The Gooey, Tangly, Plaque-filled Labyrinth in my Aging Brain

In the past month I've had dozens of stories for my rambling blog take residence in my brain--usually when I'm taking a shower with no pen and paper handy. While I'm rubbing the bar of soap all over my body (well, not everywhere; I would never, ever put our shared bar of soap there, Tom. No, really I wouldn't), a really good story will appear out of nowhere. Bam! It's all there for me: Title of the story, beginning/middle/end, funny quotes, clever anecdotes and a moral to the story.  All I have to do is remember everything I've been given in the time it takes me to rinse, towel dry, and run through the house naked while I search for paper and pen. Simple, right?

WRONG!

By the time I find a piece of paper and an instrument to write with, I've lost the funny quotes, clever anecdotes, and the moral to the story. When I discover the pen I've chosen is out of ink, I still have the title and beginning sentence but the middle and end have vanished, and after I've gone through three inkless pens before finding one that works, I've lost the title and first sentence. Another great story lost in the gooey, tangly, plaque-filled labyrinth in my aging brain.

I read recently that 50% of people over eighty-five have dementia. That's sixteen plus years away, a life-time really...if you're a dog. But still, sixteen years is a very long time and time goes so slowly, so no need to worry. But then again I suspect that senility doesn't happen overnight.

 At 11:59:59 p.m. the day before your eighty-fifth birthday, you're playing chess (and winning) with your grandson, and one second later--the stroke of midnight--you're eating the pawns, hiding the Queen in your Depends, accusing the King of cheating on you, and begging little Jason to return your black and white 13" television that he stole before he was born. 

No, dementia is not a sudden, overnight occurrence. It stalks you for years. At first, it seems innocent enough: can't remember a word here and there; forget a doctor's appointment; misplace your keys. Then for it's own amusement it increases ever so slightly the intensity of its evil intent: can't remember a friend's name; forget a doctor's appointment that you remembered earlier in the day; throw your keys in the trash can. Still benign, right?

WRONG!

It's coming, honey. Can't remember the name of your favorite coffee that you've been drinking for years? At the doctor's office but can only remember one of the three things that ail you? Find yourself looking for the car keys that are in your hand? No big deal, right?

WRONG!

So why am I telling you this? You, with a goo-less, tangle-less, plaque-free brain. You, who are still young and arrogant and prideful and confident that you'll be in the 50% who won't get dementia. You, who are looking at me right now and wondering why I'm hiding green M & M's in my underwear. Well, because the red ones are carcinogenic, that's why, Smarty Pants.

So, what were we talking about? Oh, it'll come to me later. In the meantime, I'm going to take a shower and hope for another great story that I can share with you...or not.