Living with disfunction

Missed cues and public nuisance

I am overwhelmed by the least

The least of Every… Single… Thing.

As much as I struggle and strain to keep myself afloat…

I flounder and splash, gasping for the proper words, the memory, the reason I have lost whatever I have lost this time, whatever step it is that I have missed to drag me away from wherever I was trying to go, caught in the fast-flowing river of time… the time I need to find the word… find the name… find the thought I was seeking to use to explain the principle I was attempting to elaborate on or the idea I had that might clarify a an issue or explain a problem that I am having.

This time I have misplaced a thought. I was rushed… flustered when I went to do something, something that required my memory, I was bothered, in public, anxious because I was trying to problem solve something that should be relatively simple but it’s not it my case. Not anymore! This fucking disease that is eating my brain is robbing me of, not just my memory, but my ability to trouble shoot basic conundrums and issues like LOCKING MY KEYS AND WALLET INTO THE CONVENIENT LOCKERS DESIGNATED FOR JUST THIS PURPOSE.

But there are so many people around… yes they are probably concentrating on their workout… how many reps they are doing, what they’ll work on next, whether it’s lats or delts or shoulders or legs… yes, they’re concentrating on that, not on me standing in from of the rows of little lockers… sweating…, this one seems to be jammed… I can’t get the dial to turn on that one… these others are empty!

I get all my stuff into one for safe keeping and then go to do my workout but people seem unusually protective of their space today… furtive glances when I try to get past them to find space to perform a free weight routine, a minor frown if I am too close to where they are working out, a complaint if I unknowingly use a piece of equipment that they are including in their routine, even if they are not really close to it and apparently working on something else entirely.

I find myself in the larger, more open, side of the fitness centre to allow myself more space so that I might be able to relax into my routine. I’ve been working out at another, smaller, gym in my step-daughter’s building, where it’s free access, but I also feel a bit like an intruder because I don’t live in the building. But that gym is typically empty when I go to workout, apart from the odd time where there might be one other person. The neighbourhood fitness centre where I have come tonight is much larger and better equipped but it’s also much busier today. It seems every place I go to workout there’s another person circling me territorially, waiting for me to leave their space.

I manage to get my workout done… as far as I comfortably can anyway. I had considered using the steam room afterwards but I give that a pass, feeling that I’d be better off just getting home and getting some dinner in my belly.

I return to the main weight room and go to the wallet and key locker to retrieve my belongings so I can go to the change room so I can get home for dinner and a shower. I realize I am no longer sure which mini-locker I used when I came in. I go through a few that I know I had tried earlier but they are all empty. I know that all my keys and wallet and everything were in there! I can’t even get into the main locker in the change room to get my clothes if I can’t get this open.

Suddenly I feel panic tickling at my spine. I spend long enough trying various mini-lockers that I can remember trying when I came in but they’re all empty! Damn it I couldn’t have gotten robbed again! I had my backpack stolen from beneath my chair in a coffee shop shortly after I moved to the city and I lost everything in it, including some irreplaceable objects. My ID and whatnot weren’t an issue but losing the actual cash and personal items drove me crazy. I was so pissed at myself for being so vulnerable. Now this!

I keep trying to assert my capability, insisting that I am still independent and can make my way though the world safely. I don’t need a babysitter every step of my life! Not yet! And now here I am in a public facility and I can’t remember which locker my keys and valuables are in. I check a few that I can remember considering when I came in but they’re all empty. My stomach starts to feel like a yawning pit and I’m standing at the edge on the verge of falling.

I track down one of the gym attendants and she opens a few of the lockers I thought I had considered but they are all empty. I was sure I had tried at least one or two of these! The panic starts to rise, climbing my spine slowly and making my hair feel like it’s tingling. I explain my trouble as clearly as I can but, even as I say it, I realize that I am sounding like an idiot and I try to explain that I have Alzheimer’s Disease. She tries a few of the mini lockers on either side but the whole time I’m just panicking, realizing that all my insistence on my ability to manage basic tasks and outings independently are all Bullshit! I can’t even go to the gym without losing my stuff. The credit card, my keys, my ID card with the address on it so they can use it to find our apartment and use my keys to break in!

Now I’m certain that everything is stolen, in my mind I’m going through how I’m going to have to explain losing my keys and screwing up AGAIN!

The attendant goes and talks to another, more experienced facility attendant and she comes and opens the entire from of the mini lockers and I see my bag much lower down in the rows of lockers than I remembered.

“THAT’S IT,” I practically shout over the sounds of weights clanging and the snorting and heavy breathing of workout enthusiasts.

The attendant opens it to the side and asks what was in the bag and I quickly list almost every item in the bag. It’s now that the irony of my dementia stands out. I forgot that I had selected an empty locker lower down the main box after trying a few of the upper level lockers but I remembered practically every photo, card, and piece of ID in my wallet.

I am split down the middle emotionally. I am soooo glad I haven’t lost everything again but, at the same time, I have been insisting to my wife, almost on a daily basis, that I AM capable of managing brief outings and things independently. Practically demanding respect and independence to venture out on my own, that, “I don’t need to be babysat every day!” and all the expected Yadah-yadah-yadah! that an immature child would use to assert independence.

I really hate having to accept my vulnerability. I absolutely despise the fact that I actually have to fully accept that my disability has brought me down to the point where I have to accept my inability to manage things independently.

I will lose things if I am not being reminded to be careful and given suggestions.

I will get lost if I wander into neighbourhoods or areas that I’m really not familiar with. I do have my cell phone and can use GoogleMaps or the Apple equivalent to navigate but I will still make mistakes and get frustrated and worked up. And I also understand that, once I do start to get more emotional and anxious about finding my way that it will become even more difficult to make my way out of my predicament.

So, I have to stop being an asshole. I have to swallow what little of my pride that I may have still been grasping and accept that I AM DISABLED.

I knew it in theory up to now. It started to sink in a bit more the other day when I was informed, in writing, that I was able to get Handi-Dart passes and take the little mini-bus that I used to help the disabled people I was supporting in past days get rides on.

It’s all great and wonderful thinking you understand where you are in life but it’s a pretty big kick-in-the-ass when it walks up and slaps your face.