As I get older I’ve begun to obsessively monitor myself for evidence of mental deterioration. For instance, I cannot watch Match of the Day without reciting the names of as many Premier League goalkeepers as I can remember. I do it so often it has become a Pavlovian response. Another test is trying to remember every phone number I’ve ever had, starting with the first.
I wouldn’t recommend either as a means of reassurance. The satisfaction I feel on being able to remember a particular name or number is easily outweighed by the waves of anxiety when I can’t. I must have googled ‘Early Onset Alzheimer’s’ more often than my own name.
However, not all the signs of encroaching decrepitude are to be regretted. Over the past couple of years I’ve noticed a transformation in my attitude towards the elderly.
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