December 5, 2019

Thursday, 11:45 pm

So… This is a first, huh? I never thought that in my 30 years of life, I would be writing a diary of all things… But the doc says that this is beneficial for me, so let’s try it out at least. Hmm. I have no idea what I should even write, but this is for you, well, for me but in the future— you get the idea. 

Whew. Okay. 

First things first, I need to tell you about your diagnosis from those MRI scans you got two months prior. Now, don’t be shocked; actually, be shocked. You’ll keep forgetting anyway. 

You have Alzheimer’s. An early onset Alzheimer’s. Can you believe it?

Now, before you go all bonkers on me, hear me out. ‘Cause I’m just as confused as you are, probably… if not more. I went to Dr. Chang, the primary physician, for my regular check-up. Told him that I’ve consistently been forgetting little things, like my car keys, wallet, apron, etc. I probably shouldn’t have told him that I forgot about one of my cake orders until the day the customer was supposed to pick it up… He had this big frown on his face when I told him that. That should have been my red flag that maybe something was wrong. But I digress. 

Anyways, he listened to me for a while and asked how long it’s been since I kept forgetting these little things. I told him for about two months now, maybe a little longer. And before I even knew it, he gave me a referral to a neurologist. 

Like seriously? A referral to a neurologist for forgetting to take my car keys before leaving my house or for forgetting to flush the toilet at work? Really? We all have those days, don’t we…?

… I still went. You want to know why? The biggest reason I went to the neurologist was because I was making croissants. Yeah, you heard me, croissants. You might be wondering what the hell does making croissants have anything to do with going to the neurologist, but… It has everything to do with it. 

As you know (or don’t know), you’re the pâtissier (pastry chef) of the most luxurious hotel in NYC, The Palace. And yet, you, the pâtissier, forgot to put the key component to croissants. Any guesses? Or are you far too gone now to know? I’ll just tell you: butter.

Yup, you forgot about the beurrage (buttered dough). You didn’t stuff that thick layer of butter into the dough to laminate it. D’you want to know what you did? You just kept laminating the détrempe (dough without the butter) and ended up making a stiff and dense block of bread, instead of the crispy, light, and airy croissant. Ha… Anyways, there you go. Now, do you see why I went to the neurologist?

I thought only old people going senile got Alzheimer’s… But Dr. Meyers— the neurologist— told me, with such a straight face, that I have Alzheimer’s. I still think he’s pulling my leg. I’m 30. How the fuck does a 30-year-old, in the prime of his life and career… get freakin’ Alzheimer’s? Isn’t it normal to occasionally forget someone’s name, or their phone number? We all do it. So why am I—you—diagnosed with such a ridiculous disease?

I’m going to another doctor for their second opinion. This is utter bullshit! Wish me luck. Well, if that stupid neurologist was wrong, this will be the only page you’ll read.  See you never?

**NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.**