A couple weeks ago, I went for my annual physical at my primary physician’s new venue. The Physician’s Assistant, who was previously unknown to me, asked me to put the numbers on an analog clock face. Then I was to indicate ten minutes after eleven on said drawing. I succeeded!
We agreed that, a generation from now, this might not be a very useful exercise. Maybe sooner.
There were three words I was given to remember. Even that evening, retelling this to my wife, I couldn’t recall the first word. It may have started with S. It surely WASN’T Tequila because the second word was Sunrise.
The third word I feigned forgetting, lightly pounding the arm of the chair I was sitting in. Finally, I gave the correct answer: Chair.
I’m not sure how much this proves; I’m notoriously bad at remembering names. But good at numbers; I was asked to recall my weight, which I did. But that also had the visual cue.
Having to have this test administered really ticks off my primary care physician. It’s apparently a mandate of some sort for those who are eligible for Medicare; I do have Part A.
If the test HAD shown some developmental loss, it might well be at a point when it’s far too late to be of any use.
Of course, the “rule of three” is “a writing principle that suggests that things that come in threes are inherently funnier, more satisfying, or more effective than other numbers or things. The reader or audience of this form of text is also more likely to consume information.”
That’s SO true. When my wife asks me to remember three items to pick up at the store, I’m good. Add a fourth item, and out comes the pencil and paper. Some are even worse off: Fred Allen said: “I always have trouble remembering three things: faces, names, and – I can’t remember what the third thing is.”
Next year, I’m told, the test at my doctor’s office will be tougher. I’d start studying now but I don’t know what’s going to be on the quiz.