The greatest thing about reading is coming across an Ah-ha! moment. A single epiphany can prove to be well worth hours of otherwise unproductive reading.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n
The second best thing about reading is comfort. You don’t have to know someone personally to find reassurance in knowing another has been before where you are currently – and survived.<\/p>\n\n\n
Reading about it might even make it less awkward.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n
I found comfort of another type this evening in reading about lethologica – also known as the “tip of the tongue” phenomenon.<\/p>\n\n\n
You’ve undoubtedly experienced it yourself – needing to halt a sentence because some particular word is refusing to drop from your brain to your mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n
You know it’s there in stock, but it seems to have been left on the wrong shelf.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n
Sometimes you can think of the first letter. Or you have a vague idea of what it “sounds like”. But nothing comes.<\/p>\n\n\n
Some time later – whether it will be seconds or hours is unpredictable – the word is shaken loose and drops into consciousness, clear as day.<\/p>\n\n\n
I suffer from lethologica more and more frequently. I have noticed this over the past year or so.<\/p>\n\n\n
I’m only 56, but this growing frequency of misplacing words has fueled one of my greatest fears: Alzheimer’s.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n