There’s nothing like a dose of chemotherapy coupled with sleepless nights to bring on a rampant case of brain fog in my experience. Even the relatively mild treatment for solar keratosis seemed to turn my husband’s brain to mush. This, along with a tendency to worry about things that haven’t happened (a product of a childhood in which emotional abuse played a big part) can make for a difficult relationship at times. After the third time of explaining how I can pay the builder by direct transfer, or the fourth of explaining how the new vacuum cleaner works ( and no, it’s not a good idea to vacuum up large pieces of debris as they do have a habit of blocking said vacuum cleaner) I begin to wonder if it’s me going slightly barmy.
We have made progress though. Instead of saying, “You never told me that,” Gerry now has come to terms with what I affectionately termed his chemo brain even before I realised it was an actual thing, and now says, “ Have you told me that already?”, or more frequently, “ You’ve probably told me this but ….” Mind you, it doesn’t help that I have a tendency to tune out when he’s telling me something for the third or fourth time because he’s forgotten that I am already in receipt of that particular piece of information. Brain fog hasn’t prevented him from picking up on that one though. He said yesterday, “How do you do that? How can you just tune out like that, and why can’t I do it?”
You can and you have, dear. In your case it’s called selective deafness.
