Finding The Words

We all know mnemonics as a trick to remember something, or a list of somethings. Roy G Biv is an imaginary name, easy to recall, that covers all the colors of the rainbow. Each letter starts a color name, the mnemonic keeping them in order.

I find as I get older, words escape me. It happens even when I know them well. Somehow I have to find a way to think around the missing word until it pops into my head, anywhere from minutes to hours later.

Those who know me well also know that last week's planned two-day vacation up to the North Shore (Lake Superior) instead became a four day hospital stay. I've been working on writing about it but haven't been happy withe the organization of  what I wrote. Shortly I'll tackle smaller bits of the experience, but my body is still recovering at home now, hunting for a higher energy level.

Where losing words becomes relevant is in being able to name what I had that took me down. I had to come up with a new gimmick that would reliably work  when I needed to explain it, name it. Several different tries failed. I finally had to start with a visual image, then play with the sounds.

Our new home has a third bedroom we don't sleep in. I wanted one in order to turn it into a large pantry, in order to be able to stock up on all kinds of staples, organize them on shelves, protecting against shortages or budget shortfalls. "Pantry" became the visual image similar in name to the first part of the word I needed. I just had to visualize standing at the door, stepping inside. The second part was imagining something not there, an attic above the room. Combining pantry with attic, changing one sound,  a "t" to a "c", gives me "pancreatic". Once there I can recall the rest, and add "inflammation".  After a multitude of questions and tests, that was the first name I was given for what I had. I'd recall it, then lose it again minutes later, and have to go back to visualizing standing in that door.

It felt weird to hit a wall when trying to recall the familiar word. For example, I knew Alex Trebec, long time Jeopardy show host, died from cancer there. I could repeat it when I first heard it in the ER. Then I lost it, until I put it in mental pictures.

Of course they came up with a second, more formal name just to keep me on my toes. I had to go back to that door, mentally look inside the room, and figure out what different thing would bring the full name to easy recall. "My pantry is a tight-ass" is just silly enough to stick, even if only the first half is something I can see from the door. My brain decided not to be that fussy, accepting it as the launching platform for "pancreatitis".

So "attic" or "tight ass", I have a lock on the terms now. They're sitting right there in my pantry.