Today I woke up and felt like my brain was wrapped in cotton. I drove the kids to camp, dropped off recycling, even did the grocery shopping and I can’t tell you anything about it. It’s like it happened in a movie that I saw on cable in a motel room 5 years ago.
Days like this are scary. I just got a phone call from a teaching gig (sometimes they like to talk to me “personally” so they can – I don’t know – because phones are just easier for some folks!) I tried to explain about the whole phone brain fog I-won’t-remember-anything-if-this-isn’t-an-emergency-please-email-me thing. It’s so frustrating – not the call, or the caller, but my own brain. My frustration level just rises exponentially as I scrabble around looking for paper and pen, looking up ANY kind of physical document to help jog my memory about the call. I’m frustrated, the caller is frustrated, what a bad scene (man).
If it’s hard for me to understand – me who lives this – how much more impossible is it for others to understand! And now that I have insurance I find that I’m scared to find out exactly what is up. Why is it that writtenwords are memorable, but disembodied voices are fleeting? I could tell from the coolness of the voice on the other end that they were as frustrated as I am by this situation – except I could also tell that they thought I wasn’t being straight with them.
God I hate the phone. I hate that I have to explain this thing to people, and I hate that some folks don’t believe that there could be a problem like this. I hate that I don’t entirely understand it, thus making it almost impossible for me to convince others that it IS real. If I called someone and they acted like such an airhead (as I regularly do on the phone) I would seriously doubt the wisdom of having them come teach at my shop. But I can’t take that final step of not answering the phone. Not only am I afraid of not being available in an emergency, I just can’t give up that connection without a fight.
If nothing’s expected of me in an audial experience – say, when I listen to the radio or a book on tape – I don’t feel as flustered, confused and frustrated. Don’t ask me what I just heard, though. It’s sort of like white noise to me. Often my husband will pop in my office after catching part of an interesting interview on the radio and say, “What was THAT?!” I usually have no idea what he’s talking about. Unless something’s really caught my fancy, I barely pay attention (but I suppose a lot of folks are like that when they listen to stuff…)