A Feth in the Damily.

My laptop died for good and all today, God rest it's weary soul. It has been ailing for some time now and has finally kicked the bucket. RIP. So it's just me and my phone now, on which I can peck away with one or the other of my index fingers. I never learned to type away with my two thumbs as I see many people doing these days. It's just beyond me. As President Obama recently said, we all age out at a certain point. The problem is not a case of having two thumbs but of being all thumbs. And in any case, my fingers are always pecking at the wrong letters on the miniature keypad, so I generally just voice type anyway. That does require some proofreading, but it's still faster than my fingers. 

I went to see my neurologist yesterday, just for my usual 6-month appointment, which itself is pretty much only to renew prescriptions. But I enjoy seeing him, and he speaks English quite well, which is certainly a bonus, because the more Indonesian I learn, the less I am able to speak it. Curious that. 

But that is something I talked to him about, in addition to the usual rousing subjects of degenerative joint disease and arthritis and MS and stroke. And old age. 

On the latter line, I mentioned to him my increasing trouble with word searching and with often getting words backwards, not to mention a general haze of forgetfulness and cognitive blunders. But I get words in the wrong order, you know, or mixed together. Like, for instance, Lord help us may become Mord Lelpus. Stuff like that. We discussed the fact that my mother had died of Alzheimer's disease, and he said that yes this was a concern and we should keep an eye on whether current problems progress. 

Progression. That's one thing I'm good at in my old age. In particular, progressive diseases. Nonetheless, unlike my laptop, I live.