Each day feels new, and my memory of the one before is faint. I’m learning to adapt. |
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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. |
| Learning about AI-assisted writing made me realize it is like a drug. At first, it seems really cool and even trendy. However, it can take over the process of individual creativity. I suffered a brain injury five years ago. The result is permanent memory issues. I admit I use Grammarly to help with spelling and grammar. Without it, I can barely write ideas into readable wordage. I asked the wrong question the other day. The question should have been more personal. At what point am I using AI instead of my originality? AI-assisted writing is a slippery slope I do not want to slide down. I have to admit the tools are tempting. Thank you to https://www.writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/12976 by Max Griffen |