On a recent shopping trip with my 16-year-old son he saw fit to diagnose me with Alzheimer’s disease. 16 declared his diagnosis following my increasing lack of interest on whatever it was he was talking about. The gaul.
Our friends at Wikipedia describe Alzheimer’s disease as ‘degenerative dementia’ where the sufferer is unable to acquire new memories. What I have to say now is that I haven’t lost the ability to acquire new memories, however I will admit to losing the will to acquire them, whatever they are.
I will admit to having a bad memory in as much as my brain is constantly overloaded. I have dialogue, plots, and characters developing in my head at any given time so is it any wonder I have trouble remembering my everyday mundane reality?
I must stop now and apologise profusely to my lovely husband, and darling children. I love you all dearly but I am a writer, it is in my blood and soul. I live in a world I can only share with you in pieces a world where I don’t have to remember the milk, create something for tea or remind you to do your homework and clean your room.