Essays

Brain Fog

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I was in the middle of a quick rush through one of Carpenter Country’s department stores, hoping to get a jump on some early holiday shopping, when my brain muddled up.

First I thought: What did I want to buy?

And then, Good grief, I’m heading toward Alzheimer’s.

In truth, worry about the Big A started on Thanksgiving when I almost put the eggnog in the microwave instead of the frig.

An honest goof, I told myself, since the two appliances sit side by side. Besides, I’d caught the mistake right away.

Later that week, after I couldn’t find the scissors or the Christmas wrapping paper, I decided it was time to get really concerned–or better yet, check out the Big A health site.

There was lots of information, a list of symptoms, and finally a paragraph about how misplacing things or not being able to remember stuff was, in most cases, a normal part of aging.

In most cases! That wasn’t very positive.

Then I recalled a recent conversation I’d overheard between several guys seated behind me at a restaurant.

Guy A: So, what movie did you see on Saturday?

Guy B: I can’t remember the name, but it was a laugh a minute.

Guy C: Hey, what’s that noise?

Guy D: Ah, just my phone. I forgot to put it on vibrate.

I turned around expecting to see a bunch of geezers with forgetful minds.

And that’s when I definitely knew not every memory glitch is caused by the Big A or graceful aging.

Twenty year-olds have brain fog, too.

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