“I gave you my Bible, didn’t I? I’d like to have it. I need to get back with the Lord.”
(Yes, today Effie’s back for another visit.)
“Do you have a comb?” … “I need my uppers.” … “I’m cold!” … “You’re sitting on my blanket.” … “Are you going to get me something to eat?”
(Well, she never stopped saying that last one.)
“It looks like I have a lot to learn. All these things, I don’t know what they are. I’ll have to memorize them all. Oh, well, I guess it’s written down somewhere.”
(I don’t know about you, but I find that one adorable.)
“Are we going to the funeral for that man that got run over by a car?” No, Effie, that was in your imagination. “No.” [‘Looks at me like I’m crazy and repeats story.] Yes, Effie, your mind has been having problems; you have hallucinations. “S-h-h, don’t say it so loudly. Someone might hear you.”
(L! O! L!)
“I see a cup of water over there. Give me some water.” Effie, please don’t tell me what to do.
(But you, Dear Blog Reader, are still cherishing the first line of this blog, aren’t you? … Me, too. )
“Is this okay to walk on?” Sure! Give it a try. [attempts] “I guess I’d better not. [points at carpet] There’s flame from here to there.”
(I think she misspoke and that this wasn’t a hallucination.)
Out of 260 days “gone”, Effie hasn’t “come back” for many; today makes 4. (12/27, 5/27, 7/17, 8/19) That’s 1½ percent (3% since May 27).
Though these visits are mostly consumed with the amnesia factor, it’s at least some level of interaction. For the first time, today, when the nurse asked Effie to take a deep breath, she actually did.
So. 4 out of 260. A 1% hiccup. But the preponderance of days are mysterious and maniacal, mechanical and menial. Hmm: that sounds like a microcosm of life itself.
I’ll close this blog with today’s jewel second only to the one I opened with:
What have you been thinking about today?
“That’s a military secret.”