Take a note...

She has always been a list maker. It had saved her skin more times than she really cared to think about. Thoughts had always made their way through her head at a rapid pace. If it didn't get written down, it didn't get done. It wasn't that she wasn't bright, she always felt it was the opposite in fact. There were just so many things to think about, so many things to do, that to hold on to one thought for the length of time it would take to get to the grocery store was an impossibility. Too many things were fighting for her attention.

When she was younger it had been stenographer's notebooks. Those were replaced by her never far from reach day runner. Then the smart phone. And then recently back to the stenographer's notebooks. The tried and true gave her comfort as she got older. That and they didn't run out of juice just when she needed to check her daily schedule. Because try as she might remembering to charge her phone was something no list could seem to make her do. And she relied on her lists even more now.

When it had first started happening she had denied it even to herself. Standing in line at the bank only to not be able to remember the word "checking" once it was her turn at the window. She had laughed with the teller about "brain farts" but it hadn't been funny. Not really. Names disappeared and reappeared on her on a regular basis. People would come to visit her and she would have no idea who they were. She smiled and chatted with them anyway waiting for the name to come, and eventually it would.

She went to the doctor expecting to be told that there was nothing to be done. Just aging taking its toll. She was half right. There was nothing to be done. She carried the APOE-e4 gene. Blood tests, brain scans, cognitive tests. Her symptoms didn't match anything else. Alzheimer's disease it was.

She made plans and lists as soon as she knew. Her doctors told her it could be a very slow march through the stages of the disease and not to get discouraged. There was research being done every day that was bringing them closer to a cure. And for awhile she was fine. Lapses here and there. But her lists got her by. She felt like she was doing okay. Not perfect. Moving out of her house and in to the adult care community had been hard. A necessary precaution, but hard. But she still felt optimistic about her progress. Until today.

Today her "To Do" list wasn't comforting at all. It wasn't just that today was June 26th according to the calendar on her watch and her "To Do" list was for June 25th.  It was the scrawl across the bottom, "WHO ARE YOU???" The barely legible chicken scratch across her neatly written list that stopped her cold.

It wasn't just the loss of an entire day. It was what she felt when she saw the writing. It was her writing. Just not the neat orderly writing she normally had. It was a panicked child's writing. And when she saw it she clearly saw her shadow self for the first time. The one that came when she left. During those stretches where she couldn't remember what was happening. This is who must have been coming and taking her place. And how terrifying for this other self. To not recognize the people around you? Your surroundings? Even the list you wrote out yourself of things to do that day. So much fear.

What an odd feeling to have pity and compassion for this other woman. Only to face the fact that she was you. And would become the main you sooner than you had thought. Already you had been aware of her, the cap left off the toothpaste, the spoiled milk in the fridge. The mess of unfolded clothes. But here she was, sending you a message. Who are you?  WHO ARE YOU???

Who am I? Who are you? Who are you to come in and take over my life? Who told you that was okay? Who opened the door for you? You have fear? Of course you are afraid. So am I. Terrified.

She took a deep breath. She had known it was coming. When she had gotten the diagnosis she had done a lot of research. Made lists of symptoms to watch for. Things that would need done. She had wondered what she would do when the time came. If she would even remember where she had put those lists. But for now she did. She went to her bureau and pulled out a small box. Opening it she took out the stenographer's notebook and opened it to the first page.

To Do:
Today's Date, Unknown

1. Put the letters in this box in the mail.
2. Call Zooey and tell her that you love her.
3. Fill the bathtub.
4. Take the bottle of pills and a glass of water with you to the bath.
5. Take the pink pills first followed by the two blue ones. The pink will put you to sleep and the blue will keep you from throwing up.
6. Enjoy your bath and sleep well.


She closed the notebook and put it back in the box. Today wasn't the day, but she knew it would be here soon.

There was comfort in a list.