Recently, for the second time in as many weeks, I forgot I had arranged (less than 72 hours earlier) to play bridge with friends. Learning bridge was my way of protecting my slightly wonky brain, in particular, my memory, from the ravishes of Parkinson’s. The irony that it should be bridge games that I forget, is not lost on me.
I had the usual excuses ready: ‘I put the wrong date in my diary’ / ‘Old age’ / ‘The menopause’ / ‘Too many things to do, too little time’ / ‘I got distracted’. These excuses are usually accompanied by a shake of my head, raised eyebrows and some reference to the fact that I never used to forget anything.
I could blame lockdown. Life became simple. I didn’t go anywhere, I didn’t meet anyone, I didn’t have any appointments to keep and so I got out of the habit of checking my diary. I foolishly thought I could ease back into some degree of socialising without needed to diarise everything. Apparently I was wrong!
‘Bear with me, I fear I’m losing my marbles’, would have summed it up more honestly. The day before, I had spent three hours being assessed by the neuropsychology team at North Bristol NHS Trust after highlighting my cognitive defecits to my neurologist during a routine review. ‘Do you use strategies to help you remember things?’ he asked. ‘Oh, yes, absolutely’ I said ‘I have it down to a fine art. No-one else would really notice. I have lists everywhere for everything. I set reminders, sometimes multiple times for the same event. I’m great at it!’
Not so, it seems!
As the owner of a slightly wonky brain, it’s easy to worry that my cognitive decline is Parkinson’s related. So, imagine my delight to find it’s not just me who has these problems. If I express concern to friends, without fail their response is ‘me too!’ and so we share stories, laughing until our sides hurt, about our experiences of ageing, the menopause and times when our memories have failed us. I’m always reassured by these conversations, that slightly wonky brains appear to be the ‘new norm’.
That day however, by suppertime however, I found myself seeking further reassurance by trying to gauge how well I had performed in my assessment the previous day. I asked my family if they would answer the same questions. After much hilarity at my suggestion that I might be able to remember any of the questions, the family placated me and embraced a suppertime assessment. Reassuringly, they couldn’t answer many of the questions either.
So, I came to the conclusion that if my slightly wonky brain is causing me to lose my marbles, I will never be alone. I’ll be in the company of not only many of my friends but the majority of my family too!