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 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. Note ▼ |
| As I learn to use AI tools for writing. I have grown some respect. These are the three tools I have found most useful: Grammarly and ProWritingAid for editing grammar and spell checking. Part of my brain problem is the difficulty I have with communicating with my hands. Additionally, I have a short-term memory issue. ChatGPT is helping me stay focused. So, in fairness, I’m adding this note to my creations. Note ▼ |
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