*sapphoq healing tbi
Monday, June 04, 2007
A.B.C. Memories Meme
A. "Does anyone here have an aardvark?..."
B. Batman bangs one summer, cut by my mother. I thought they rocked.
C. Celantano's, a store on Roosevelt Avenue.
D. I used to help Miss Davis in the school library. She had her left leg amputated cuz of cancer.
I was saddened by her death years later.
E. "Everything is beautiful in its' own way..."
F. I swam "like a fish" and I still do.
G. My friend Peggy H. took me to see the play "Grease" in New York City.
H. Life magazine did a spread on the play "Boys in the Band." It was my first exposure to
information on homosexual men and I was fascinated.
I. "i before e except after c."
J. Jesus-tripping. My friend Nancy T. and I drinking Moygan David wine and eating matzas
in a Bloomfield park.
K. I liked bat kites.
L. "L is for the way you look at me..."
M. The first time I saw a mouse in the kitchen, I stood on a chair.
N. The word 'nigger' was socially acceptable in the house I grew up with. I learned better in
seventh grade with the advent of two black classmates and I got to be close friends with
one of them. Thank-you Ann P!
O. I smoked oregano for a whole summer, thinking it was pot.
P. An aunt and uncle had a poodle named Pepe. He liked to do tricks.
Q. I was a founding member of the short-lived Queer Nation in Albany New York.
R. Rehabilitation assumes that I was habilitated in the first place. I wasn't.
S. "Wednesday is Prince Spaghetti Day." It was Ronzoni in our household though.
T. Another uncle was into model trains. He had a set-up in his basement with a miniature
village and everything.
U. From first through twelfth grade, I went to schools that required uniforms.
V. Nancy T. joined the Air Force and was stationed at Valdosta, Georgia.
W. My mother used to tell me, "The world doesn't revolve around you." Still, a modicum of
attention or interest from her directed my way would have been nice.
X. "X marks the spot." I was quite taken by the book "Treasure Island" and by all things pirate
when I was in grade school.
Y. I used to hate the color yellow.
Z. I remember watching zebras running in Africa on Mutual of Omaha's "Wild Kingdom."
spike: sapphoq healing t.b.i.
B. Batman bangs one summer, cut by my mother. I thought they rocked.
C. Celantano's, a store on Roosevelt Avenue.
D. I used to help Miss Davis in the school library. She had her left leg amputated cuz of cancer.
I was saddened by her death years later.
E. "Everything is beautiful in its' own way..."
F. I swam "like a fish" and I still do.
G. My friend Peggy H. took me to see the play "Grease" in New York City.
H. Life magazine did a spread on the play "Boys in the Band." It was my first exposure to
information on homosexual men and I was fascinated.
I. "i before e except after c."
J. Jesus-tripping. My friend Nancy T. and I drinking Moygan David wine and eating matzas
in a Bloomfield park.
K. I liked bat kites.
L. "L is for the way you look at me..."
M. The first time I saw a mouse in the kitchen, I stood on a chair.
N. The word 'nigger' was socially acceptable in the house I grew up with. I learned better in
seventh grade with the advent of two black classmates and I got to be close friends with
one of them. Thank-you Ann P!
O. I smoked oregano for a whole summer, thinking it was pot.
P. An aunt and uncle had a poodle named Pepe. He liked to do tricks.
Q. I was a founding member of the short-lived Queer Nation in Albany New York.
R. Rehabilitation assumes that I was habilitated in the first place. I wasn't.
S. "Wednesday is Prince Spaghetti Day." It was Ronzoni in our household though.
T. Another uncle was into model trains. He had a set-up in his basement with a miniature
village and everything.
U. From first through twelfth grade, I went to schools that required uniforms.
V. Nancy T. joined the Air Force and was stationed at Valdosta, Georgia.
W. My mother used to tell me, "The world doesn't revolve around you." Still, a modicum of
attention or interest from her directed my way would have been nice.
X. "X marks the spot." I was quite taken by the book "Treasure Island" and by all things pirate
when I was in grade school.
Y. I used to hate the color yellow.
Z. I remember watching zebras running in Africa on Mutual of Omaha's "Wild Kingdom."
spike: sapphoq healing t.b.i.
Labels: disconnected memories, meme, t.b.i., tbi, traumatic+brain+injury
¶ 2:16 PM 0 comments links to this post
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
DISCONNECTED MEMORIES 2/28/07
My memory has been tested and rated as rather superior in spite of my t.b.i. "Superior even to people without brain injuries," the nice neuropsych doc told me. "At the 99th percentile superior."
The test showed that I could recite 9 and almost 10 numbers forwards and backwards-- meaning I suppose that I remain wonderfully equipped to remember phone numbers. I was never told if that translates somehow into a magical ability to remember who called me this morning.
Remembering what I had for breakfast this morning is easy because I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning. Yet, some of my memories fall into the category of, "I remember that I remembered doing this. I no longer have the actual memory itself. But I do have the memory of remembering."
There are whole sections of my life that have been wiped. I have found those memories gradually seeping back in, like a steady leak of water. Drops of water that hit me at random intervals instead of the pot placed on the floor for that purpose. Those I record in one of the other blogs for posterity or hilarity.
I was with a good friend today who asked me if I remember her doing such-and-such. "Oh, you are the one who did that?" I replied. I sorted through and attached that particular disconnected memory to my friend. I remembered details of having been told about the such-and-such, but not who had done them. I filed her name away. Now there is a storage part of Briella* that contains the following: It was this here good friend who did the such-and-such that I remember having been told about. Another link in the mess of necklaces partially restored. Still no memory of the friend telling me about it. But a name to go with one of the such-and-suches floating around in the cerebral atmosphere.
Interior fragmented landscape not withstanding, I am not complaining. Briella* is rather cheeky and as I reach up mentally to give her a hug, she slaps my hand away and says in stern reproach: I don't like being fondled by strangers.
"Briella* it's me," I attempt to reassure her. She walks away muttering under her breath words that I dare not write for English class or in any blog.
sapphoq healing tbi
*Briella is my post-t.b.i. brain-- brilliant, just a bit sideways.
My memory has been tested and rated as rather superior in spite of my t.b.i. "Superior even to people without brain injuries," the nice neuropsych doc told me. "At the 99th percentile superior."
The test showed that I could recite 9 and almost 10 numbers forwards and backwards-- meaning I suppose that I remain wonderfully equipped to remember phone numbers. I was never told if that translates somehow into a magical ability to remember who called me this morning.
Remembering what I had for breakfast this morning is easy because I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning. Yet, some of my memories fall into the category of, "I remember that I remembered doing this. I no longer have the actual memory itself. But I do have the memory of remembering."
There are whole sections of my life that have been wiped. I have found those memories gradually seeping back in, like a steady leak of water. Drops of water that hit me at random intervals instead of the pot placed on the floor for that purpose. Those I record in one of the other blogs for posterity or hilarity.
I was with a good friend today who asked me if I remember her doing such-and-such. "Oh, you are the one who did that?" I replied. I sorted through and attached that particular disconnected memory to my friend. I remembered details of having been told about the such-and-such, but not who had done them. I filed her name away. Now there is a storage part of Briella* that contains the following: It was this here good friend who did the such-and-such that I remember having been told about. Another link in the mess of necklaces partially restored. Still no memory of the friend telling me about it. But a name to go with one of the such-and-suches floating around in the cerebral atmosphere.
Interior fragmented landscape not withstanding, I am not complaining. Briella* is rather cheeky and as I reach up mentally to give her a hug, she slaps my hand away and says in stern reproach: I don't like being fondled by strangers.
"Briella* it's me," I attempt to reassure her. She walks away muttering under her breath words that I dare not write for English class or in any blog.
sapphoq healing tbi
*Briella is my post-t.b.i. brain-- brilliant, just a bit sideways.
Labels: disconnected memories, disconnection, memory
¶ 11:55 PM 0 comments links to this post
