While I remember

I was going to share intimate details of where and when I’ve been poked and with what (oh er Mrs!) but decided I’d save that for later and instead tell about forgetfulness while I remember.

As I’m sure I’ve said previously, well I think I may have, my memory is not what it used to be.  Years ago an Ops Director I was PA to asked me had I done something, knowing full well that I hadn’t physically had time to do it, and was taken back when I handed it over (I’d done it at home).  He said that when when I was born I probably appeared telling the nursing staff exactly what to do and the most efficient way of doing it.  I don’t think I need to say that this certainly doesn’t apply at the moment.

I’ve had to adapt round the forgetfulness – I’ve tried lists, which I’ve always loved – ‘My name’s Paula and I’m a listaholic’ – but if a piece of paper and writing implement aren’t to hand by the time I’ve got one I have literally no idea what it was I was going to write down.  If I’m distracted mid sentence by something, or rather anything; a bird, a stray ray of sunlight, Buddy burping,  I can’t always remember what I was saying.

Speaking of Bud he’s probably been affected most by my forgetfulness.  Fortunately B changes Bud’s water when he gets in from work so there’s only two days in the week he is left to my devices which have included –

♥  not changing it at all (so at least he still has water)

♥  taking away his old dish and replacing it with nothing

♥  taking away his old dish and replacing it with an empty dish

Now I have to put the clean dish down and fill it before removing the old one.  I’d find myself getting my tablets, making a drink and little Bud would be water-less.   One Saturday when B was up, Bud was stood at the side of me whining and grumbling I thought to go for a wander in the wood but when B went through to the kitchen a bit later it turned out that he was actually asking for a drink.  Yes of course I felt bad.

B’s stopped asking me to do anything in relation to the washing machine and time delays the dish washer before he goes to work so I can just pop anything else in and not have to remember to switch it on – I just have to close the door.

A few weeks ago I realised we needed more toilet roll in the bathroom.  After I’d washed my hands I found myself standing in my sewing room thinking ‘What did I come in here for?’ realised it was the toilet roll, which is in our bedroom and promptly went downstairs – B got some out later.

Oh, and just before Easter I arranged for a firm to call round and give us a quote for a conservatory.  Fair enough I only phoned on the Wednesday and they called on the Thursday but the only time I remembered to tell B was when he was trying to manhandle Bud into a secure position in the car for a trip to the Doggy Dermatologist.  A point in time when I didn’t think such trivial news would be appreciated.  Needless to say B did find out after he’d been and then had the audacity to make me feel guilty.  When he started with ‘Well it would have been nice to know’ I braced myself to retaliate to some whingeing but then he said ‘because I would have liked some input’.  ‘How dare you make me feel bad’ I thought.

And don’t get me started on the shower here on my holiday.  It’s down the corridor as opposed to just outside the room and I don’t think I have once managed to get in there dirty and come out all clean ans sparkly without one, two or even three trips back down the corridor for something.  Generally finding out I’d forgotten something after I’d got undressed.  This morning I thought I’d cracked it and even bragged about it on my way out of the room – only to have to come back for… shower gel!

BUT Friday morning I, or rather B, experienced the mother of all forgetfulnesses (phrase inspired by The Cat in the Hat film and the mother of all messes – though I think that could be in my bedside locker shelf where my netbook and phone chargers seem to snare wayward hands, fruit gums, mice – no matter how much I tidy it three seconds later it looks like it’s been pillaged by Vikings).

B phoned me on Friday and we had quite a confusing conversation about him getting copies of Bud’s pet insurance claim from the vets – which basically included me wondering when he’d had chance to do that as I’d forgotten they’d been to the vets that morning – and an equally confusing conversation about the rugby match that night I had to say ‘Hold on a sec’ as the Peritoneal Nurse had called round with my order of supplies for this week.  I asked him a view questions while he unpacked and then I ordered a cup of tea from the hostess and went back to doing my logic puzzle.  While I was doing this I realised I hadn’t told B something the registrar had said to me that morning, I then realised that I didn’t remember saying bye to him which lead me to realise that he was still on the phone!

I popped my earphones back in (as I tend to use them rather hold the phone to my head – I can keep knitting) and could hear B shouting ‘…I was shouting Paula’.  Needless to say he was a tad frustrated.  Now the time various if you asked B he’d say I left him for 25 minutes but I’d say it was more 15, well maybe 17.  In an attempt to make me pick the phone back up he’d been bellowing ‘Paula’ at the top of his lungs while he was standing in the bedroom.  So much so that our next door neighbour, who was pruning some bushes along the drive, had shouted up ‘Are you shouting me?’ and I’d caught the back end of B’s response.  With using the earphones he could have been shouting until he was blue in the face, and indeed probably was, and there was no chance I would have heard him.

B told me how much more he could have got done if I’d not left him hanging there – in fact he told me for so long he probably ended up even further behind.