I leave you the hook for forgetful

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Posted by: Newswalle

The oldest man in my street, Eric has hiskeys lost for the umpteenth time this week. By the time he repeated the routine, the door slowly stir to his car, opened the passenger door and turned on the light, and looked through his wallet key under the light, unhooking a random key and then slowly go back to his front door tosee if it works , the day has become night.

"Do you need help?" Screams from the other side of the road, because Eric is deaf in one ear. "No," he replied cheerfully, but across the street anyway. I always look for physical signs of degeneration, such as dirty clothes, nails or Astrong urine odor that he proposes not washed. But he is impeccable as always, with the ironed shirt, sleeves and neck clean. When we use the key to find plants for your door, I realize that the space of the house is as tidy as an official disorder. The only thing falls apart is his opinion, and the speed at which it occurs is alarming.

Until a few weeks neighbors Eric, Stan and Eve had before. They were together in the phase of very high age of life. Eric lead to 200 meters to the store to pick up your newspapers if, when it rained or when dry, with his stick he went. Stan died a few weeks and Eve was taken up in homes so that everything has changed in Eric's life. And fast.

Call this the onset of dementia. Call him immense pain. Call it alone. It's certainly not crazy. Eric is in his late 80s and in the few years that I lived on the road with him, never quite other had been with-nothing. At the age of the reasons for the loss of one's mind can be a mixture of all these things and is not surprising, but almost always annoying.

I think I lost the keys almost every time I get to my door, but I'm not old. I call my children by the cat's name, the name of my brothers. But that's just confusion, fatigue.

The mental impairment that I feel comes from the desire to try, the way my brain works really control. I have always been chaotic, always forgetful. I am rarely fully present in a room. Yes, I can do things to improve as I walk the way, but as someone who is very well organized by nature, I have to understand that it not only as a personality that can be changed. However Istill have regular fights with my personality traits: every day, all the way.

Take the key is lost: I rebuke me for being a loss when the truth is that I lost my keys, that is, if it is not on the floor of my bag together with wrapperless buffer and a half-eaten sandwich. I think that these keys will collapse from an opportunistic passers-by, who might try in the house and steal the precious things picked up key, the keys are in a bowl at the front door, as a metal soup.

But little by little, I let off the hook. I assume that everyone at some point lose your keys. I do not try, these are connected as a unique problem with people like me, the high voltage bearable to look at but difficult to deal with the chaos of life from day to day.

I always have strange ways, illogical thinking, and often had to use those strange illogical to try to solve my problems, anyway. For example, when I was nine Igot worms. My mother took me to the doctor, and I remember, it looked as if it was removed from a shelf and dusted. He scared me, even before I spoke, and was an experience that still makes me shudder.

If the worms came back, I thought I was abnormal, collectors series of bad things, and I was afraid, sent back to the old GP with cold fingers. So I did not tell anyone, and I myself a promise to wait until I was 11 when I take the bus by myself to the pharmacy in the city, made a few pills (we lived in a town with only one office to buy post office and pub).

Two years. Instead, two years have itchy bottom and a voracious appetite waited to tell my mother. Worms of their own accord, but my twisted logic not. Itis still here, but now I can see why it ask for help and if I manage not alone. You can not change personalities or behavior, but it gives me a certain empathy and understanding for others.

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