Cognitive rehabilitation. This is therapy for thinking. Mine was with a speech-language pathologist, Ms. McCloskey, three mornings a week for a year. She didn't try to give me my old memory back. She taught me how to work around it: notebooks, routines, checklists, breaking big jobs into small steps, and checking my work. She also taught me the parts of the brain on that paper plate. I still have the plate.
Routines. Same wake-up time. Same breakfast. Same route to work. Same place for keys, wallet and Palm: a blue bowl by the door. When everything is in the same place every day, my memory doesn't have to work as hard. I'll repeat that: a routine is a memory you don't have to remember.
Lists. For everything. Groceries. Packing. How to make Terri's favorite chicken. The steps for checking in a book at work, taped inside my locker.
An alarm watch. A plain digital watch with five daily alarms. They go off at 8:00 (check the book), 12:00 (lunch, and check the book), 3:00 (wrap up work), 5:00 (check the book), and 9:00 (review the day with Terri). I have worn it every day since 1996.
My Palm III. Terri gave it to me for Christmas last year. It beeps to remind me of every appointment, it keeps every phone number, and it fits in my shirt pocket. It changed my life almost as much as the watch. I explain how I set it up on the memory book page.
The neuropsychologist's testing. It sounds scary. It was eight hours of puzzles and lists and questions. But afterward Dr. Lanham could tell me exactly what was hurt and, just as important, what wasn't. My reasoning was good. My vocabulary was good. My attention to detail was still good, as long as I had time. That's how I ended up at the library.
Terri's patience. This should be number one. She answered the cat question forty times a day. She learned the workarounds with me. She told me the truth when I was getting angry, and she told me the truth when I was doing better. We go to a brain injury support group together on the first Tuesday of the month, at a hospital here in Raleigh. It has a group for survivors and a group for families, and coffee for both.
Time. Most of my recovery came in the first two years. But I'm still getting a little better. I could not have written this page in 1997. Brains heal slowly, and they keep healing longer than people think.