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Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/profile/blog/dalericky/day/10-20-2025
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, “Seven Degrees Left of Center.” It’s not an answer—it’s who I’ve become.

October 20, 2025 at 7:11am
October 20, 2025 at 7:11am
#1099691
Some days, my writing feels like déjà vu wearing a disguise.
I’ll open a document, start typing, and somewhere between the third paragraph and a sip of lukewarm coffee, I realize—I’ve been here before. Not metaphorically. Literally. I already wrote this story.

The plot? Familiar. The phrasing? Suspiciously mine.
The twist? I forgot it existed.

That’s the curse and comedy of brain fog. It’s like living in reruns without knowing what season you’re in. I can’t remember last week today, and sometimes not even yesterday this afternoon. But I keep writing, because maybe that’s how I find my way back to myself—one forgotten story at a time.

Still, there’s a strange comfort in rediscovering my own words. It’s like meeting an old friend who reminds me who I was when I wrote them. Maybe that’s the point—not remembering everything, but rewriting enough to stay found.


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Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/profile/blog/dalericky/day/10-20-2025