A moment in her shoes.

I’m reading the wonderful book ‘Somebody I Used to Know’ by Wendy Mitchell at the moment. She is currently living with Alzheimer’s and blogs regularly at https://whichmeamitoday.wordpress.com/ She uses her camera every day to help guide her through the day and to act as her memory. She also uses the photographs in her blog to illustrate how much she can appreciate the world around her.

Early in her journey she describes the blankness of having what she calls a ‘foggy’ moment when looking at what should have been a familiar screen on her computer at work. She understood the context of what she was supposed to be doing, and knew that this was a tool she was practised in using, but the knowledge of how to understand and proceed was just not there. I tried to imagine what this might feel like, and failed. In her book she describes the person she was before Alzheimer’s as ‘Somebody I used to know’. She knows that person was quick and smart and her memory was something that everyone at work relied on, and right now I’m on that side of the divide and I can’t, or couldn’t, imagine what she was describing until I saw this photograph.

I find this image to be confusing, and at the same time such an eloquent statement on Dementia. I know keyboards intimately. I can touch type and I use one every day, all day; sometimes I feel my fingers are more expressive than my voice can be. The sight of an entirely blank keyboard has utterly jarred me. I know what it is, but it seems it has been robbed of its purpose and intention.

Now I can put myself in her shoes.