But I called this entry “The Fuzzy Years” because, well, it’s like my memory is a blackboard and someone took an eraser and wiped it across the surface: there’s a lot that I can’t read anymore. A lot of my long-term memory is shot. Whether it’s because of the seizures, the dilantin or some other prescription the docs have given me… who knows? (So if I ever hook up with a girl one day and refuse to acknowledge her existence the next, blame it on the drugs.)
The best example I can think of is scuba diving. I know I’ve been scuba diving because I’ve gone with both of my brothers and my dad. At least I think I’ve been diving with my little brother… I couldn’t tell you because I remember about this much of it —> || Yeah, the amount between those two lines on the screen.
I remember that our guide at Florida Sea Base in Key West liked wearing his hat underwater (one with the all-around brim that you can strap under your chin) and that’s about it. Dad and I were diving partners and he has some good stories to tell people… I don’t remember Lake Superior with my older brother at all. I guess we had fun wearing full-body diving suits and going 100 feet under the surface, but I have to take his word for it.
Ironically, I’ll never be able to make up for those experiences—if you’ve ever had an involuntary loss of consciousness, you’re not allowed to scuba dive. Ever. (Unless you’re dealing with awesome people who decide to stretch the rules a bit since you’ve only had a single seizure 10 or so years ago. And I was expecting to have to snorkel while the Scouts and other adults went diving… yay for Florida Sea Base!)
I was thinking earlier about how to wrap this up—don’t want to end the entry on a down note because no one likes a crybaby—and started to consider some of the effects of those little seizures. Can’t focus on work when it happens, feel hot and sweaty afterwards, want to roll over and take a nap… it’s like sex without the foreplay. Or during-play. And not even going out to dinner first! Just a movie and sleeping with myself. (Adds a new twist to my brain being screwed up, doesn’t it?)
Shawn,
You and I went out diving about 3 times to see the ship wrecks. The last time, we were slowly tipping off the underwater rocks as if sky diving and ended up going too deep – 80+ feet.
We ended up having Nitrogen-narcosis and spent most of that afternoon lying in the sun. The 100+ foot was just me and the dive master…
You and I had quite the blast though going as deep as we did!! It was amazing that the water was so clear in that area!! (Too cold for sediment to block the sunlight)