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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/dalericky/day/11-24-2024
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #2276168

Each day feels new, and my memory of the one before is faint. I’m learning to adapt.

In September 2019, a seizure revealed a lime-sized meningioma pressed against my hippocampus—the part of the brain that governs memory and language. The doctors said it was benign, but benign didn’t mean harmless.

Surgery removed the tumor, and three days later I opened my eyes to a new reality. I could walk, I could talk, but when I looked at my wife, her name was gone. I called her Precious—the only word I could find. A failure of memory, yet perhaps the truest name of all.

Recovery has been less cure than re-calibration. Memory gaps are frequent. Conversations vanish. I had to relearn how to write, letter by halting letter. My days are scaffold by alarms, notes, and calendars.

When people ask how I am, I don’t list symptoms or struggles. I simply say, ā€œSeven Degrees Left of Center.ā€ It’s not an answer—it’s who I’ve become.

November 24, 2024 at 10:53am
November 24, 2024 at 10:53am
#1080429
As stated before, each day is a degree of starting over. The tasks and thoughts of yesterday have passed. The slate is blank, ready for another day. This is my life.

I try to explain how each day starts, but nothing seems appropriate. I get up and make coffee, which is the part I have done. Then I watch some local news. From there, the day starts anew. What shall I do? What should I do? I checked the notes from yesterday. In reality, I didn't write any. Did I forget, too? Or did I get distracted and just don't do it? I don't know.

I'm tired. I better stop, or the depression will shine through. Enjoy each day is all I can say. Because I know tomorrow, it will have faded away.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/dalericky/day/11-24-2024