It happens a lot: I halt in mid-sentence; a word or a name that a split second ago was part of a stream of words is now trapped in an inaccessible recess of my brain. Sometimes the errant word returns, sometimes it doesn’t, until perhaps days later when it is no longer needed.
I don’t know too many people to remember; I don’t do too many things to forget or remember whether or not I did them. I don’t have a stressful life undermining my ability to recall things. I have an even-tempered husband, and friends who understand why it’s difficult to find the energy to spend time with them. I have a stressed system—stressed by pain, sleep that consistently fails to refresh, and anxiety. Thirty years of living with fibromyalgia has exacted a serious toll.
I went looking for a book I’d seen at Amazon, a book about fibro-fog. I thought it would describe the actual condition and presentations of the disrupted thinking and memory that affects many people with fibromyalgia. Instead, it appeared to be more of a biochemistry for dummies, outlining positive scientific proof that fibromyalgia objectively exists. Thank you, Doctor. I knew that.
If the book’s objective is to prove that people with fibromyalgia are not malingerers, I would not find it interesting because I have nothing to malinger from. It’s my husband’s and my choice that I stay home with the Cat. What I really wanted to know—and it might be in the book I was considering but I couldn’t tell from the publisher’s description—was more along the lines of, do other people totally forget issuing a check; and do they forget to record the check they forgot they actually wrote? Do other people forget whether or not they took their medication a minute ago? Have other people been frustratingly lost, driving around and around, a quarter mile from their home? Were they stressed and fatigued for no apparent reason when such things occurred?
These are relevant issues for me. I don’t do online forums. And I don’t want to write the book I want to read; at least, not yet.