Give me a minute. I’ll think of it.
Words are hard – much harder than they used to be. It’s a symptom of middle age I hadn’t heard about until it started happening to me. A few more aches and pains? Sure. Crow’s-feet and laugh lines? Okay, fine.
But now Father Time is taking my words, too? That’s a step too far. I’m a writer. A certified word nerd. I thought I was safe! This situation is a – um, what’s the word? Disaster.
The inability to quickly say the word you’re trying to say has a fancy medical name. It’s called “anomic aphasia.” Some people describe it as a “tip of the tongue” sensation – when you know the thing but can’t say the thing.
The experts say it’s usually caused by “typical age-related changes.” Women get a double dose of it during the lead-up to menopause when hormonal fluctuations cause what’s commonly known as “brain fog.”
Oddly enough, not all words are as likely to get lost in the fog. Adverbs, adjectives, prepositions, and pronouns usually show up just fine. It’s the nouns we have trouble finding – the words that name people, places and things. Nouns are typically the first words we learn as babies, so it’s embarrassing when you suddenly can’t seem to say the most basic things.
Here’s an example of what this sounds like in real life:
Me: “Tom, would you open the, um… the things over there? You know, the things that cover the… other thing?”
Him: “Things that cover the other thing? What are you talking about?”
Me: (Exasperated) “You know! The um… things that cover the glass we look out of to see the yard? Look! I’m pointing right at it.”
Him: “You mean the window? Open the window? It’s 20 degrees outside.”
Me: “No, just open the things that cover the window.”
Him: “We call those blinds.”
Me: “YES! Blinds! That’s what I’m saying.”
Him: “No, you’re saying ‘the things that cover the things.'”
Me: “Same difference.”
Lately, the word “thing” has become the crutch I use when I’m searching for simple words like “blinds,” “window,” can opener,” and “car.” Is this how actors feel when they’re on stage and can’t remember the next line – that sudden drop into blank nothingness?
These kinds of brief episodes can happen to anyone, and when they happen in the first half of life, you laugh and chalk it up to the occasional “brain fart.” When they happen after the age of 50, you still laugh it off, but inwardly your mind races with silent questions. “What’s wrong with me? Am I having a stroke? Is this early dementia? Is this a normal amount of word fumbling, or do I need a doctor?”
I’m glad my adjectives aren’t affected, so I can describe how this noun drought feels: frustrating, annoying, exasperating, ridiculous, weird, humiliating, and flabbergasting.
But at least I’m not alone in this. Tom, who is 5 years older than me, experiences these tip-of-the-tongue moments, too. Thankfully, we’ve been married for more than 25 years, which means we’ve developed an invisible brain link that often allows us to do or say the thing the other person was thinking at that very moment. It’s not a foolproof ability, as evidenced by the window blinds conversation above. But it works most of the time.
Sometimes I worry that we’ve each got half a brain and can only function at our best when we’re both in the same room, filling in each other’s blank spots. I’m grateful we still like each other because if we ever split up, we’d both be total idiots. Let’s pray it never comes to that.
I hope this mid-life brain strain will straighten itself out soon because I want my nouns back, thank you very much. For years, I’ve been collecting words and phrases like other people collect baseball cards or antiques. When I read or hear a great quote, I scoop it up like a rare diamond and add it to my treasure.
Speaking of words, if you have a few to say (and can actually think of what they are), feel free to send me a…” thing.” That thing you write on the computer and send through the Internet. Know what I mean?
Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email (that’s it!) her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her book is available on Amazon.
