So the experts have now nailed a proper distinction between the onset of dementia and the normal signs of growing old. Forgetting something you were told 10 minutes ago is a sign of dementia, according to the Alzheimer’s Society. Forgetting something you were told several months ago is normal oldster behaviour.
utting objects in strange places – like keys in a bathroom cabinet – is an indication of dementia. Misplacing stuff sometimes is normal.
Needing to concentrate a little more to keep up with conversations, or sometimes being reluctant to join in social events is normal for a senior citizen; struggling to join in conversations, difficulty in finding words, and losing interest in hobbies or friends – such are signs of dementia.
Phew! I think I just passed the test of normal, though in some cases I could be borderline. I do put objects in weird places, partly as an eccentric anti-burglar device: if they’re going to rob me of that pretty little jewelled watch, or that pricey iPad, then let me give them the trouble of having to search for it.
And I’ve also found that if you put an object in a daft place – don’t change the location, or else you’ll never find it again, yourself. The organised person adheres to the principle of “a place for everything and everything in its place”, but for those of us who dwell in barely controlled chaos, practice may be different.
Do I repeat myself sometimes? Oh yes. However, I don’t call it “repeating myself” – I call it “revisiting the situation”.
Let me repeat myself with the peerless acronym CRAFT, coined by the veteran agony-aunt Viriginia Ironside: “Can’t Remember a Flipping Thing”, (only she didn’t say “flipping”). But it is quite a useful get-out if someone presents you with some embarrassing memory from a long-ago past: “Oh CRAFT!”
Forgetting, forgetting – that’s the bane of old age, even if we are assured it is not necessarily dementia or Alzheimer’s. I got so fed up forgetting where I last put my reading glasses that I bought six cheap pairs and put one set in every room, including the loo.
The main purpose of possessing a landline phone these days seems to be to ring myself on my mobile, to discover where I last left it. Fortunately, I’m reasonably good at remembering numbers through association with historical dates, otherwise I’d have to look up my mobile number to call it.
Writing down everything in a notebook is essential. Everything. Then you have to remember where you left the notebook.
Forgetting names is a curse, and it’s especially difficult to remember them when you see people out of context – the local library assistant encountered in a dress shop, the dental nurse at a music concert. Don’t we envy the acting profession where you’re entitled to address everyone as “Darling”.
But then other people forget names too – including younger people. When I’m introduced to someone new, I have a mnemonic to help them retain my name. “Fifty per cent of Irishwomen over 50 may have some variation of the name ‘Mary’,” I tell them. “So if you address any older Irish lady as ‘Mary’, you have a 50pc chance of being right!” Corny, but the storyline “lodges” the name in the recipient’s memory – usually.
Yes, it’s a comfort that younger people do absent-minded things, too, such as purchasing something in a shop, and then forgetting to bring it home; or going upstairs to fetch something and forgetting what they came upstairs for.
There’s apparently a rational explanation for this: when you go through a “portal” – changing rooms – the brain leaves previous data behind.
Ever started reading a book, and then it dawns on you, around page 50, that you’ve read it before? (Only you can’t remember the ending, so might as well plough on.)
Ever looked up a word in a dictionary for – it seems – the tenth time, but you keep forgetting what it actually means? How often have I sought out “jejune” or “coruscating” in the dictionary pages.
For brain exercise, I try to learn two new words of French vocabulary a day: today, “procuration” (power of attorney) and “état tampon” (buffer state). I’ve learned them – but will I retain the memory?
It’s said that learning when young is like writing on stone; learning when old is like writing on water. Still, you’ve got to stick with the programme of trying. And drink gallons of coffee for synaptic stimulus.
Jesting aside, the Alzheimer’s Society has done a great job in illuminating the difference between the usual forgetfulness of the senior years, and the onset of a serious illness which benefits from early diagnosis. If symptoms are spotted earlier, people can be helped with treatment and better management.
If you’re not sure what day of the week it is, that’s normal: if you’ve lost track of the season of the year, that’s the signal for treatment.