For several weeks, I’ve been having strange sensations.
As though I am melting, like chocolate in the hot sun.
As though I am walking through mud and can’t pick up my feet.
As though I weigh 400 pounds, even as my actual weight continues to drop.
When these were just occasional and physical, they didn’t stop me from doing all I needed to do for Tom, for the house, at the cabin. Sure, I cancelled a couple of freelance gigs, and that hurt, but my clients understood the circumstances.
Today, though, the mud reached my brain. My thinking. It’s like I’m back in the first month of recovery from brain surgery.
Michelle asked me some simple questions about our project and I couldn’t answer them.
Tom asked me where some things were and I had no idea.
I had trouble following directions in a simple recipe, re-reading them a dozen times.
I tried to write an update about Tom for friends and family, but couldn’t think of a single sentence.
Luckily I didn’t have to drive.
Today’s penny is a 2015, the year I had brain surgery, less than 10 months ago. I’m not fully recovered.