Chapter 33 : I don't remember

When I say, “I feel good,” I get no response.

So I continue, “And I also felt good when I came home from hospital.”

This time I get a response. Which is laughter and the comment, “I know, you even wanted to go for a run when you got home.”

I am frozen and unmoved and she shows me a video. It is of a guy wearing hospital scrubs.  He is sitting in bed leaning on some pillows.

“Look you can’t even sit up here. Watch, now you will fall forward.”

I look at this guy who was me but he couldn’t be me. He or me doesn’t know that he is in hospital. He or me looks like someone on medication or alcohol or drugs. Completely zonked. Having trouble sitting up. Leaning against the pillows. His face is bloated and his eyes aren’t for seeing. They look scared/frightened and look at nothing. He just looks very sick. And I stare at this guy in a hospital bed moving restlessly and I go with my usual response which is, “I don’t remember anything.”

I can’t remember a thing about this moment or similar videos. As I stare at this sick stranger, I think of my family. What were they thinking at the time? What were they thinking as they sat watching this crazed man. They had taken him to the safety of the hospital; seen him fed; seen a drip go into his arm; seen him wearing a nappy; listened to the doctors.

And the doctors couldn’t explain what had happened. And my family couldn’t explain what had happened. And he couldn’t explain anything. He couldn’t even talk.  All he could do was lie there agitated and non-responsive.

Nobody could say why he was behaving the way he was. But the staff said they were confident and said he would wake up the next day but he didn’t.  They continued this for a while but eventually they gave up saying he would wake and they switched their story to, “Prepare yourself. He’ll may never wake up.”  And as my family sat and waited, nobody had a reason. Nobody came in with the explanation.

And when he did eventually start to wake they heard a different story and this time it was, “You had better get used to looking after him. He could be a vegetable from now on.”

And I don’t remember that time. I don’t remember the time they were told, “Prepare yourself for the worst,” and I don’t remember the time the staff warned, “He could be a vegetable.” I don’t remember any of these times. I was oblivious and happy. 

I vaguely remember some of the past. The time I was chaperoned down to the bike track and I attempted to run. It was not as easy as it looked. The runners made it look easy.  All you had to do was move one foot and then the other.

But it was too difficult. I stopped and walked home. It was a good day for a walk.

What else do I remember? I remember I was always tired. I had to have a sleep in the middle of the day and early at night. Before I started something I needed an excuse.  I had to have a reason for resting. For sitting down or lying down.

People adjusted to my continual tiredness. They were always expecting me to rest. We had a routine. But now I’ve gone and wrecked the routine. By getting better. By not feeling tired all the time. I surprise people when I actively do something and then continue on and they always ask me, “When are you going to rest.”

What else has happened? Well my circadian rhythm has changed. I used to have a routine. I now feel different at different times of the day. I now have different routine. Why? Who knows? Perhaps it’s because my pituitary gland was damaged.

And I will mention something, if you don’t tell anybody. My bowel movements. They have changed. Why? Who knows? I know my particular routine has changed. What I am has changed. I am now different. Something to with irreversible brain damage. Get used to the new me. My new saying is. If you change my brain then you change me.