One traumatic event might change a person. Seven traumatic events transform a person. |
Writing a blog is supposed to be therapeutic. At least, that is what my therapist says. However, communicating is an art form, difficult to learn, and relearning feels impossible. Not to mention the pure fear and embarrassment in sharing the experiences. In the past two weeks, I have seen three doctors and two therapists, tallying eight office visits and 1360 miles. My schedule next week is less hectic, thankfully. So, what did I learn this week? Nothing new, unfortunately. Food left out of the refrigerator will ruin. Forgetting to put food back in the fridge will make my wife understandably angry yet lovingly forgiving. I feel more like a child in need of constant supervision. After 18 months in recovery, explaining "I forgot." is wearing thin for both of us. The disappointments caused by short-term memory loss are adding up. My inability to recall details is frustrating. It is also embarrassing when it creates problems affecting others. My oldest grandson visited for five days, helping with chores. I gave him $100 for gas and a snack for the drive home. The part I forgot to tell him was to split the change with his sister for church camp. Without going into details, he had to return a purchased item so they could have money for camp. The event with my son-in-law was more costly. I lent him a camper trailer for a family vacation at the lake. I told him to use 10 to 12 pounds of dry ice to precool the refrigerator. I did not realize I said "pounds" instead of "ounces." He did not question me and purchased 12 pounds of expensive dry ice. Dry ice is unreturnable, by the way. My daughter did not enjoy increasing the budget for the trip. When the brain fails, the results are embarrassing and discouraging. I disappointed and embarrassed my grandson. I created an issue between my daughter and her husband. Saying, "I'm sorry," is also getting very old. |