my jaundiced eye

the absurdities of life

Category: alzheimers

is it now yet

is it now yet

I was shopping online for a new wall clock for our kitchen. It’s been 3:27 pm for the last two weeks and even though I know that before I even look at the damned thing I am still caught off guard every time. It’s like when I’ve used the last staple in my stapler, and get that empty click sound. I know it’s bound to happen sometime but it always irritates me to the point of wanting to crush the thing with a shovel. But back to the subject at hand, so MJE is finger walking the aisles of amazon when I come across this ad at the top of the page:

Pointells Dementia, Alzheimer’s, Memory Loss Clock

It sort of makes it sound like it’s a clock that counts down to when you will be stricken with the above afflictions. Talk about a bummer appliance. But with that provocative come on, who could resist double clicking on it just to clarify? Unless of course you are already suffering from dementia, alzheimer’s or memory problems, which obviously I am not. Am I? Well sort of, but my mental lapses, if any, are most likely the result of being a seasoned sot.

The full description of the aforementioned clock is as follows:

Pointells Extra-Large Digital Calendar Day Clock with Non-Abbreviated Day, Month & Date – Ideal Clock for the Elderly & Those Struggling with Memory Loss

Talk about a dynamite marketing strategy! Who doesn’t have some old fart or brainless wonder you need to shop for? Think how thrilled the recipient of this thoughtful gift will be when they read (in extra large type) for whom this clock was created.

Perfect for your mother-in-law.


the annual physical

annual physical

The OB&C is just back from his annual physical. I had preemptively emailed the doc to bring up the one thing I think might actually be lurking about :Alzheimer ‘s. His family is riddled with it (admittedly his mother had so little upstairs that it took a good long while to tell) and I think it might be a good thing to do what we can to put a plug in that brain drain before the tub runs dry. As my loyal readers know, the OB&C never met a personal medical problem he didn’t want to hold on to like a toddler to his pacifier. Sadly, his doc refuses to enable him and he always comes home feeling glum because he hasn’t been diagnosed with some terrible affliction. He was incredibly hopeful when he left for the appointment as he had so many possibilities for bad news: the improperly repaired (and still incredibly painful) hernia, leg cramps, free floating anxiety, dizzy spells, insomnia, tingling in his hands, skin carbuncles, toenail fungus and a tick embedded in his left buttock. Surely the probability that the doc might find something seriously wrong, given all of those maladies had to be a statistical slam dunk.

Instead he returned home, despondent. Dr. Lafeet once again told him that was in excellent health except that he is overweight, doesn’t exercise enough, takes way too many meds and drinks like a fish. The poor guy dragged himself through the house like a whipped dog, collapsed into his armchair, and directed me to open a bottle of red wine tout de suite and pour him a whomping glass just to get over the crushing disappointment. Good health to a hypochondriac is like sunlight to a vampire. Excruciatingly painful.

I offered to give him my breast cancer if it would make him feel any better.

remembering names?


I just read my daily email from Luminosity, a “brain training” outfit that promises to get your mind to do what it hasn’t done in years: think. They apparently are of the opinion that I am one blank stare from the alzheimer’s wing or they wouldn’t hound me every morning. Alternately it could be that they already know that I can’t remember doodlysquat from yesterday so every email is like my very first. One of their recent tips was on how to remember names. I frankly couldn’t identify my children in an airport, nor would I want to, but that’s a tale for another time. So Luminosity said that when you meet new people you should fixate on some characteristic and link that to their name, e.g. Leroy Pantyhose: really bad teeth. Vulgaria Otherwise: lousiest face lift ever!, Stanley Mattressthrasher: freakishly large nostrils. I got it. From now on I will be able to confidently extend my hand to any vaguely familiar acquaintance, match it up in my mind’s eye with my handy mnemonic of ‘aggressively unattractive.’ and cheerily chirp, “So great to see you again, “Lusitania” it’s been way too long!” you old crone.