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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/dalericky/day/12-31-2024
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.

December 31, 2024 at 12:18pm
December 31, 2024 at 12:18pm
#1081759

Waking up in an unfamiliar bed is easier than going to sleep in one. I thought waking up in a new place would trigger some confusion or stress, but torn out, trying to sleep in a strange new place is more difficult.

Otherwise, the trip was pleasant. I adapted quickly to the surroundings. I still struggle with conversation, but my family is a blessing for understanding and accommodating my speech.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/dalericky/day/12-31-2024