Tuesday, May 16, 2017

On Senior Moments



This morning, I had another senior moment.  Or perhaps it was just a Jaki Jean moment.

My eldest son possesses an obsessive, dedicated approach to a problem when he faces it.  It drives those of us who love him a bit crazy.  He is so focused that he does not stop until he has conquered.  But, over the years, we have come to just let him be & become the conqueror.

My approach is both different & similar. Like my Alpha Son, I cannot let go of something until I work it out.  Especially a mystery.  I obsess over it
.
The difference is that I concentrate so deeply that I lose focus & find myself walking into a room, intending to do one thing & find that once in the room, I am doing something entirely unrelated to my original intention.

My sister says I have Adult Attention Deficit Disorder.  If that is true, I believe I have had it long before the decades of adulthood behind me.

This morning, I went to take my morning medication:  two blood pressure meds, Metanx to repair the damage inflicted by my diabetic peripheral neuropathya ferrous gluconate tablet, a probiotic, 200 mg of CoQ-10 & a muti-vitamin.

My sister picked up a refill for one of my blood pressure meds yesterday.

This morning, I could not find that bottle.

I found the bag it was in when I went through the trash.  I found the pharmacist’s instructions about the medication & the receipt.  (My sister now has three gas rewards).

Because I could envision walking into a room with the bottle of Ibersartan, concentrating on something else & putting it in a bizarre place, I checked the fridge & freezer & pantry, every cabinet, the bathroom, the floor, the dining room, every drawer.

Finally, I sent an email to my sister, asking if she remembered where I opened the bag.  She said I opened it in the dining room & then asked if I checked the mantle.

We don’t have a mantle in the dining room. 

We do have a mantle over the fire place in the den – but it was void of any medicine bottles.  Just two photos of my sons, four candles courtesy of my mother’s church & our next-door neighbor (all of which require three AAA batteries – thank the Lord for the Dollar Tree), a rolling pin from grandmother Sims & an ice cream scoop from my grandmother Ettinger.

As my obsessive search continued, distracting me from everything I needed to do, I knew it was not good for my blood pressure. 

Adding to the stress of the missing or mislaid bottle is the fact that my doctor has a strict policy about replacing “lost” medication.  Of course, all the signs on the walls on his office & examining rooms have to do with controlled substances, not blood pressure meds.  But I still obsessed.

Even after enlisting my brother’s help, I did not find the meds.

Finally, after my mother Jean’s breakfast, I went through my pink medicine bin convinced that there were only three bottles from our pharmacy. There should have been four.


But I was desperate.  Wondering if I should take my blood pressure. 

Finally, in my desperation, I went through my pink medicine bin yet again.

Still three bottles from the pharmacy.

In desperation, I picked up every bottle that did not have the same “Hold Tab Down Turn” label on the lid in green.



Then I picked up every bottle resembling my over the counter supplements.
And there it was.  The Irbesartan, with a different lid & bottle shape & color.




That was my senior moment this morning.  Realizing I was looking for the familiar but needing to find something new & different.

One of the best things about this morning’s senior moment & my obsessive search for the missing bottle was that I ignored most of the drama & travesty coming out of the White House.


The very best thing is that I remembered to reach beyond the familiar & known & look for new & different moments.