I like starting the day with a clear mind and a cleared table. So far, so good. I wasn’t quite so sure though last night when I couldn’t figured out how to turn on my car’s headlights. I was so sure that it was on the same side of the lever for the wipers. It was dark. I couldn’t see very well. I opened my door a bit so the dome light would come on. Nope, not there. I was almost afraid to look on the other side. I guess I was afraid that it wouldn’t be there. Then what would I do? It sounds silly, I know.
I was afraid to look but I groped under the left side of the steering wheel. Ah, the headlight lever. Relief flooded through me. Then anxiety. Am I getting demented? I sat there in anxiety but no panic. I did some silent soothing and calming of my nerves. I just had a glitch, a slight malfunction of the moment. I took time to breathe, remembering I have had such moments before when I was much younger:
- I forgot my code for my credit card at the till shopping for groceries. I had to leave my groceries there.
- I forgot where my locker was in the change room at work. I still remembered the panic I felt not recognizing what row it was in. It did passed in a few minutes. Whew!
- I was talking to a medical resident at work. Her face got fuzzy. I wasn’t quite sure I remembered who she was. I must have looked disturbed. She said, Lily are you ok? And I said, Jackie? And it was her. I somehow managed to laugh it off.
I felt better having remembered those incidents. Then doubt crept in. I’m older now. What if it, the big A, is here? I decided that I don’t need that thought just then. I took a big slow breath, carefully backed out my car and drove safely home. I said a prayer on the way, vowing to take better care of my brain health.
So that’s why I continue to show up here – to document, to dig, to question the truth of everything. I’m clearing the debris, the useless excess. I’m looking for the light home.