I have a black hole in my head

I felt a blank space. It was inside my head, like a big black hole, sucking all my memories away. That black hole was a disease. I was grappling for the name of that disease. I think it started with an ‘A’ or something. What was it again?

           Lost in my thought, I had not heard the doorknob twisting and some total strangers entered my room.

           “Who are you?” I asked the strangers, staring into their eyes.

           “Silly! I’m your daughter!” Someone in the center said.

           “No, you are not. My daughter left for work! She won’t be coming back.”

           “Oh dear. I must call the doctor.” She said, using another term which I was not familiar with. Doctor.

*

           I walked out of the door to the park. To the park was something I had to remember. I turned confidently down the road until the park was in sight. I walked in the park for a while. I felt like going home. I turned down the road, only to see two ways. Did I live in Avenue 1 or 2? I suppose I live in Avenue 1, totally unaware that I lived in Avenue 2! I into a block, and headed to the door which I thought was my home. I put my key inside and gave a twist. Why didn’t it budge? It seemed like it was stuck. Suddenly someone answered the door. Another total stranger. I was just about to ask who he was, when he asked me the exact same thing.

           “Who are you?” He looked at me with confused eyes.

           “I am ummmm…” Oh no! I forgot my name!

           “Oh dear. I think you’re lost. I’ll be posting it on Facebook. Hope your family members will come to collect you.” It was another term I was unfamiliar with. Facebook.

*

           The next moment, I saw that someone which I had saw again that day in the room. She came in and muttered some sort of apology. She hurriedly took my hand and brought me out of the house. As we walked into a block from the second Avenue, I started a conversation.

           “Who are you?” I asked defiantly.

           “As I have said before, I am your daughter.” She replied.

           “And why didn’t you say your name at the door. You should have said Leah Smith.” It was another thing I wasn’t familiar with. Leah Smith.

*

           I was back home in the same room again. There was a man in a white coat sitting next to me. He asked me a variety of questions and recorded my answers on some paper. So, this was what Facebook was. I did not realize that he was actually a doctor, not Facebook. Instead, Facebook was a company. 

           “Visibility, her Alzheimer’s has worsened. We might need to consider more treatments or out her at a stay at the hospital. ” He spoke in a rather professional manner.

           “Thank you, Facebook. Now can you repeat what my disease was called again?” I asked. I was sure to know the name of my disease.

           “I’m called a doctor.”

           “No, you’re called Facebook.

           “Ma’am, you are confused.” Another term that I wasn’t familiar with. Confused.

*

           That Facebook guy has been coming to check on me often now. He looks me in the eyes like I’m some maniac or something. I have already found out the name of my disease. It’s called Alzheimer’s .

           “Mum, do you know how serious this is? You need to go for immediate treatment.”

           “I’m not your Mum, and I aren’t seeing no Facebook guy.” I argued.

           “Mum. You got to listen to me.” She spoke convincingly .

           “Why should I?” Those people were trying to coy me.

           “Because I love you.” It was another term I wasn’t familiar with. Love.

*

           Doctor. Facebook. Confused. Love. Leah Smith. What do those terms mean. What do these terms mean? I turned on my phone and typed in the word love. I saw nothing but a definition on a dictionary. an intense feeling of deep affection. Now that added 1 more word to my list. Affection.

*

           Things started becoming clear for me. Alzheimer’s was a disease, and it caused me to be confused about love and Facebook, and the doctor was trying to help me all along. I walked back out of the door and closed it. I found it open. I walked to my neighbour’s house. I went in and asked her a bunch of questions. She began patiently explaining to me. I wanted to get some paper to write it down, but I still could not get the word. It started with note or something.

           “Umm. I need a note… What’s that note thingy called?” Thankfully, she brought me what I wanted and called it a notebook. After visiting her house many times, my memories improved, until that one day I asked her, “Hey, why are you always helping me?” “Because you helped me a few years ago.” She replied with a bright smile. I began visualizing it. I saw the blank look in her eyes when I was explaining to her. We helped each other!

           In no time at all, I had almost most of my memories back, and understood what most people were saying. Words became as easy as painting a sheet of already white paper white again, instead of that painful blister on my tongue and inside my brain. The empty space was filled up. I could communicate. The doctor was very impressed with my progress and said that I could even be rid from Alzheimer’s .

           There are still things which was lost in the great black hole. Things like my childhood, my youth. Those were precious memories that were unable to be retrieved, ever again. Lost was lost. Let’s just try to save the things that are not yet lost.

           Now I am like any normal elderly person. I was even thought hoe to browse Facebook, and I am having a lot of fun with my daughter.

           As Oprah Winfrey once said, ‘Helping others is how we help ourselves.’ How true indeed……