It’s a strange sensation, waking up somewhere when you don’t know where you are, how long you’ve been there, nor how you got there. Head injuries play a funny game with one’s memory. I mentioned that I had some spotty moments of consciousness after the accident, but I also lost quite a bit of memory leading up to the accident, and even a chunk of the entire week prior.
I remember that I spent the morning with my friend, John. I remember lunch, and that I no longer like fried pickles. I had to ask my daughter if I picked her up from school, and she reminded me that she had stayed home from school that day (coincidentally due to a minor concussion). I remember being at my other daughter’s home and playing with my granddaughters. I don’t remember what route I took to get there. I usually use my GPS anyway. I remember being at the intersection where the accident took place, but I don’t remember driving from my daughter’s to there. I don’t recall the accident at all. As far as I know, I still haven’t seen the train that hit me.
I recall holding onto my phone while I was in the hospital, but I do not remember some of the text conversations I had, nor do I remember posting on social media. A week, or so, later I asked one of my coworkers how they had known about the accident so quickly. It turns out that I had told them when they had texted about something else. I did not remember it at all and they sent me a screenshot of the conversation. I’d like to say that jogged my memory, but I still don’t recall the conversation.
I don’t know how long I was in the emergency room or if I was in intensive care or recovery at all. I woke up in my regular room after I had already had surgery on my elbow, but they were still trying to figure out what (if anything) to do about the rest of me.
Truth be told, I wonder if the brain blocks out certain aspects of trauma to protect us. On the other hand, why does it take so many other memories with it? In this case, I don’t feel a need to fill in any blanks. I just want to move forward.
