I always try to make light of my brain injury.
Haha! Lisa inquired about her lost sunglasses, only to be told they were on her head (“Sweetie …,” said the desk clerk with a wry smile.)
Whoopie! I often say the first thing that comes into my head. (“I’ve got perfect vision!” I announced to my daughter and her boyfriend from behind a pair prescription specs.)
Heck, it’s my nature to make light of everything. Hence, my blog.
Last night, though, I had a scary lapse, one that I hope is not a harbinger of things to come.
I was getting ready for bed, and my mind was wandering. A name came to my consciousness. For a few moments, I had to mentally ask myself, “Ted … Who is Ted?”
Ted is my husband of 30 years.
I went to him in tears, telling him about the incident and asking if we should call the neurologist. He was calm and reassuring.
I had recently had many disruptions to my all-important routine. We’d recently visited relatives and later ate dinner in the city (both pandemic firsts). I ran a 5K last month and just started swimming lessons.
I have excellent neurological care, never miss a dose of drugs and do everything I can to promote my physical, intellectual and mental health.
Most importantly, I’ve got Ted. He’s got this.