When packing for the weekend getaway to the Cape, I brought clothes for all sorts of weather conditions, and apparently left about half my brain cells at home, including most of the ones that deal with language.
The first sign came shortly after our arrival, when we ventured out to a nearby bar for a pre-dinner drink.
T: "You've turned pensive."
Me: "No, I was just thinking."
T kindly waited a whole minute before cracking up.
On Saturday, while out on the whale watch cruise, I was wondering if T was cold and wanted to move to the glassed-in deck. "You okay?" I asked. "Because, you know, you've got 50% less pants than I do." Having forgotten the word for shorts, I'd improvised.
Aphasia hit its peak on Monday morning, as we took a drive out to Race Point. Spotting the airport, I said, "Oh look, there's the...." and then, having no words to what I was seeing, I made an extravagant hand gesture as if I was smoothing the top of a table.
"Airport? Planes?" T guessed.
"Runway!" I exclaimed triumphantly, repeating the hand gesture. "Because, you know, it's flat!
Next trip I'll bring fewer clothes... and a dictionary.
