esrosedotblog

One of the fears of old age is the worry about dementia.

From time to time some event will occur which keys me off. One category of these involves forgetfulness.

Now, I have not yet forgotten how to get home although that did happen once when I got lost in downtime Palm Springs. That was a few years ago. Nothing since.

As a rule I do not forget where my stuff is. My glasses for example. This is because I put them all over the house. When I have only one of something then the worry about forgetting is keener.

Other than that, not so much, although my husband will get on me about it. A hint to the helpers, badgering is not helpful.

Here is a snatch of logic about it.

Forgetfulness: Knowing When to Ask for Help

There are a lot more symptoms of old age which are worrisome but I forget what they are.

Now, where was I?

Oh yes. The actual data on the subject suggests that while forgetfulness is a symptom of dementia, forgetfulness is not a warning of oncoming dementia.

I stay in touch with the latest research.

My parents were keen until the end into their eighties. No one in my greater family had the disease.

In my experience, the more prevalent symptom of aging is impatience with others and a tendency to read other people's beads.

Part of this comes from experience. When you see someone walking off a cliff one should say something. But most of it is just an opinion and an outlook. A wariness with life that younger people, including me, just do not have.

Full speed ahead is not so much on the menu any more. Besides, I would rather sit and read or do the blog or something else. Water the garden.

I guess dementia is like insanity. People who have it don't know they do. A more or less blissful state I suppose. But please god don't let me get to pissing myself or walking into things. Especially not walking around with a fried egg on my head.