What’s my name? It sounds like a philosophical question; something existential. It has taken on new meaning for me.
Where are we? I’m not asking because I don’t know, or am trying to divine a meaning, but it’s a repeated question.
Saum has a concussion. Sometimes she’s getting better; sometimes there is a slide backwards. She will forget events, names of people and pets, what room she’s in. This is scary, mostly for her, but anytime the memory goes it’s also scary for me. Today, she couldn’t remember the name of our dog, Barnabas. We made a sign for her to remember.
