My neighbor Kathy once told me that she'd had a minor stroke, and that it probably saved her life because now she's on blood pressure medication. I asked her how she knew she had a stroke. She told me that as she was lying down for a nap, she realized that she didn't know what yellow was.
I am constantly forgetting what things are, momentarily. Easy stuff eludes me sometimes, although fortunately, it's only for the moment. I also do ditsy things, like trying to put the ice cube tray away in the oven, or putting the eggs away in the toaster oven. This morning I went to go get the serial number off the side of the new fridge so that I could apply for my rebate from the Energy Trust. I got all the way into the kitchen before I realized that the remote to the tuner that I had in my hand was not the flashlight for which I grabbed in the basket where we keep this stuff.
Steve was in the kitchen, taking a break.
"This is not the flashlight," I said, waving it.
He chuckled. "No, that's not the flashlight," he concurred.
"You are going to have a hard time knowing when I've had a stroke, you know that?" I said. "I mean, unless it's a major one, of course."
An hour or so later, he went into the kitchen to make another pot of coffee for us. I wandered through with a load of laundry in my arms.
"Bad Paula," I heard him say. Then he added, "Yeah, I am going to have a hard time telling when you've had a stroke, or you're going senile. You left the burner on."
Sure enough, I'd walked away to do other things leaving an empty frying pan on low. For about an hour. It might not have been that long had I not had a cold and could smell it, but as it was I couldn't, and the thing had been happily anodizing the remainder of breakfast onto itself.
I don't need a job- I need a keeper.