We were all quietly munching when one woman pointed to her piece of pumpkin pie and said, "Someone took a bite out of my pie!" Yes, I saw her take a bite of her own pie. Then another woman pointed to her pie and said, "Someone's eating my pie, too!" A few minutes later, my mother pointed at her half of a piece left and asked, "Who's eating my pie?" After a few more minutes of silence, the first woman said, "I wish whoever is eating my pie would stop!" This went on until the pieces were gone. I could only feel thankful that my friend Judy wasn't there with me. We would have had to leave the room, we would have been laughing so hard.
My friend Georgia in Lexington, Kentucky, posted a newspaper clipping with a true story on her Facebook page. In the story, an elderly woman came out of a store, walked towards her car and saw four men in it about to drive away. She drew out a gun and told them to get out of the car. They did! She got in to drive away, but her keys wouldn't fit, and she noticed items on the seat that weren't hers. Then she realized the car wasn't hers. When she found her car and drove to the police station to report her mistake, the four shaken-up guys were already there, reporting that their car had been hijacked by an old woman.
This, too, is another funny story, with elements that are so familiar! I don't carry a gun, so that part of the story isn't something I would do. But the rest of it--? When I come out of a store, I can never remember where my I parked my car. This is not a "senior moment" for me; it's been a problem throughout my adult years for numerous reasons, depending on which moment of of my adult life I was in--self-medicated or physician-medicated on meds with "amnesia" side effects, in love or getting divorced, sleepless, depressed, writing an article or song in my head, or multi-tasking.
Recently, I've figured out that I never know where my car is because the parking lot when I'm coming out of a store looks totally different than it looked when I was going in. Finding my car would be simple if I could remember to always turn back around to see where I just came from before I go inside. That new view would then be in my memory. (Yes! I have one!) Unfortunately, I'm already in the check-out lane and the bagger is asking, "Can I help you out with this?" when I remember that I forgot to look back before coming in. Then I remember all those times one of them followed me up and down the rows of cars while I looked for mine, and I grab the handle of the basket and say, "No thank you. I'll be just fine!"
My other problem with finding my car is recognizing it. It's a strange blue-green color that changes depending on the angle of the sun. The way I know it's mine is by the two little strings of beads (one given to me by my friend Estelle) hanging from my windshield mirror, which I can see glittering in the sun from far away. I'm waiting for a fender or part of the door to fall off. Then I won't have to look for the beads!
Memory does decline over the years. Spelling is a memory function, and we forget how to spell. Names are harder to grasp, too. Conversations with my friends over 50 sound like this:
Me: "Yesterday I watched a great movie about that guy who died young in the 1960's with--I forget. You know the one who made that song famous--what's the name of the song about the shark?
Friend: Yes, I know which movie you're talking about. I can't think of his name, either. I was reading a book by--uhm--you know, the author who wrote all those horror best-sellers--one was about the woman who was chained to the bedpost and the dog started trying to eat her?
Me: Yes, I know which author you're talking about, but I forget his name.
Friend: I'll let you know when I think of him. You might want to read this book.
Me: Yes. Call me if you think of it.
Here are some memory mistakes that I have made, many in the YOUNG years of my adult life! I'd love to know if you've done some of these--and what else you've done!
Have you ever--
- Forgotten that a friend was coming to visit you, and then when you answered the knock at the door, you didn't recognize her?
- Forgotten that someone was coming for dinner and you didn't have any food in the house for the meal?
- Stood outside a grocery store in front of two doors, trying to figure out which door to walk through--the IN or the OUT? (Hint: you have to know whether you're already outside or inside and then choose the opposite door!)
- Awakened in the morning with a strange man in bed next to you and couldn't remember who he was, how you got there, or where you were, including city and state?
- Been unable to recognize a dressed-up, sober acquaintance, and told him he resembled a person you knew who was bum?
- Been unable to remember the number of your motel room, and your key wouldn't unlock any of the doors?
- Spent hours searching for your glasses and when you looked in the mirror you saw them sitting up on your head?
- Spent hours looking for an object, and then decided to start looking for something else, and there was the original object?
The problem with the disease of dementia is that it robs us of our independence and our ability to think clearly enough to make wise decisions. Our personalities unravel, making it nearly impossible for anyone who isn't skilled to get us to take a bath or stop banging our heads on the wall all night. We become a liability to our friends and loved ones. At my age, the possibility of coming down with dementia becomes a serious, unfunny issue. Well--depending on who's witnessing my decline!
Four years ago, a neurologist put me through all of the medical testing and evaluations used to determine dementia diseases. The work-up included an MRI, blood work, and hours, over a period of 5 weeks, of paper/pencil tests to look for signs of the illness. I had no signs of it. I was so surprised! I'm so forgetful! And as long as someone else doesn't "joke" about the overall possibility that I have dementia, what I forget is still very funny--at least afterwards!
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