A few months ago, not for the first time, I forgot something important. My wife suggested I talk to my doctor about my memory.
I was always the guy who remembered everything, from baseball stats to the B-sides of obscure singles to phone numbers I hadn't dialed in decades. But recently, finding my eyeglasses and keys had required more and more sleuthing, my sense of direction had gone from mediocre to pathetic, and I could ...
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