Three Bullet Points
I’m feeling very disoriented.
I can’t remember what day it is.
Did I fall down?
I admit than when it comes to getting the news, I’m a little old-fashioned. I’m one of only a few people on my block who still subscribes to the dead tree edition of our local newspaper, and part of my morning routine is still walking out to the mailbox to fetch the paper. I still like to start my day with the comics page, something no online edition seems to have adequately replicated.
I wouldn’t have thought of this as a particularly hazardous part of my daily routine, but a few weeks ago we had a quick burst of freezing rain in the morning. I can remember hearing the freezing rain hitting the skylight when I got out of the shower. I remember noting how icy the driveway was as I went to retrieve the newspaper. I remember crawling back to the house on my hands and knees becuse I didn’t think I could get the footing to stand back up again.
But I don’t remember falling.
She Who Puts Up With Me came downstairs a few minutes later. Even in my befuddled state, however, the basics of effective communication stayed with me and I knew that I needed to give her the most important information in three concise bullet points to enable her to make the correct decision. Which she did, though by the time the ambulance arrived I had repeated my bullet points a few times because I couldn’t remember saying them before.
I can remember the paramedics arriving and asking me the standard questions. I could tell them the date, but only because I stole a glance at the newspaper (another advantage of getting the paper edition, by the way). I could not remember who the president was, and the headline about a “historic second impeachment” made no sense. But I surprised myself when I was able to recall my manager’s name to send an email that I would not be able to attend any meetings for a while (Subject: “I fell and hit my head”).
I was able to walk to the ambulance, though the paramedics kept a helpful grip on my arm so I wouldn’t slip and fall again. With COVID restrictions, She Who Puts Up With Me had to stay behind. By the time I was buckled in I could feel bits of context slipping back into place. The date—Thursday, January 14, 2021—locked in as something I could actually remember, not just look up.
At the emergency room, I was immediately taken to an exam room and changed into a gown. As I waited, I took out my phone and started reading the morning’s headlines, and remarked on the fact that I seemed to know all my passcodes without having to remember them. Each headline felt like a little puzzle piece of context, connecting myself to some memory and bringing several more pieces with it. Memory, I discovered, is deeply associative, and the best way to remember things is to remember other things.
I overheard some of the hospital staff outside my room talking about the number of slip-and-fall injuries they’d seen that morning. By the time the doctor arrived to examine me I was starting to feel well on the road back to normal. The doctor seemed satisfied that whatever injury I’d suffered was most likely mild, and explained that he didn’t think a CAT scan would be worth whatever slight risk came with the radiation dose. But they did want to keep me for a few hours of observation just in case.
During that time, I went through my work emails, cancelled meetings, and sent an email to my team letting them know I would be out for the day and by the way be careful because it’s slippery outside this morning. When the doctor returned, I told him how I’d spent the time. The doctor noted that my executive functioning seemed to be normal. I replied that it was more like middle management functioning, and that was when the doctor told me I could go home.
All this was about three weeks ago, and I don’t seem to have suffered any long-term effects other than the cost of the ambulance ride and emergency room exam (fortunately my Health Savings Account can easily cover the deductible in my insurance plan). Mom asked that I check in with her every day for a while so she wouldn’t worry. Dad, being a neurologist, instructed me to check every few hours that my pupils were the same size, since mismatched pupils are an early warning sign of a particularly deadly brain injury which can sometimes go unnoticed.
More than anything, I’m grateful to have She Who Puts Up With Me. Because in an emergency it’s not enough to be able to communicate clearly and concisely in three actionable bullet points. Someone has to be there to listen and take action when you can’t, and I am so very fortunate to have someone there to catch me when I fall.