Because I had reached sixty-five, and because having newly arrived in New Bedford and wanting to know I was entering a new chapter healthy enough to enjoy it, I had an appointment with my new doctor, who, along with all the medical checks, had a social worker in to do a “Senior” assessment.
I assume anyone on medicare or who is receiving some form of Social security has taken the test that establishes a starting point so any changes might be noticeable, especially if you are now where no one has met you yet and to whom all about you will be new to them.
They ask for the day and date. They ask about your living arrangements, wanting to know if you drive, do you feed yourself, can you get off the couch without help, before having you point to a chosen animal, write some words down, and finish with a drawing of an analog clock set at a certain time.
I obviously was not cognitively impaired, and, although that meant for all intents and purposes normal, average, the social worker, since handing out lollipops went against the health clinic’s healthy foods initiative, gave me a wooden tongue depressor as a prize.
No one seemed surprised by the results as there had been nothing to indicate the need for a cognitive assessment beyond having a starting point.
If the results had people surprised at what they were, going so far as their admitting I had exceeded expectations, I would be curious to know what the expectation was and why.
Trump may want to know this too in his case.