You called me twice today. These are the first long distance phone calls you made. You are starting to get some of your resourcefulness back. You had another good day. You said that you scouted out a smoking place outside but you got stuck and had to get someone to get back to the hospital so you didn’t try to smoke.
Another day. Another finishline.
You told me of a gentleman you met on the floor who has no legs and no memory. He can talk and he has his arms. He doesn’t know who he is. Amnesia is something you hear about in soap operas but rarely in real life. I try to imagine no memories. How difficult it would be for the person and for the family.
I remember, there was a time, I worried that you would have no memories or significant gaps in memory. You don’t. Your long-term memory is as good as the day before your stroke … better then average. Your short-term memory is a little reduced but now you are simply a member of the population’s norm.
To loose one’s memory would be like loosing yourself.
The two of you had a good talk about the bad feelings that constantly circle you. I think that talking about your losses with someone who has experience significant but different losses from you allows you to appreciate a little what you do still have … which is plenty