The good thing about aphasia (if there is a good thing) is that you know it's happening. One can be completely unaware of having an Apraxia (using one word, when you mean another) moment.

I usually only know it's happened because people are giving me bewildered, bemused or shocked stares.

Sometimes the words are close in sound or relationship. For example, "your sock is untied," when, obviously, I thought I'd said shoe.

Other times, they are completely off the wall. Like the time our dinner guests were all staring at me uncomfortably and my husband told me I'd just asked if they'd like a "cup of bluejay." Yes, bluejay. Chances are, a bluejay had just flown by the window at the moment I went to say coffee.

When I went into Attention Processing Therapy (APT), my wonderful instructor realized that I would often, unknowingly, insert the name of whatever crossed my field of vision, into a sentence. APT helped me relearn how to focus better on the task at hand. Thanks to that training, I don't have as many of the really outlandish apraxia moments and, when it does happen, I occasionally realize it, without prompting.