A French-fried Brain

Tom and I are traveling right now. We spent a day in Frankfurt and Valletta (Malta) and then three days in Tunisia. They speak French in Tunisia, you know, which posed a challenge for my poor jet-lagged brain.
Tom knows I speak French, but I just could not get it out at first. Not more than a bonjour or two. But finally we got in a cab and the radio was blaring with Arabic rock. I tried to cope. I could not think of the words to say in any case.
But then it came out, en francais: Monsieur, would you please turn down the volume of the music? And that was all it took. He turned down the radio, apologized profusely and drove us the rest of the way in peace. And I knew my brain was still functional, even in French.

The AARP Addiction

       My name is Brenda. And I think I have a problem.

       After only a few days of playing games on the AARP web site, I may have developed an internet game addiction.

       Yesterday, I started playing another word game -- where the player has to match parts of words to make whole words on a particular topic.  I tried level one, moved up quickly to level two, played all the options on level two, and then moved on to level three.  While this happened, over an hour of my morning slipped by.

       Today, I tried other games, and again lost more than an hour. 

       Sure, my brain felt good afterward.  I felt energized, exercised and awake. But where had the time gone? At what point did I decide to just keep on playing?

       I know what made me stop: my back started to hurt from crouching over the computer.

       But if not for that, who knows how long I might have stayed online? If I had stuck with doing my core exercises from February (Fitness in 15 Minutes a Day), I could still be playing even now. I might never take a break to eat, or sleep or even to walk Olympia. I might never spend quality time with Tom again.  Our life's delicate balance could become...unbalanced! (You'd think all these word games might have helped me develop a wider vocabulary so that I could have used a word other than "unbalanced", but apparently not.)

       Anyway, I am trying to stay away for now -- at least until tomorrow morning. But who knows what may happen then?

       Help me...please help me...before it's too late!

The AARP Challenge

       At the tender age of 45, I still tend to make fun of the whole AARP concept.  Since full membership is limited to people over 50, I tend to think of it as an organization for "old" people. But let's face it, I'm not that far away.

       Indeed, now matter how much I try to deny it, I'll be 46 soon.  And people I know -- people I care about deeply -- are already members.  My oldest brother, five years my senior, recently joined.  A good friend has been eligible for membership for several years now, although I'm not sure he has signed up.  My dear neighbors from my condo complex are definitely members.

       And I have heard there are some benefits. My former neighbors constantly shared AARP information with me -- on matters ranging from exercise to nutrition to emergency planning.  And one of my faithful readers -- Pam -- told me to check out the games on the AARP web site.

       So despite all my instincts screaming not to do it, I finally checked out aarp.org.  I noticed articles on topics ranging from breakfast cereal to health care reform to travel. But of the five most popular articles on the site, four pertained to social security - confirming that I am surely way too young to benefit from this organization.  

       Still, on Pam's advice, I click on the "Leisure" heading on the web site to get to the Leisure main page.  Then, I click on "Games", and then on the "Games" page, I  locate a section of brain games. 

       The first game listed is called "The Right Word".  And since coming up with the right word is my most troublesome manifestation of aging (other than not being able to see up close without reading glasses) I choose to start with that game.  

       The first thing I have to do though is enter my sex, education level and age.  I wonder if being less than 50 will make me ineligible to play. But no...the year 1963 is listed as an option, for some reason.  

       I skip over the sample questions offered, despite the strong recommendation on the screen that I give them a try.  And asked to choose a level of difficulty, I confidently choose six out of nine.  I figure that since I am a little young compared to most of those on the AARP site, I must have a pretty significant advantage.

       The game begins when I am asked to choose words corresponding to six definitions, and as I would expect, I choose all of them correctly. 

       Then I proceed to the next part of the game...and the following is what happened in my brain -- thought by thought.

       

       On the right side of the page, I am required to list three states that start with the letter “A”.  No problem.  Alabama, Arkansas, Alaska. On the left side of the page, I am required to list three mammals that start with the letter “M”.  I had actually read the mammal part before the part about coming up with states that start with “A”, but since I have only sixty seconds to complete both columns and I was momentarily blank, I skipped to the right side. 

       Anyway…Monkey. There’s one. Now I need two more.  Should be easy...

       Um…Come on. I’m sure there are more. 

       Okay, well, let’s see what  mammals I can think of.  

       Giraffe. Tiger. Elephant.  Zebra. 

       A dolphin is a mammal. And there’s a bird sort of mammal too.
A penguin? I like penguins. 

       But no, it’s something that sounds like a bird, but isn’t. Hmmm…

       I look down at my dog, Olympia, who is sitting beside me. 

       I sense there may be a clue there. Dog. Cat. Sheepdog.
       Sheep. 

       A mother sheep is a ewe. A baby sheep is a lamb.  Sheep go mahhhh… 

       No, it’s bahhhhh…, but it really does sound more like mahhhh… which does start with an “m”. But who cares? 

       What about “moo”?  A moo cow?

       That’s terrible.  Surely I must be able to think of a mammal that truly starts with “M”.

       Some kind of rodent. 

       Yes! A gerbil? A guinea pig? Come on!

       Time expires. 

       I am shocked. Shocked!  And ashamed.

       The so-called game tells me now that I might have come up with mouse – which is the nickname we use for Olympia – so there was indeed a clue there. Not that my brain could come up with it. 

       Also moose would have been good, which I surely would also have thought of if I had been able to think of mouse first. And moose, of course, makes me think of mongoose, which sounds like a bird but isn’t.

       How could I not have come up with those? What is wrong with me?   

       And apparently, I’m not even done with this annoying game. Now I have to remember the six words I identified in the first section of the quiz.  

       Okay.  I can still remember those, at least.

       I quickly decide to try another round.  

       The quiz asks me to identify six words again. No problem. Done in no time. 

       Now I have to come up with three fruits that start with “M” and three items of clothing that start with “S”.  Shirts, shoes, slacks. There. 

       And now for those pesky “M” words again.  Um…mango. I’m allergic to mango. I’m allergic to a lot of fruits, actually. Maybe some of those start with M?

       Cherries, apples, strawberries.  It isn't fair that I have to think of fruits when I can hardly eat any of them.

       Shit. 

       What about “merde”?  That starts with an “M” and is French. Can I get credit for that? Swearing in another language?

       Luckily, the phone rings. It’s Tom. He tells me he’s at the airport waiting to catch the plane home.  I can hear announcements being made over the public address system in the background. “Hey Tom,” I say. “Can you think of three fruits that start with the letter “M”? 

       “What? I’m in line, waiting to board,” he replies.  

       “Okay, I just wanted to see if you would instantly come up with them or not,” I reply, beginning to relax a bit.

       “Fine, let me try. Okay. Fruit that start with M.” Tom is silent for about three seconds. “I can’t think of any fruit that start with M”, he says, clearly annoyed. 

       “Thanks! I feel a lot better. Have a good flight, and call me when you land.”

       By the time I get back to the computer, my sixty seconds has long since expired. The computer tells me I might have come up with words like melon and mandarin – neither of which I am allergic to, which is vaguely weird.

       I go back to the game.  And I play three more times – until finally I score 100% on my answers and answer all questions in the top 25 percentile in terms of speed. 

       That’s just the way I am.  Nothing less than perfection will do.  

       Even if it takes several tries to get there.

       

       My pulse is quick by now and my head feels like a band has tightened around it. I reach up and realize that I am wearing my glasses on top of my head.  At least I hadn’t been looking for them. 

       Things aren’t that bad…yet…

Sensational Toothbrushing

       Much of the book "Keep Your Brain Alive" focuses on the senses.   The authors write that non-routine sensory experiences can "produce novel activity patterns in nerve cell circuits" -- which is, apparently, a good thing.

       The authors advise activities like driving with heavy gloves or mittens on so that you have to rely on things other than your sense of fine touch to steer the car or change radio stations. This is one piece of advice I will not be taking.  I don't much like the thought of experimenting with sensory control while in heavy traffic behind the wheel of a 5,000-pound motorized vehicle. Other, perhaps safer ideas include simply opening the windows while you drive, to let in a "tapestry" of smells and sounds. I tried it yesterday and smelled car fumes and the banging of the bass from the too-loud radio of the car in the next lane. 

       Another suggestion of the authors is to try brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand. I am right-handed, but am pretty comfortable using my left hand for most tasks. So to heighten any difficulty I might experience, I made the activity more complex by first preparing and drinking my coffee, checking my e-mail and reading the newspaper -- all using my left hand. None of these made any impression on me.

       Then came the toothbrushing. With my left hand, I undid the lid of the toothpaste tube and put the toothpaste on the toothbrush, with ease.  Then I started to brush.  

       And, for perhaps the first time in years, I was aware of the feel of the toothbrush going across my teeth and gums and aware too of the shape of the teeth in my mouth. I could hear the sound of the bristles as they brushed away -- individual "ch-ch--chee-ch" sounds. I found myself slowing down to experience with my senses something that had always been automatic before.  

       I was stunned. 

       Before this experiment, toothbrushing had been a mindless, routine experience for me. I'm sure my dentist would consider this part of the reason I have plaque on my teeth (although never a cavity). And to be quite honest, I do think I came away with cleaner teeth after using my left hand to brush . For several minutes afterward, I ran my tongue over my smooth teeth, luxuriating in the feeling of a clean mouth. Or maybe it is just that my sensory receptors were abruptly more aware that something had happened.

       I tried this left-handed toothbrushing again yesterday and again was more aware of the experience. But today, it had gone back to being routine -- even with my left hand.

       But the authors had made their point. 

       I will continue to look for new and original ways to shake up my daily routine. 

       The authors say it can be as easy as wearing my watch on my other wrist or changing the location of my waste basket. I definitely like the thought that along the way, my brain might become more alert and responsive to what often seems like a pretty routine way of life.

Sticking with Cinnamon

       I'm amazed to be able to report that I have already enjoyed some unexpected success.

       The book Keep Your Brain Alive, by Lawrence C. Katz and Manning Rubin, states that because our lives tend to be fairly routine, much of our day is carried out using a minimal amount of brain energy. The authors suggest turning the brain on by offering it something novel or unexpected, which can include such simple acts as brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand.  

       The book, which offers 83 "neurobic exercises" arranged by the way one tends to spend a routine day, begins with waking up in the morning. Since many of us associate the smell of coffee with mornings, the authors suggest waking up to a different aroma.  "Keep an extract of your favorite aroma in an airtight container on your bedside table for a week," they suggest, "and release it when you first awaken, and then again as you bathe and dress."

       After sniffing a few smelly substances and concluding they would not provide a pleasing way to start my day, I decided to keep a container of cinnamon sugar on my bedside table. A few days ago, I took a whiff as soon as I got up, and it didn't do much for me. Then, after I sleepily let Oly out and groggily got Tom breakfast -- or maybe I groggily let Tom out and sleepily got Oly breakfast -- I considered what to do with the next couple of hours. For the last several days, I had been going back to bed after Tom left for work. We awake at 6:20 every day, and Tom leaves at around 7:15 -- which is a bit early for me. Surely one of the benefits of not working outside the home is the ability to sleep in a bit later than that.      

       But before I could settle back under our cuddly soft comforter, I took another sniff of the cinnamon sugar on my bedside table. In fact, I inhaled it deeply. 

       Suddenly my brain went ZING!  

       Abruptly, I wasn't tired anymore. The bed still looked inviting, but it was clear that sleep was out of the question. I was ready to start my day -- now! And I had a full and busy and successful day. I accomplished far more than usual and didn't nap at all.

       Over the weekend, I continued to sniff the cinnamon sugar -- taking huge whiffs of it in the morning -- and continued to be less tired and more active. Saturday, I attended a half-day symposium on adult learning, had keys made, met with the person who is going to manage the rental of our former home, visited two grocery stores and attended the symphony.  Sunday, I finally took care of several areas which had remained rather messy since our move and organized the garage, the laundry room and the utility room before attending a hockey game with Tom.

        This morning, when Tom left for work and I was already as alert as a sheepdog on patrol, I decided to do some internet research on the whole cinnamon thing. And I discovered several articles reporting that simply smelling cinnamon boosts memory and cognitive function.  Ingesting it also apparently can lower blood sugar and cholesterol and even lessen arthritis pain.

       My rather limited research pool (just me) indicates that it also helps wake up the brain. Only three days into my resolution, I already feel more alert and am definitely more active.

       For the rest of the month, I am going to try more and other exercises to keep my brain alive. But I am also going to stick with snorting cinnamon.

       And I would definitely recommend that everyone else with a groggy brain give it a try too!

Um...uh...

       So what's my resolution for October?

       It's...um...uh... 

       Wait!  I know I know it.  Just give me a second. It'll come to me.  

       Um...It's that thing. You know...the...um...

       Okay...the thing is that I'm feeling a bit slow lately -- a bit less than sharp. To be blunt, I am occasionally having trouble thinking of words, or names of movies and actors, or the name of a restaurant I want to recommend to someone (particularly at the very moment I want to talk about it). 

       I make some attempts to cover it up. I tend to think before speaking, so if I'm having trouble remembering some key name or fact, I just don't bring up the topic.  Of course, that means I sometimes fail to participate in a conversation when I am truly bursting to say something. I know I know what it is I want to say. I just have to wait until my brain comes up with it.  It feels like a long silent stutter.  

       I'm aware I'm not alone in this feeling of slowness. Many of my friends of similar age admit to having these small lapses. In fact, I recently had a dear college friend visiting, who asked me several times about the topic of my October resolution after repeatedly forgetting what I told her. When I finally forced her to come up with the answer herself, we couldn't help laughing.

       And for years, my parents have kept a list of names of movies and movie stars they tend to forget. Sometimes when I visit, nearly the first question they ask me is something like, "Who is that woman who was in that movie where ... happened? You know, the blonde one, but not Morgan Fairchild."

       Apparently, these types of lapses tends to begin in one's 40s and 50s, or sometimes earlier. It's disturbing, to say the least.

       Some people call them "senior moments".  I like to call them brain cramps.

       So for the month of October, I am going to try to do something about them. I am going to try to exercise my brain -- to make myself more mentally fit -- in the hope that I'll be better able to function without these cramps.

       Wish me...um...you know...luck!

A Lousy Finish

       Things hardly got better as the month progressed. 

       Although Olympia seems to be fine, and re-gaining her perkiness now that I have stopped giving her the antibiotics, I had very little success with my attempts to squeeze in some summer.  

       Instead, workers continue to come and go. I had thought we were done with the renovations. And I guess we are.              

       Now, however, we have moved on to fixing things that were built or installed during our renovation. Today, for example, I am expecting the alarm company to come to repair the alarm they installed last month. Even when the front door is closed and locked, the system frequently thinks the door is being opened. I figure that we have either an alarm problem, or a poltergeist problem....and I am leaning toward the former until proved otherwise.

       The fence guy is also coming today, after strong winds yesterday blew out two boards from our new fence. 

       I am praying that the pool guy will show up today, after letting me down again yesterday.

       On top of all that, I have to find time to winterize the fountain in front of our house because we may be having frost tonight between two days of otherwise lovely weather.     

       Sigh...

       Still, I did manage to have a few sort of summery moments last month. 

       I had hoped they would be relaxing, but they were more furious than anything.

        I gulped down an entire banana split at Dairy Queen one sunny Sunday, after conducting an impressive and cutting verbal attack on Tom for his failure to contribute sufficiently to the unpacking.

        Another day, I sat under a tree near a lake for about 20 minutes, after spending nearly 60 minutes trying to find the entrance to the damn state park which I know starts just behind our new house.

       And um...uh...I walked Olympia every day. Does that count for anything?

       Can you see why I failed to post anything for the rest of the month? In fact, I ended up giving up on summer entirely.

       Today is a new start though and time for a new resolution.  

       Thank goodness!