Something That Could Read my Mind

           You know? It's that thing on the wall with the different switches for the house. One turns off the electricity in the kitchen, one turns off the electricity in the bathroom, and every other room in the house. What the hell is that thing called? No, not a fuse box. Though that's what they used to call it and people would put pennies in the fuse box when the fuse broke, which didn't work well. See, I have this problem all the time, called Tip of the Tongue syndrome, but it's different than aphasia. I think the word's aphasia or maybe it's another word. 

           Like when I'm done eating my meal at the place I'm living, an ALF, and we go out to eat and when the waiter or waitress asks if there's anything else I need and I know exactly what I want to say, the same thing I always say, but I can't recall the words I say. So, the person working there tells the server I want a to go box, a soda to go, and a to go container for the sauce, which is right. That's what I'm trying to say.

           I also struggle with emergency decisions and have made other wrong choices in emergencies. Like once at the place I was living, I was assigned the work duty of spraying and cleaning the counters and watering the plants and a lady working there says a pipe burst and what do I think I should be focusing on doing: cleaning the counter or cleaning up the flood? And I didn't know. I couldn't figure it out. I can follow instructions, but hate making decisions.

           Another time, I was eating in the dining room where they serve state regulated food (yuck), and a woman at another table passed out. This was in a different ALF and I remembered asking a nurse if my pastor needed three nitroglycerines, that I'd need to call 911. But the nurse said this was a hospital, so instead of calling 911, you'd just call a code blue. So, I thought, is an ALF a hospital? Yes. And then I screamed CODE BLUE at the top of my lungs over and over until a CNA came and asked where? Where's the code blue? She then asked if the patient was ok and there was no response until the woman came to and it turned out she just had a TIA, which is no big deal. But, the CNA told me in the future to just push the call button instead of screaming code blue. That's why we have a call button. 

           Or the time in college where we went over a script over and over. I would draw a picture of a penis on the sidewalk with chalk and say “Claim your cock” and another person would be offended and try to draw over it and I would fall to the ground to protect the drawing of the penis. But, at show time, I forgot to fall onto the picture and it screwed everything up. There was also a time in high school when I was in a play where I forgot to help someone move a heavy prop from the stage. 

           I asked my doctor if a speech pathologist would help and the doctor asked why I thought I needed a speech pathologist and I told her, “I know exactly what I want to say. It's in my head, but when I open my mouth to say it, nothing comes out.” The doctor was kind, but said the doctor's daughter had the same problem and to just take five deep breaths and try again. That hasn't worked by the way. 

           So, I keep describing things like I was in an art class and I had an idea of an object I could put on a sheet of paper which has shapes cut out of it so I could paint over it and the paint would just go through the holes and the teacher asked, “You mean a stencil”? Yes, that's it. That's the word. Hallelujah! Stencil. But, this is the exception. It takes me a long time for people to understand what object I'm talking about and I'm not good at drawing so I can't draw the picture in my head. Maybe I need to learn sign language. Don't know if that would help. 

           I like to call things by the names of other things until others figure out what the fuck I'm talking about. Like the gray animal outside that climbs up trees and eats nuts is a chihuahua. I know chihuahua isn't the right word, but can't remember the name of the small gray creatures who climb up trees and eat nuts. 

           I know some Yiddish, too. And sometimes I know what the object is in Yiddish, but not English. Like, I need a shmata to clean my room and nobody knows what the hell a shmata is. Or I have to spend hours trying to explain to people what I'm talking about or play twenty questions so they can figure it out. Is it bigger than a box? Can you eat it? Is it alive?

           They say stem-cells might be able to help my condition, but then I'd have to be on a strict diet and I don't think that'd be worth it. So, it's not ok, but I have to make it be okay. I have to explain to the waitress I want the thing you suck soda through that goes in the soda and is round and bends at the top. Or I have to explain to the bus driver that I need to show him my phone so I can show him what bus stop I get off at. Or I have to tell someone I have a speech impendiment and wait thirty minutes to say a simple sentence. Oh, well. At least I can walk and am overall healthy. And I'm smart, I just have trouble with words. Hooked on Phoenix didn't work for me. But I can read. What I need is a reverse dictionary, where I can look up the definition and it can give me the word. I tried using a thesaurus, but it didn't work well. Oh, well. One day at a time. 

           Sometimes I wish they'd invent something that could read my mind. Advanced EEG. Right? Some way to get what I want to say out without all this turmoil. Family, friends, and others are patient, but I bet they're rolling their eyes in their minds. Come on, you idiot, just say it. Say what you want to say so we can get on with our lives. I hate myself.