I grew up watching Wheel Of Fortune and Jeopardy in my formative years. 😉
My early years were spent on Sesame Street, Tom & Jerry, Bugs Bunny, Donald Duck and Mickey.
Then came Scooby Doo!
As I age, I wonder if I will be ravaged by mental robbers like dementia or Alzheimers! Darn, those robbers are mean as they can take away my everything including self dignity! Sheesh!
Today, as I accompanied my dad to see his neurosurgeon for follow up on his benign meningioma, I was given a reality check. His memory is failing!
As we age, we suffer from memory loss. We do have “reserve” grey cells but once depleted, we spiral and it becomes a vicious cycle. The only way was to keep active but my dad is lazy.
Dad, has lately been exhibiting memory loss and I am worried.
So, off I trotted with him to see his doctor.
I have to face facts that my dad may indeed have pre-dementia or dementia.
Regardless, he has to be assessed at Memory Clinic and followed up by aneurologist and a geriatrician.
I am alone in this new struggle. I suspect it is dementia and am now trying to figure out how to manage this, if it is.
My siblings are only spectators. Their reasoning to appease self conscience is – ta dah!! “I live overseas, not my problem”- certainly not their problem as out of sight, our of mind.
It is interesting that parents bring up kids, leave them inheritances when they pass on but hey, children like my siblings “wear blinkers” and expect inheritance!
Gee…remind me again…why I am single?! Answer is…cos I don’t want moronic children to inherit my Garfields and leave me like a lonely bag lady, possibly mindless!😄 Based on statistics today, this is highly possible!
So long as my “marbles” in the skull are intact, I will remember to make a note that any pittance I may have left of my singlehood goes to charity!
Moral of my story is, why should anyone give anything or even pennies to siblings who sees one only as “of use” and not as family.
More so, why can’t they give some love, care or concern to parents who brought them up – fed, clothed, schooled and expected to leave them bags of monies…sure makes me re-think my singlehood.
Blessing or curse?
Aaah well Garrrrrfield…where are you? I need a hug….
And when I grow old, may I still have my mental and physical faculties to continue to do pranks, watch cartoons, blog and share laughs with lemonade.
Sharing with you the treats that media journalists tried today….
Salmon fish and chips…real potatoes sliced thin and 4 kinds of dips…plain tartar sauce, salted egg, cream cheese and local home made XO sauce.
Served in paper cones and grease proof paper to eat using hands!
Dessert was strawberries with ice cream on a mound of shaved ice.
Seafood platter comprising grilled stingray with sambal sauce, mussels, squid rings and prawns.
The “killer” winning dish was a 5 generation or 100 year old classic chicken curry recipe which wowed the journalists! Served with a side of jasmine rice it was yummy!
Next came mango sherbert with chunks of mango and crunchy sago balls.
Durian sherbert with a side of durian puree and red bean soup.
There were heaps more food but I was busy “entertaining” them that I did not manage to take more photos.
Craft beer was also served along with artisan water from New Zealand “Nakd” – classy!
Today is my busiest as 20 media journalists will descend onto my office for a media conference I organised.
These days, media journalism includes newsprint, online digital, magazines, social media bloggers.
So…working hard means facing morons….
No time for 6 types of procrastination excuses. But admittedly, these are really great and useful!
If it fails,
My colleagues say I am OCD as I like things done well.
Perhaps if I do vandalise, I wonder if I do it like below. But, I am law abiding! It will never happen.
Unfortunately, people called “cowbags type of bosses” (*love this new word “cowbag”) are not smart asses!
Happy Hump Day or as we say Wednesday😉
If you do not know me by now, I confess that I treat Garfield as if it was alive.
Trust me, Garfield is inanimate with cottony stuffing.
He stares at me as I talk to it, as if it understood me like a pet!
I swore off pets for a couple of reasons.
For one, when a pet dies, my heart breaks and the last time my pet dobermann died, I was devastated.
So…voila…an eternal “pet” plus I do not have to feed or bathe it, just dry clean or machine wash.
Still, I remember when I did have a live pet, I told it whenever I was leaving or when home.
Do you do the same?