My Handbag Has Been Taken Over By Sticky Notes...

Exactly when is that moment that you realize you have a problem?  Is it the moment when you reach into your handbag to get the list of things you are supposed to be buying at the grocery store, and instead of pulling out just one little note, you pull out your hand and there are 5 attached?  Or is it the moment when you try without success to figure out which note actually corresponds to that trip to the grocery store?

Exactly when do you start thinking to yourself, "This is ridiculous?"  Is it the moment when your husband says to you, "I know I told you that..." and you scan your brain unsuccessfully to try to figure out what it was he told you, all the while knowing damn well that you just had that conversation 15 minutes prior.

Do you start to wonder if you're loosing your mind when you see that 98% of your desk is covered in notes, and you can't figure out what goes with what, or what day you were supposed to be doing these tasks?  Do you start to think that Alzheimers might be a possibility when you pick up the phone, make a phone call, then search frantically to find the note that corresponds to the phone call you just made while trying to figure out who you called?

If it weren't for several (rather comical) discussions with previous chemo survivors, I would seriously be thinking of checking myself into some kind of nut ward to have my head checked.  But, the scary part of all of this is, I'm told it's completely normal- I am also assured that it is temporary!  I've always been pretty sharp.  I was the queen of multi-tasking.  I could have 2 phone conversations at the same time, all while sending a fax, writing something down and working on a text message all at the same time.  And I could do all of this while petting the dog-  so you can imagine how frightening all of this was to me.

I had so much worthless information in my brain it was ridiculous.  (Maybe that's the problem, maybe my "brain" cabinet imploded!  I knew it was no good to pay such close attention to everything.)  I have always had a photographic memory- at any given point in time, I could locate pretty much any object in the house or in the stores.  And it wasn't just with my stuff, I could tell my husband where all of his stuff was too.  I could remember customer names, and usually what they had purchased.  (Scary, hugh?)  My brain was a fine tuned machine that rarely let me down- unless I was extremely exhausted, and then it didn't quit entirely, it just ran a little slow- kind of like molasses.

So, this ditzy, diziness was all new to me.  And I fought the good fight- in the beginning.  Then things started getting rather hairy and chaotic.  (Making 2 trips in one day to the grocery store, no matter how close it is, is just ludicrous and completely unacceptable- as is walking up to the "office" in our home and having no idea why I was there!).  I had to do something...  And so the endless stream of post it notes began, and now at any given point, I usually have at least 1 if not 2, attached to me in some crazy way... Note to self, stuffing them in pockets is bad, especially when you forget to write yourself a note to take the the note out of your pocket before washing the pants.

I will survive this post-it note era...  I am told that exercising and challenging my brain is a great way to clear the fog.  Writing this blog is one form of reconditioning, as are the crossword puzzles that challenge me on a daily basis.  I can also say that  I'm thankful for the work that my husband thought it best to move into our home when the cancer business started.  Not only do I enjoy doing it, but it's important for me hang onto something familiar from my old life. And it keeps my brain active, and challenged.  But, I will say this, it was a lot easier to do that job with my pre-chemo brain.