Post Test

I’ve always been a great test taker. Give me an essay to write or a multiple choice question and I’ll probably ace that old test.

Yesterday I took a different kind of test—an assessment to measure my memory. It started out simple enough, and I’m proud to say that I could correctly identify a variety of common zoo animals. I also drew the clock as directed, but now I’m wondering if I mixed up the hour and minute hands. I was a little bit anxious, so it might’ve happened.

After a couple more questions, the doctor gave me a list of five words that I was to remember until she asked for them again. That one did not go well. I think when all was said and done I recalled three of the words on my own, and one with a hint. And for the record, my words were harder than Trump’s. 😂

I did well on repeating sentences word for word, as well as repeating a string of numbers. My favorite part of the test was getting to slap my knee every time I heard the letter “a” when a long string of letters was spoken. I felt a bit like a kindergartner. Slap, slap, slap,

There were a few physical assessments—pushing, pulling, walking across the floor heel-to-toe. I had trouble with the last one. My size eight feet didn’t like that task. If I’d been barefoot I could’ve done it.

At the end of the assessment the doctor asked a great many questions about my daily life and the incidents that had prompted me to schedule an appointment. Was I depressed? Did I get enough sleep? What meds do I take? Etc.

They’ve scheduled some bloodwork, an MRI, and an EEG to rule out any other issues, but I think overall I did okay on the tests I took yesterday. But who am I to say? If there’s was problem, I likely wouldn’t realize it. And that’s a bit scary.

Thanks to everyone who sent me good vibes!

Peace, people!

The Test

I have a test scheduled this morning. In fact, I’m here, thirty minutes early because I was afraid I’d get lost in the maze of hospital corridors. In some places, one must go down to go up, or maybe that’s only due to a screw up on my part.

My fingernails could use a trim. And some polish. That’s what I think as I sit waiting to be called back. They’re going to think I’m a doddering old lady. Maybe I won’t need the test to confirm it.

It’s a test of my memory, you see. Lately I’ve done a few things that have made me wonder. Made me nervous, in fact. So I scheduled a test with a neurologist.

And I haven’t known how to study for it. I thought of googling the Pythagorean theorem or the number of degrees in a triangle, but I doubt those questions will appear on this test. More’s the pity. I think I remember those well enough, even without google.

Peace, people.

Pinch Me

I published this piece less than a year ago when my first book, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort hit 500 reviews. Just recently, the book hit 1,000 reviews and now it’s at something like 1,040.

My husband, Studly Doright, reminded me of the angst I’d suffered wondering if it would ever get to 50 reviews. I do. Felt like it took forever, but those first fifty were really special. And I have many of my blog followers to thank for supporting me, for taking me to 50 and beyond.

Five Hundred?! About a week ago I realized that Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort was nearing five hundred reviews on Amazon, and I …

Pinch Me

Sock it to Me

My memory is going. I don’t have any measurable proof, at least not yet, but it’s something I fear. I’ve heard of people who’ve forgotten about stuff that happened ten minutes ago, yet can recall obscure knowledge they’d gained decades in their past.

Case in point: socks. I was sitting on the edge of my bed yesterday morning putting on my socks when the word “calcetines” popped into my head. Huh. Socks in Spanish. Where’d that come from?

But ask me what I had for dinner two hours ago. I can tell you one thing— it wasn’t calcetines.

Peace, people.

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