I had an idea for this week's column but, as usual, I forgot it before I was able to get it down on paper, dinosaurly speaking. I don't know about y'all but I have the inane ability to forget what I'm thinking, doing, or saying while I'm in the middle of thinking, doing, or speaking. I find myself relying more and more on my grandkids to fill in the blank when I can't think of the word I want. It's bad when it's usually the five-year-old. At least they don't make fun of me like my smart-aleck kids do, the (not so) little stinkers.
Although irrelevant to my previous dilemma, I am convinced that thresholds in this house have something to do with my inability to remember why I entered a room. I wrote a column on this phenomenon a few years ago on the subject of how it is a scientific fact that thresholds make us forget why we entered a room. One of my quotes came from Natalie Wolchover, a graduate of Tufts University. According to Ms. Wolchover, psychologists at the University of Notre Dame discovered that passing through a doorway triggers what's known as an 'event boundary' in the mind, separating one set of thoughts and memories from the next, just as exiting through a doorway signals the end of a scene in a movie. Your brain files away the thoughts you had in the previous room and prepares a blank slate for the new locale. My brain is just not that organized although it definitely tends to go blank a lot.
It has to be true since I don't know how many times a day I'll get up from my comfy recliner with a destination and purpose in mind only to completely forget why in the heck I got up in the first place. My automatic reflective response is to grab a snack from the pantry or refrigerator while I mull over what I was going to do. Even if I don't remember, at least I'm well-nourished. (I heard that.) As an example, just the other day while I was putting eggs on the stove for the deviled eggs I promised to bring to the Easter dinner, I thought I'd retrieve the deviled egg carriers from the garage. I have accumulated so much cooking and baking stuff that David installed several cabinets out there for my overflow. The fact that I rarely remember what is out there is irrelevant to this story. I think.
Anyway, I headed for the garage and found myself holding open the spare refrigerator door. 'Why in the heck am I in the refrigerator?' I asked myself. I couldn't answer that question so I grabbed a diet Dr. Pepper and retraced my steps back to the stove where it immediately dawned on me–I needed the deviled egg carriers, so back out I went. Next, I put an Angel food cake in the oven. (Do I see a theme here?) I needed a cake carrier which, you guessed it, is in the garage. I found myself staring at the open pantry door waiting for the answer. It came a little quicker this time and soon I had the carrier in the sink getting the dust rinsed off.
It may be a good thing one of our granddaughters has been living with us while she attends school and works. She may end up being our ipso facto caretaker in the not-so-distant future if this inability to remember anything not written in stone (aka my iPhone's calendar) continues to be an issue and I'm sure it will. The last few years of cancer treatments in the form of chemotherapy and Keytruda have contributed greatly to my fuzzy memory. Whenever I'm asked at my appointment if I find myself more forgetful, I usually fib a little. How can I know if it's because of the treatments or just plain old age related? Come to think of it, a lot of the 'side effects' I'm supposed to report to my doctors and nurses sound just like old age is creeping in. Since I've never been this age before, how can I tell? I usually fib and say everything's fine and dandy. I won't mention how many times I've gotten in my car to head to one destination and ended up in a completely different one. It could get worse if I forget where I parked which is why I'll continue parking my car in the same area at the big box store. I don't want to be one of those people who wander up and down searching for their vehicle.
Anyway, I bet she didn't realize what she was getting herself into when we offered her free room and board. Nothing is free forever. Ha! Ha!