Visiting
family in Napa CA
I’m going to be driving to the San Francisco airport
to pick up Kai, Karin and Gabriel who will be coming in around midnight. I’ve become somewhat anxious: Am I in good
enough condition to be making such a drive over California freeways at
midnight? I sent an email to my
neurologist who was fairly reassuring that—at this stage in the illness, before
there’s even a formal diagnosis of dementia—I’m probably okay. Waiting to make a mistake before I give up
doing the books for Eighth Day is one thing; waitijng to make a mistake driving
until I give it up is quite another.
Although it hasn’t made a big difference yet, I’ve begun
trying to pay very explicit attention to where I put things. I need to make a mental note when I put
things down or have a specific, routine place for things where things belong. It’s a little aid to help me compensate for
what I cannot do. (When I was an intern
at St Mary’s in Duluth, all of us carried around a “peripheral brain” that contained
details about drugs, procedures, evaluations and so on. This is just an extension of that concept
into a new situation.)
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