Aphasia, lethologica, lethonomia are all fancy ways of saying I am losing my words.
Aphasia happens because of damage to the language centres of your brain such as a stroke or head injury. I see this in my youngest brother, who has two brain injuries. Sometimes he stares at an object, knowing he knows what it is but the word for it won’t come.
Lethologica is what happens when you have a mental block and can’t express the word you know you know but it just won’t come out. Webster’s dictionary calls it “the inability to remember the proper word.”
“I want one of those bushes with the flowers, you know the flowers, the red ones I showed you on the hill, the hill in the middle of town with the flowers on top, you know! We were there to watch the planes fly over. I showed you those flowers, they were big and fluffy. No, not roses, the ones that only come in the spring and only last a few weeks and the leaves are a nice background for other flowers. Yes! Peonies! That’s the one. Thank you.”
The older I get, the more I suffer from lethologica. My doctor takes a step back and tells me I don’t have dementia. It’s just garden variety aging issues. Coward. Like my eyes and my knees, my brain doesn’t react as quickly as it used to. This is where I really appreciate the slower process of writing. I can edit and correct what I am trying to say for accuracy. In writing, I avoid saying the opposite of what I want. I don’t miss a key word and sound like an idiot.
“Turn left at the light dear and then a quick right. No! No! A right, then a left. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Put the shirts in the hall closet and those towels in our closet…sorry, other way round.”
Lethonomia is the inability to recall someone’s name. Another embarrassing glitch to deal with as we age.
I once had an awful time introducing an old friend who had come to stay with me for a few days. Her name left my brain just as I said, “Here’s someone I should introduce you to.”
When I meet people, I haven’t seen in a long time I no longer pretend I remember their name. I just freely admit, “I’m sorry, I know I know you, but your name escapes me. I’m Catherine by the way.” Everyone laughs! Every other person says, “Thank you, I have the same problem, I’m …”
The older we are, the more we all understand the pitfalls of words wandering away.
Bad enough that the joints and muscles aren’t what they used to be. The brain stumbling and bumbling is unacceptable. I want to know where to make a complaint!
Catherine Mills is a Prince George writer, focusing on seniors.
