Spacing It

I am sitting in the waiting room at the oral surgeon right now and I feel lucky. Lucky that they will be removing the heinous tumor between my front teeth that now feels like a tiny parasitic twin that’s sucking the life out of me and making it so I have to cut strawberries* with a knife and fork to eat them. I feel grateful because I actually showed up late–like 30 minutes so–when I spaced the true appointment time (and thought I was showing up early). They could’ve sent me packing to wait yet another month in this 7 month saga, but they didn’t and I’m hoping for a hole in the schedule so I can get this done.

The troubling thing is this: it is the THIRD time in the last few months that I have spaced something important. Although I am the kind of person who walks in late to meetings and parties, I am usually fully aware of my tardiness. But this is different. I keep surprising myself with these irresponsible moments of remembering wrong. The first infraction was accidentally skipping out on a day-long mandatory class for work. The second was showing up very late for my nephew’s birthday party, so late that we only made it in time to eat cake before the venue kicked the kids out of the party room and my children cried because they didn’t get to enjoy the bouncy houses with their cousins.

This is not like me. Besides my usual “island time” tardiness I am actually a dependable person, showing up basically when I say I will. I do this despite juggling the schedules of a full time manager, a mother of 6, and an individual who tries to make time for people who matter. Frankly I am worried about my behavior and the impact this spaciness might have on my life. What if I forget something even more important, like leaving my baby in the car or do something dangerous to a patient at work? Fear is making my heart rate go up as I type in this plastic chair, sitting amongst calm people who made it on time today.

It disturbs me because of the loss of control I feel, as if the flaws of my imperfect mind are an enemy I can’t run from. Have I finally hit the max capacity of busyness? Is there anything I can do to keep this from happening again in the near future?

When I try and look at myself objectively I can see a few contributors to decreased memory and overall mental sharpness:

1. Lack of sleep. The summer solstice era each year makes me even worse, and having an infant in my room doesn’t help. Erratic bedtimes and wake times, as well as early sunrises and bird chirps, are diminishing the amount and quality of zzzzzs.
2. Stress. Who doesn’t have this? Worries about my health and my kids’ have taken a toll, and so has the crazy schedule of appointments coupled with the usual work bullshit.
3. Postpartum hormones. “Mom brain” is actually a thing. Maybe nature doesn’t want me wasting mental power on work or anything else besides caring for my baby, but nature never had to worry about health insurance coverage or mortgage payments.
4. Nutrition.  I have been trying to eat better. (If eating better means putting slightly less sour cream on my nachos.) I could do more in making sure I have even blood sugar and more nutrient-dense foods, especially while breastfeeding. It’s possible that my brain is starving sometimes.

I also have big planning flaws, like using too many different calendars to track my schedule, or not consistently reviewing my appointments at the start of every week. I sorely underestimate the time it takes me to get ready or travel to my destinations. Time-specific appointments of any kind are my kryptonite since I hate mandates. (Self sabotage, mayhaps?)

All I can say for sure is that I want to put an end to not trusting myself. I don’t think I have Alzheimer’s yet, and I have a lot of important shit to do. If I could only remember what I was supposed to do later today…[holding that “thought”]…the dental assistant is calling my name already….

*If you have never tasted a fresh Hood strawberry from Oregon you must put this on your to-do list. Not your bucket list, but your to-do list, because you will not be satisfied enough to go ahead and die after you eat one. You will want to see the next spring come. And the one after.