Marinated Posters

One of my favorite movies is "Joe vs. the Volcano." Joe lives a bleak existence as a former-firefighting hyperchondriacal advertising library assistant in a rectal probe factory. Pasty under the gray lights, Joe spends all his time and money trying to discover what's wrong with him. Finally he finds a doctor who tells him what he has always known: Joe is dying. In a twist Joe discovers that he is not dying from anything related to the systemic symptoms he suffers. Indeed, the doctor tells him he is a hypochondriac. Rather, Joe has a "brain cloud" that will kill him in a matter of months.

I, too, have a brain cloud. Called brain fog by the medical community, Fibromyalgia Syndrom causes memory, recall, and other cognitive difficulties. For years I have had difficulties recalling the precise word I want to use. I can create convoluted explanations for the one word I seek, but I cannot get my brain and mouth together on the word. All of my friends have watched me staring at them trying to find their names only to end up having to point and say, "You."

Often such experiences are tremendously amusing. Like when I tried to tell our children's minister that I had taken down all the laminated VBS posters. The only word I could say was "marinated." Of course, I knew the posters were not marinated. My poor friend was at a loss trying to guess what on earth I was trying to say.

Another recent event took place on my 18th wedding anniversary. Having gone to a lovely restaurant to celebrate, I foolishly closed my menu before ordering. (Keeping my menu open is a little trick I use to avoid displaying my cognitive inabilities to every restaurant server in the universe.) In the process of ordering I needed to say "New York Strip" four different times. Not once could I do it. Fortunately, I have a loving husband who, each time I turned to him, would supply the necessary words.

Boys 1 & 2 are used to hearing me telling them to do things like put their laundry in the dishwasher or go comb their teeth. Most times they simply go and do what they know I meant to say.

Certainly everyone does this kind of thing from time to time. But anyone with a syndrome that causes similar cognitive symptoms knows that few can come up with some of the crazy things we say.

My "brain cloud" will not kill me, though it may slay many with laughter. And like Joe, I choose to live life as a grand adventure rather than give into the adverse effects of this "dark cloud of tissue running through the center of my brain."

So when you hear me call you, "You," know that I love you and your name, I just cannot recall it in the moment. And if I try to tell you about marinated posters, laugh with me until we find the right word.