Hi, my name is Bob, and I'm recovering from Alzheimer's.This means that my cognitive deterioration, though less noticeable now, still shows up as going blank on proper names and words, along with lapses in concentration, e.g., losing track of what's just been said in casual chit chat. It also means that I have to stick with a hard ball anti-Alzheimer's program if I want to stay clear of being shipped of to what is now called a "Memory Care" facility.

My newest anti-Alzheimer's program focuses upon learning medical terms. The obvious reason is that I'm spending, and will be spending, lots of time with doctors these days. But an even stronger reason is that since medical terms are very, very hard to learn (ask any health professional), I feel the effort — just like lifting weights — will strengthen my overall vocabulary power and concentration ability.

In addition, my vocabulary achievement can be tested later on, spelling-bee style, via questions like, "Please spell the anatomical term whose dictionary entry lists its pronunciation as /se ree'broh vas"kyeuh leuhr, ser'euh-/, and its definition as of, pertaining to, or affecting the cerebrum and its associated blood vessels" [answer: cerebrovascularI].

By way of putting new-wave electronic learning to the test, I'm using the WordGenius® electronic version of Random House Unabridged, which offers quick drag-and-drop access to medical terms in the following explicitly designated and searchable fields: anatomy, dentistry, immunology, medicine, ophthalmology, pathology, physiology, psychiatry, and surgery.

In the interest of learning-friendliness, my starting point will be single-definition 15-letter terms in the field of anatomy. There are only six of these: cerebrovascular, cricopharyngeal,mechanoreceptor, parasympathetic, rhombencephalon, and sinorespiratory. But as the number of letters decreases, the number of single-definition terms increases, 14 letters (12), 13 letters (18), 12 letters (25), 11 letters (44), 10 letters (49), 9 letters (50), etc.

At this point I'm working from the top down: 15-letters, 14, 13, etc., first asking myself and checking pronunciation questions (e.g., "Which syllable in cerebrovasculargets the principal emphasis in its entry?"). After this I ask myself and check headword centered questions (e.g., "What does cerebrovascular mean?)

Later on, when I feel more confident, I'll ask a friend or someone in the family to quiz me spelling bee-style. The more words I cover, incidentally, the more knowledge I seem to pick up regarding how the elements of our Graeco-Roman vocabulary, e.g., CEREBRO- = "brain," VASCUL- = "blood vessels," –AR" = "having to do with."My goal right now is a 70% mastery of our first seven anatomy groups (204 high tech vocabulary targets).

Will I bring it off? As a member of Alzheimer's Anonymous, I of course have high hopes.But my membership also requires a certain amount of self awareness, enough so to recognize that the dragons of indolence and muddle-headedness may slay my good intentions just as they slay the good intentions of many Americans who start the New Year with a high powered diet-exercise program or with a list of Great Books to read and ruminate upon.

Human weakness — this is the central credo of my Alzheimer's Anonymous friends.Though not conventionally religious, our belief system invokes the higher powers of Persistence and Concentration: either from within or from outside, wherever they may dwell. Along with Humility, yes, Humility, and a little Good Luck too in the year that lies ahead for ourselves, our dear ones, our nation, and for the rest of our fellow planetary dwellers — "every one," as the little fellow with the crutch said in the spooky Christmas story.

Published December 22, 2008