Can’t Remember to Forget You

Hello my loves!

I received some unusual news this week. My life since August has been a mess of doctors and medical contraptions and what have you, and I met with a new neurologist yesterday. I’ve had migraines since the age of twelve and have seen my share of brain docs, but this one was brought on by a need to get me away from scary heart attack causing migraine meds, and also because I don’t remember most of August.

I knew I’d been having some issues, brainily speaking, but I chalked it up to stress, medications, and hell, even age at this point.

The good doc sat me down and we did some tests. Things like he would list four words and I’d have to repeat them back.

Except I couldn’t.

IT WAS SUPER WEIRD.

I could hear him. I could hear the words he was saying. I knew the words. But I couldn’t get them to come back out of my mouth. I couldn’t get my brain to form the words in my mind.

It was so freaking frustrating.

It was also really freaking fascinating.

And oh my god freaking terrifying.

I can’t remember all four of the words, hardy har, but one of them was raccoon. I heard him say it, I wanted to say it, but I couldn’t form it. I was getting really scared and annoyed by the process and in a burst of frustration, I sort of shouted, “ROCKET!” at him.

The good news is that since my brain made the connection to Rocket the Raccoon, the doc says my brain isn’t broken.

The bad news is that after all our tests he says there is “evidence of damage” to my brain.

I’m going to go ahead and put “Told I have brain damage.” right up there on the list of things I never want to be told again. It’s nestled right after, “You had a heart attack.” and right before, “Did you know you can get tonsil cancer?”

My body is such a prick.

So, anyway, my brain is a little broken. According to the doc, it could have been caused during the medicine mix-up/heart attack, during a mini-stroke, or from my compound migraines.

I’ve only been getting compound migraines for the last three years but golly gee do I hate them so. They act like strokes. I was having one the night of the heart fiasco.

Once, when our son was but a wee little human meatloaf in swaddling, I was trying to sing him to sleep and a migraine hit. I was mid-verse and the words started coming out in gibberish. I was thinking in proper words, but nothing would come out that wasn’t nonsense.

A year or so ago, I decided to watch a scary movie with the hubs. I got a little too scared because I set off a migraine that left me literally unable to speak. At all. No words. Or sounds. I was fine, but the right side of my body was numb and I couldn’t talk. I knew what was happening and spent the next three hours texting to my husband who was right beside me, assuring him I would live so he wouldn’t call 911.

Basically, compound migraines are super awful. I recommend avoiding them. Heart attacks, too. Those are full of suck.

And things since the episode haven’t been swell, brain-wise. I forget a lot. Like, a lot. I will get replies to emails I don’t remember sending. I will think I’ve responded to messages but nope. I have to write everything down the minute I think of it or it’s gone forever. I’ve made some massive banking errors. I get a little confused what was a dream and what happened for real. I sometimes get confused on our pets’ names. (When you have as many critters as we do, it’s a long role call to get to the right name…)

Again, I was thinking, STRESS. OLD. SOMETHING OTHER THAN BROKEN BRAIN.

Off we go now to have MRIs and tests and what not. Wee. I’m still sorting through all the results from my heart being wonky.

I sort of feel like I turned 33 and my warranty expired…

But! Lest this all sound super depressing and WAH, I have to say, I’m totally fascinated by the broken brain thing.Thankfully, I’m not irreparably damaged, and was told I’ll be able to do something akin to physical therapy, but like, for yer noggin, and get back to the good old days of thinking.

While part of me wanted to scream and cry and say the word raccoon yesterday, the other part of me was like, “This is fucking wacky, and I desperately need to understand the science behind it.”

So, that’s my week thus far. A tricky heart and a broken brain. If my courage goes missing, I’m one pair of ruby slippers away from a grand adventure.

I’ll likely keep things posted on here with the brain therapy because dude, it’s BRAIN THERAPY. It sounds so neat. My cerebellum is going to be doing chin-ups and shit. I assume. That’s how this will work, yeah?

I hope you all are having the most fantastic of weeks!

Until next time,

Peace, Love, and Braaaaaaaainsssssss.

7 Comments

  1. Yikes! Good luck with the therapy. I always tell my aunt who is 87, read, watch Jeopardy, do crossword puzzles. In other words, exercise your brain. She does and I really think it helps. She’s forgetful, but nothing like my mom’s husband (age 79) who can’t even complete his sentences. I really believe the therapy will help. Saying a little prayer for you, Summer, and keeping you in my thoughts.

  2. Having just spent several months battling mono-induced encephalitis, I have a small sliver of an idea of what you’re going through. It is crazy ass scary when your brain goes wonky on you. When the thoughts you think don’t always get through, and the things you hear don’t register properly. I hope answers and hope are forthcoming VERY soon! <3

  3. Wow. Your life, Summer. O.o I’m so with you though on how interesting it is. Sending cyber hugs and prayers the Brain Therapy works quickly.

  4. I totally understand the whole broken brain thing. My brain tumor causes all kinds of fun moments for my family to tease me about forever. Like the time my hubby said “I love you,” and I responded “I love you too.” He repeated, “I love you,” and I responded again, “I love you too.” Brow furrowed, he said, “I *love* you!” and (getting a bit frustrated), I repeated “I love you too!” Finally, he asked, “Why do you just keep saying ‘hi’ when I tell you that I love you??” Apparently, I was the only one who heard me saying “I love you.” Everyone else heard the single word that was actually coming out of my mouth.

    Or there was the time that, for an entire week, the words “peanut butter” sent me into an uncontrollable sobbing fit. No reason, that I can tell, but “peanut butter” made me horribly sad. (My son loves to tease me about this one, because he can still make me cry by saying “peanut butter” with just the right inflection. And for a teenage boy to have that kind of control over Mom’s wonky brain is a temptation too great to resist.)

  5. Oh, Fizzy. Like you haven’t had enough to deal with. Good luck with the brain excercises. (I wonder if brain boot camp is a thing?) xo

  6. Love your attitude about this, how it is an adventure to learn from. I can already see one of your next characters remembering a vital clue after going through intense brain therapy. Good luck and stay safe and healthy!

  7. oh Fizzy, I’ve never known anyone who could weave so much humour out of such a rotten bag of apples. On one hand, I want to simply cry for you and then you make me laugh out loud – “My body is such a prick.”
    I hope that wonderful part of your brain never breaks 🙂

    … and I hope that your week is really, really good!

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