 
				
			
		Ah yes, the gifts of a traumatic brain injury — those
delightful little surprises life sprinkles in when you least expect it. Some
days I’m firing on all cylinders, feeling like a motivational poster in motion.
And other days… well, other days I’m convinced I’ve just landed from Planet
“Wait, What?”
My wife, bless her patience, is always reminding me: “Put
things on the calendar the moment you know about them.” She says it
lovingly, like she’s talking to a golden retriever holding a sandwich. And I mean
to listen — I really do. But then something shiny rolls by, and just like that,
my good intention packs its bags and leaves the building faster than Elvis in
Vegas.
Today was one of those “perfect TBI storms.” Every possible
chance for confusion? Oh, it took it. And then asked for seconds.
It started with an email from someone wanting to set up a
date and time to be on the podcast. They wanted to do a quick Zoom call first,
just to talk about the topic. Easy enough, right? Except my brain decided this
person was a friend of a fellow survivor who makes T-shirts. So naturally, I
replied all excited about giving him some free promotion for his shirts.
Several hours later, I checked Messenger — which, by the
way, is not the best way to reach me if you need something urgently.
Email me. I have only 23 unread messages there instead of the 57 waiting in
Messenger. Anyway, this guy’s message said, “Check your email.” So I checked.
Nothing. I told him to resend it… and that’s when it finally hit me: I had
already emailed him. I just didn’t realize it was him. So somewhere out
there is a very confused man wondering why I’m so eager to talk about his
T-shirts.
Later that day, my wife handed me some silverware and said,
“Can you put this in the dishwasher?”
Simple enough task, right? Except my brain heard “coffee pot.”
So now I’m standing in the kitchen, staring at a spoon,
wondering how I’m supposed to fit it inside a coffee maker. Finally I ask, “Um…
why do I need to put this in the coffee pot?”
She just blinked, sighed, and said (louder this time), “I
said dishwasher.” That’s when it clicked — she had said the right thing;
my brain just translated it into nonsense. It wasn’t her fault. The signal just
took the scenic route.
And that, my friends, was my day — a rollercoaster of
confusion, comedy, and delayed comprehension.
How was yours?
