WHEN THINGS WERE STARTING TO GO WRONG

Post number 2 - January 3rd 2023

When normal life started to get complicated

Three different people had said to me that I am simply too smart to be having cognitive issues.

Knowing that my mind is faltering is rather tough, coming to grips with it is not easy. It has and will take some work to figure this out, to figure out exactly what is happening in my head.

I have had these cognitive issue for some time now and try hard to keep the signs away from other people. It is sort of embarrassing when my mind gets so confused and I find myself doing strange things, saying strange things, talking to myself, getting disorientated or getting the dreaded shakes.

But way back I figured if I could share with trusted people that I am in a very odd spot then maybe it would mean I could be more open and not have to hide these embarrassing symptoms. My mind is not going so well and that is awkward enough without having to gloss over my little cognitive faux pas and trying to be normal.

So sharing my predicament was something I just believed could help in the awkward moments.

For whatever reason what seamed like a good idea back then sort of back fired. Telling people in the earlier days came back to bite me on the bum. Sadly nobody I spoke to thought I was serious. They simply did not take me seriously.

Meaning I would now have to just laugh it off in that moment of making a mistake and change the subject to mask my blunder. But for me I knew I was in trouble.

It was Ruth who first noticed that I might be having some issues. Nothing major, just small things that were out of character. I was stumbling over words, not being clear in delivery of a comment, forgetting things, taking time to respond, not having instant recall of events and personal info, the very things I had always been so good at getting right.

Yeah, no big deal, Father Time was hovering, I was getting older, past mid-60 and life was slowing down in many areas. For me there was nothing to see here, sure age was catching up and I was simply responding by slowing down.

However in time as Ruth would question me over these small issues it got me thinking and now I could see some tiny cracks appearing in my mind. Again, no big deal, nothing major but it was different. I laughed it off, or tried to. I had always loved a laugh, loved a joke and I was a good story teller, I got that from my dad.

Then one day I had made myself a sanga' in the kitchen at Woodcroft and without thinking when finished I put the butter in the rubbish bin instead of the fridge. I laughed out loud, it tickled me at the time, hey, it was funny. Both Ruth and I had a good laugh when I shared with her my error.

But a few days later when Ruth found my wallet in the fridge I was baffled. Had I done that? From then these odd things somehow became the norm, it certainly gave us some good laughs as I began to put items in bizarre places.

Wheelie bin day was a favourite of mine, I loved bin day. One Wednesday afternoon I was back at the house after work and I went out to the end of our cal-de-sac to bring the bins back in as I did every collection day.

Next thing I remember I was way up Montpelier street with my bin going into the driveway of some random house. It rattled me, I was lost in my own neighbourhood. Thankfully I was fairly quick in working out where I was but the fact I had no idea why I had walked the wrong way was very worrying and upsetting. I will admit to be shaken on that day.

That incident was hard to digest. Not long after that day I was having a shower one morning and as I went to turn on the water I had no idea which was the hot water tap and which was the cold water tap. I stood naked in the shower trying to figure out what to do, I simply had no idea what was what. Yeah, that is a funny thought I know, a naked 60+ bloke caring a few extra pounds and with a tummy hernia standing confused and naked in a shower not being able to work out the hot and cold taps.

But on a serious note I was scared. I could not understand what had happened. Ruth gently helped me to process what went down that day and after the shower when things settled we had yet another good laugh. Der, about the taps, not me being naked.

I was starting to be concerned for my sanity. It never occurred to me at my age that I was having cognitive problems but coupled with the wheelie-bin incident the shower morning had got to me. I was really baffled. What was I doing?

During the next few weeks it was becoming common for me to be doing odd things. One evening when it rained I found myself standing outside in the dark getting soaked but I had no recollection why I was doing that. Sure, I loved the rain, getting wet was no biggie but the fact that I had no memory of how it came about shook me. And yes, I had my clothes on.

Going back inside I was able to laugh, Ruth said, “What have you done now” so I spilled the beans and yep, we laughed out loud. What else could we do, laughing did help and maybe there is truth in the thought that a trouble shared is a troubled halved. Life had to go on

So this would then become the new normal. I would do something strange, then I would laugh, Ruth would say, “What have you done now” and together we would continue to laugh once I told of my odd behaviour.

Sometimes it was something simple that I did, like putting odd things in the fridge, or the bin. In fact if I couldn't find an item Ruth would say, “Have you looked in the fridge,” It was funny but in essence I was unravelling.

And a favourite funny banter moment for us would start with me saying, “Well that could have happened to anyone.” That soon became code for oops, John has done something odd.

And that is how it all started. I went from being Mr. Normal Bloke to be this dippsy character that created a lot of laughs with my odd antics. But thankfully we both loved a laugh and in the early days as said, it helped get us through.

As time rolled on the funny became serious and it was now not uncommon for me to put myself in danger. Physical danger. The first time I burnt myself it was scary. I was cooking burgers on the gas and instead of using the tongs to flip the burger I simply grabbed it in the hot pan without thinking and turned it by hand. Gee that pan was hot, I gave myself a nasty burn.

Having no idea why I would do that was baffling. Hey, I am no dill but here I was on this road to regularly burning myself. Doing things like picking up hot frypans by the side instead of the handle, it became a habit to pick food from inside hot pans, I would reach over the gas to get something and burn myself by touching a hot pot.

Explaining to Ruth the burns on my fingers, my hand or my arms was easy the first few times but I was getting a history of burn marks. It was becoming apparent that I was a danger to myself. Yeah, we would laugh about it and try to put a positive spin on things but wow, the burns hurt.

So Ruth banned me from cooking.

Well, not all cooking, she did not wish to starve but the ban was for my safety. Or so she said. I pushed back at first because I was embarrassed to think I was nuts and endangering myself in what looked to be a really silly way. It was not easy to process the reasons I was burning myself so often.

But the cooking ban kicked in and being realistic I was able to mostly comprehend the Ruth understanding. We did compromise in a small way, I could cook if Ruth was home but if she was out then the ban cut in. That way Ruth still got fed and I stayed safe.

Hey, I'm laughing at that comment, I am after all Jonny Oliver in the kitchen and being a wanna-be chef I regularly cook our meals, I keep Ruth well fed.

Now Ruth and I are both laughing, thankfully in the serious moments we still have fun and and as I keep saying, find a way to laugh at the situation.

Lots more happened. The mistakes became more often, not necessarily worse but more regular. Patterns developed and became entrenched, the laughing was often and the issues around this darkness of my awkward mind and antics was always the basis for the bouts of laughing.

This would be really funny if it wasn't so darn serious.

I was now well aware of my cognitive decline. Hence my initial attempt to go public with some close friends and family. But the thought to share with others what was happening for me had fallen way short of what I had hoped may happen in terms of response so I understood for now this battle would have to stay totally in-house.

That was somewhat sad but while I still functioned near normal for the most part then maybe I did not need to share with others. I could bluff my way through, be very careful particularly in company and this would buy me some time.

As long as I took life careful, put strategies in place for when the wheels fell off I guess I could work around my decline and still do the things I loved to do. Keeping it from others was something to work hard at, to master and to hide.

Yep, people were spot on, if I got it right then nobody needed to know. See how smart I am?

I will leave you now with my thought for today.

Seven days without laughter makes one week