Sitting Pretty, and medical outings

Monday afternoon I did a matinee, an ancient Hollywood comedy, creaky but entertaining 

As unlikely as you'd expect, and my face blindness kicked in big-time, in that I couldn't detect the difference between the principal Clifton Webb and the snoop who lived with his mother and hybridized iris.

This definitely complicated the plot, until they appeared in the same scene and light dawned. 

This is not unusual in my life, and I've learned workarounds, also treading water until I identify who I'm talking to. To me a lot of people look like a lot of other people.  

I was happy to discover that I had this in common with Oliver Sacks. I'm in good company. And yes, I do know the name of the condition, having studied ancient Greek, before someone bustles in to tell me 😉. I just don't think it belongs in this paragraph.

The allergy season took a few days off and now I think ragweed is coming for me. Endless sneezing and swollen eyes, poor baby. But Tuesday is exciting -- Ruth and Laura get pushed up to 90%. 

I'm so happy with the hearing improvement I've been getting that this will be interesting. I've already dispensed with captions in movies, even for whispers and outdoor windy scenes, wheeee.  So now I wonder if, after I've reached the next level, I'll hear bats. 

Then the following day is Bone Shot Day, a biannual event, if that means twice yearly, not every two years. The bone density test showed improvement, so I'll get the official word then. 

This is a massively expensive shot, about $1,600 each time, and I'm glad to say Medicare covers it, after the doctor sets it up initially.  I'm also glad it appears to be working, a nice point. These old bones are suitably grateful. As am I, still walking daily, unaided, doing stairs, all that. 

I think my forays into sitting at stop signs waiting for them to turn red, and pointing my auto fob at my front door expecting it to open, are not particularly age related. More like dumbitude, seen at various ages, if younger friends are anything to go by.

Happy day everyone, feel free to share your own dumbitudes in the comments. 

Soup's up

 First soup in ages.

 I like to have soup in the freezer, for when I can't think what to cook. This is carrot, cashew, ginger and sweet potato. It used up the rest of the cooked sweet potato, frozen after the patty caper for when I felt like sweet potato again. One helping in the fridge, three in the freezer. It looks well stocked, but only the top third is food. The rest is art materials.

But what I'm thinking about a bit is a convo I had recently with a friend, where I explained I can't recognize people, even people I know well.  I identify them by gesture, or voice or some such cue. But their faces are not recognizable at all.  I have a number of friends, mostly in the art world, with the same issue.  It's a brain function, and there's a huge long Greek name for it, which, translated, simply says difficulty in facial recognition. I'd be a hopeless witness. Heck, I don't even recognize relatives. I am comforted by the knowledge that Oliver Sacks had the same issue.

The other day I saw a man on the street, thought at first it might be my son, then realized he doesn't have a jacket like that! So I didn't greet him, perfect stranger anyway. I even once failed to recognize my mom on a bus. She came and sat beside me, and I was sort of trying to ignore this woman shoving at my elbow.  Wasn't till we both stood to get off at our stop that I realized it was her. She was cracking up laughing about it.  If a longtime friend suddenly puts on a hat, I've had it.  No idea who they are.

Case in point: next door is a Boston terrier -- I have zero difficulty identifying animals, probably because they have constant movement and gesture going, and don't wear hats usually -- anyway, one day a man appeared at my door, holding little Bennie in his arms, a man in a baseball cap.  I instantly thought oh heck, something's happened to the neighbor and they need me to take the dog for a while, I reached out for Bennie, then the man spoke, and I realized he was the neighbor, who never wears a hat.  He'd just picked up the dog so he wouldn't run off while we talked. Ah.

One time I was in one of those cafes that looks out over an open space and a park, with a friend. A woman appeared, far off, with two dogs.  Whereupon, I said, oh, there's Rosie, haven't seen her in a while, and the GS, so I guess that woman must be Barbara.  Friend says, you're not kidding, are you? you identified her by her dogs? Well, yes.

It can be socially awkward when people just don't understand I'm not snubbing them.  People who really know me just call out and identify themselves as if on the phone, very helpful.  The way I would to a blind person rather than make them guess from my voice. But I've got into the habit of looking smiley and friendly all the time, just so people at least don't think I'm mad at them when I walk by!

This is in part a public service announcement. Please don't assume someone is deliberating cutting you.  If a friend just walks by, give them the chance to say hi by doing it first, with your name.  That would be great.  It's difficult at work.  After a while your boss really expects you to be able to pick her out at a meeting, while you're desperately hoping for clues, a word or movement that will tell you which one she is.

I wonder if it's connected to the sense of direction, which I also don't have? I can read maps and get around,but I can never know what compass point I'm heading in, or whether the next turn should be right or left.  The same street, seen from two directions, looks totally different to me. Could be two streets.  I can't just retrace my steps.  My late husband used to get a charge out of going for a walk with me when we lived in a city, round a few corners, then back home, saying, go on, walk in.  I can't walk in there, I don't know who lives there!  We do, you chump, that's our front door!

Not a huge problem. I just hope it isn't taken for dementia!  It's been with me forever. As my son says, when I fret over something I can't remember or got mixed up with, nah, Mom, you've always been this way!