When we weren’t lazing around the house today, or working on a LEGO kit as Muriel napped at our feet, Crankenstein and I made our usual treks to Aldi and the Asian market — her beloved king oyster mushrooms don’t procure themselves.
In between errands, we delicately discussed whether to ask my neurologist if neurocognitive testing would be a good idea. We’re seeing her later this summer for a non-Botox checkup and it’s possible she’ll listen to our observations and say “That’s totally normal for YOPD.” It’s also possible she won’t, which makes us uneasy.
It’s a subject we tend to joke about or dance around so it doesn’t make Crankenstein too weepy. There are plausible, non-sinister explanations for (barely) late payments, briefly neglecting to turn off a stove burner, or forgetting to trade my slippers for sneakers before heading outside for a walk.* Among them are sleep deprivation and impaired medication absorption, two things we’re still trying to sort out.
What’s nagging at us even more than before is the combination of those things and my odder physical symptoms.** I don’t like worrying about this when Crankenstein usually has more than enough anxiety for both of us. And overall, I still feel like myself. But there are parts of me, some more important than others, that seem to erode a tiny bit more each day. That’s what neurodegenerative diseases do, though — they chip away at you — so it’s hard to know what’s normal and what isn’t.
Is my sense of loss merely metaphorical or figurative? I’d be happy if that were the case, and the biggest potential benefit of a neurocognitive exam is that the results might put us at ease. Whether that’s worth the risk of hearing “It’s inconclusive” or “You’re doomed to end up like Mortimer’s uncle in Arsenic and Old Lace” is debatable, though the timing might be advantageous — the speech and physical therapists could work together to help me (safely) run upstairs while (loudly) yelling “Charge!”
* The burner was on its lowest setting and was only forgotten about for a couple minutes. The footwear oversight has happened twice and each time was caught quickly, before I’d gotten too far out the door. I know people with ADHD who do much flightier stuff, but for them it’s normal. For me it’s not.
** In particular, I recall the CO detector incident of just a few months ago and know it isn’t something that would’ve slipped by me in the past.