%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 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. |
| Once again, I am starting a day with a near-blank slate. Yesterday had faded into that gap in my brain where things disappear. I haven't been writing for the past week or so, and it is starting to show. What I am working on is not so much the fading past as the bright future. The future has important moments, and the present is the precious moments. These are things I have had to relearn. I have spent too much time on the past or trying to recover the past, and I have missed out on some of the present. Take it from me: Learn to appreciate the present and look forward to the future. There is little to nothing to gain from dwelling on the past. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
Sending prayers for continued improvement and recovery 
