When Did I Contract CRS?

As I get older, I've noticed that my CRS* has gotten worse, although some days I wonder if that's even possible. And if it has gotten worse, how would I know? Har Har! Most days, it's not a concern since I can't remember what I forgot anyway.

I hate it when I'm trying to remember something, like the name a person I've known casually for years, and for the life of me, I cannot remember his or her name if they're not where I think they're supposed to be – like at work. As soon as I spot them, my brain starts a frustrating game of "Wheel of Fortune," where I find myself trying to buy vowels, trying to guess. What the heck is their name, my exasperated brain shouts? I know it starts with a "K" or maybe a "C." Who the heck knows? My only hope is they don't remember my name either. Then I feel a little bit better. Not much, but a little bit.

Oh, I blame it on getting older, but it's really more likely that my hard drive is full of too many useless factoids, or I don't have any interest in whatever subject matter that is being discussed. What's left of my mind tends to wander anytime someone proceeds to yammer on about something I have no interest in, i.e., the contradicting facts being bandied about with each new "BREAKING NEWS" flash that keeps interrupting my favorite shows. Can't it wait until the regular newscast? The news sources trying to beat out the other stations for the "fast-breaking" (translation: YAWN) news has gotten out of hand.

But I digress—what a shocker.

Researchers have spent countless hours and millions of dollars trying to find out why people, especially us Boomers, have failing memories. And maybe that's why they interrupt our programs. They're afraid we'll forget by suppertime.

Anyway, if the people with nothing better to do had bothered to ask us, we could have saved them a lot of time and trouble. Of course, they'd have to ask us on one of our "good" days. You know the days I'm talking about—the one where we can remember why we walked into a room. Or a day when we've remembered to change out of our pajama pants before we mosey off to the big box store.

Have you ever hopped into your car, heading out for one destination, and find yourself somewhere you didn't intend to go at that particular time? No? Me neither. LOL

CRS is not a glamorous cause. We don't get fundraisers or telethons. We don't have people calling all hours of the day or night begging for money for research that could put an end to this terrible affliction. We get no sympathy. We don't even have anyone wearing a colored ribbon or shirt, so everyone knows about our cause.

What color would we pick? For every color, there are already multiple causes. I started reading about some of them, but most were way too complicated for an everyday layperson such as myself to understand.

So, what color should we Baby Boomers pick for CRS awareness since all the good ones seem to be taken? I vote for black since it would match my mood when I can't find what I'm looking for. I'm not a persistent looker. If it's not right in front of me, I give up.

I didn't use to be this way. I really can't say when CRS caught up with me, but I do know it was a gradual process. It started at about the same time we had kids. I wonder if there could be a connection? You know you have it when you holler every one of your kids' names before you give up and holler, "Hey, you," to the nearest one. You'll definitely get it when the oldest starts to drive. It's a defense mechanism to keep us parents from losing our sanity.

To gain recognition, we CRS sufferers need to get together and form a club so we can raise awareness, IF we can remember when, where, and what time we're supposed to meet. Or who's supposed to bring the refreshments. That'd be the most important job. This would have to be assigned to the person who is the most recently diagnosed with CRS.

So, give generously to the Foundation for Sufferers of CRS and help stomp out this insidious disease. As the selfappointed secretary/treasurer/president and currently the only member of FSCRS, please send any donations directly to me. If I can remember, I might make it to a meeting with the funds. But no guarantees.

And, my fellow readers, if I've written on this subject before, I've made my point.

*Can't Remember Squat