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Yes, I agree, Doug. Max, a very well controlled rendering of that sense of frightening bemusement. 'Evidently' such a telling word here I suspect. I like also the scenes of harsh awareness such as the blacksmith / magnet image. Bill On Thursday, 7 January 2016, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > A tale I’m sure you rather not have told, Max, but well told, those > memories at least… > > Doug > > On Jan 6, 2016, at 11:59 AM, Max Richards <[log in to unmask] > <javascript:;>> wrote: > > > > My Transient Global Amnesia > > > > Why did you fumble so long with the key > > in the door just now? she asked. > > > > Did I? I have no memory of this. > > In fact, trying to remember my outing > > > > (with our senior Lab), next to nothing > > comes to mind! I recall how far we got, > > > > about to turn for home, nothing after that. > > We’ve crossed through traffic coming home > > > > with me on auto-pilot, evidently. > > I think I’ll just lie down. Soon I stir, > > > > the wife is on the phone for advice, > > calls the ambulance, two nice men > > > > greet me, ask those questions they ask > > a confused patient and his carer. > > > > Yes off to Emergency with him. > > Goodbye doggies, patience now, > > > > till we get back. Emergency is > > still, alert, efficient. I stare at > > > > my boots, the dust shows where we went > > and I went blank. What day is it? > > > > That’s a tricky one - Wednesday, ah yes. > > Nothing comes to mind why today > > > > has brought on this small Absence. > > To prove it’s not a stroke, hours > > > > pass with various tests - reassuring. > > Goodnight, dear, be good to the dogs. > > > > Overnight, in a regular single room > > in the main building, tests roll in, > > > > or I roll out through a labyrinth > > to the MRI machine. Beware, > > > > magnets are on. Head in a clamp, > > masked, prostrate, I trundle deep > > > > into the cylinder, resolved not > > to give in to claustrophobia. > > > > Rattle, bash, clang, as if some > > blacksmith is lining up the magnet. > > > > On and on; the voice from afar > > promises it’s almost done. > > > > It’s done. Back into the wheelchair > > for Rico the orderly and the labyrinth. > > > > His friend had said ‘I’m a survivor > > of the worst out in the street, I can > > > > cope with any hospital test. > > No, says Rico, he panicked. > > > > I feel quietly proud. > > I love the morning’s nurses: > > > > getting my heart beating up > > on the ultrasound screen; > > > > the sound of my blood pulsing > > as if swishing in a goblet; > > > > checking each neck artery in turn, > > proving they work their best for me. > > > > We think this man can go home soon. > > They feed all the test-results into > > > > my computer file. Talk it over > > in a few days with my primary-care-giver. > > > > Meanwhile start on this new medication: > > one per day, a baby aspirin. > > Still wondering what Global may mean. > > > > [as already mentioned, I’m aware. > > and no, Patrick, global doesn’t refer to you. > > M in Seattle, feeling OK - > > as are others who tell me how common it is] > > Douglas Barbour > [log in to unmask] <javascript:;> > https://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/ > > Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuations > 2 (UofAPress). > Recording Dates (Rubicon Press). > > Done in by creation itself. > > I mean the gods. Not us. Well us too. > The gods moved into books. Who wrote the books? > We wrote the books. In whose dream, then are we dreaming? > > Robert Kroetsch. >