June 2014
Ashland, KY
38° 28’ 48”N, 82° 38’ 40”W
Behind the wheel, at a red light, I can see the intersections ahead and know I need to turn left at one of them. The names swirl in the fog inside my head. Which street, or is it an avenue? Who am I going to see today?
I turn and all I see are four lanes of cars headed toward me. They’re speeding up, I can tell. Horns blare and I yank the wheel left into a parking lot and I watch in the rearview as the cars rush by.
I do not remember how I got home. You would think me inebriated, but I wasn’t. I had quit drinking 14 months previously.
Cleveland Clinic
41° 28’ 8.256”N, 81° 59’ 7.429”W
I’m in a small office with my husband and a doctor. Her mouth moves, but I can’t grasp what she’s explaining. The words flow around me, but they don’t stick.
If I smile and nod, she’ll think I’m okay. But I’m not okay. Is this what dementia is like? Do I have dementia? Her expression looks stern. I am afraid to look her in the eye. Anymore, when I look at someone’s face, I see what they see and it makes me queasy.
“I don’t understand,” I blurt as my eyes fill up.
