Friday, July 20, or: The Day I Don't Remember

i woke up and i ran at 6:30.

at 8:30, fully recovered from my run, i took the dog and did another mile. i called my dad and asked him to bring me a whole wheat everything bagel on his way over to my mom's.

at 9:30, i texted my cancercamp friend that i had a headache i couldn't shake and that my vision was blurry.

at 1:30 pm, i interviewed a candidate for a job i am filling in chicago.

at 6pm, my dad called me and woke me from a deep sleep, a nap I hadn't planned on taking. "Kel. What are you doing? Why haven't you answered my calls?" I looked at the time and started freaking out. "What's wrong? Where's Mom? What's happening?" I thought it was 6 am. I thought it was the next day.

I have no memory from the hours of 8:30 am until 6pm. They are completely gone to me.

After realizing this, I pieced my day together by looking at text messages and emails sent. I was coherent enough to interview someone well enough that they sent me a thank you. I was coherent enough to text.

But I have no memory, and that scares me and pushes on my rawest of nerves.

I want to be present. To have full consciousness. To be sober and awake.

We figured that the blackout was a result of my body's adrenal system getting used to tapering off prednisone. The painkillers I took last night before sleep did not help the situation either. But I took nothing else. There's no alcohol or narcotics in my body, and haven't been since last night. (There was never any booze.)

I can't explain the fear that gripped me today as I realized I remember nothing. As I iced my head, hoping it would relieve my migraine pain.

Illness is so disorienting. It muddles your mind, captures your sense of self, and obliterates reality. It is in control.

I need to be in control. I will fight for control.

Today, I lost. But my migraine medicine has kicked in and tomorrow I'll be on my way to Maine.

I will win the next round.


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