When Rick came home I told him what happened and asked. “Do you think I am losing my mind?”
He shook his head slowly. “Honey, don’t you dare get Alzheimer’s.”
What if I was losing my mind? This wasn’t the first time I'd spaced out. I am constantly walking into a room to get something and forget what it was I wanted. Yesterday, I forgot I was supposed to yield when I made a left turn and almost ran into another car.
If I did end up getting Alzheimer’s, I would need to prepare. First I would tell my children all those things a parent tells their children when they know it will be the last time they will have a rational conversation with them. Wait a minute; my children don’t think I am rational anyway. I may as well save my breath.
On to the next item, I would need an Alzheimer’s haircut—something easy that would look good even if I forgot how to do my hair. I would let it go white and get it cut just above the shoulders.
My next concern was eating. What if I forgot how to watch what I eat? I am an eataholic. If I didn’t control myself I’d outgrow my Alzheimer’s wardrobe in no time. Heaven help me if I had to depend on Rick or my kids to buy clothes for me. Briana and Kristjana would have me looking like a teenager and Ariana and Rick wouldn’t have a clue—or care. Garret doesn’t spend a dime on his clothes for years on end until they are in shreds and strips start falling off onto the street. He’d be fine if they just wrapped me in a holey old sheet.
Panic set in. It was time to get myself downtown, buy a thick book of crossword puzzles and get to work sharpening my brain. Maybe I should learn a new language too—and get a piano teacher.
They say that if you worry about something long enough it will happen. If that’s true I am putting Alzheimer’s out of my mind. I’ll start worrying about what I would do if I won a million dollars.