Memoir (part 3)

It's just too painful.  Still.

(Sigh)

I need more sleep.

More time.

More rest.

I'll be back.

Memoir, part 2

It took about two weeks for me to start "coming down" from the mania.  Lithium was given to me first, but not effective.  Depakote was next and eventually it worked.  How did my family know I was returning from the madness?  Easy.  There was a basketball court outside.  I was given a ball and instantly went for the hoop, making a layup.  My cognition was obviously returning because of this recognition.  Even though I was a little off-balance because of the meds, I knew what was going on.  It makes a lot of sense to have the basketball court be where we find out if I'm okay or not.  Ever since I was 7, I lived and breathed basketball.  My friends and I did slam dunk contests at our birthday parties, trying to do Dominique Wilkins and Michael Jordan-style dunks on the adjustable hoops.  Sure, I was good at schoolwork, but my passion was basketball. Basketball, basketball, basketball, basketball, and basketball.  And then some more basketball.  What I loved about the game was how non-verbal it was, how body language spoke volumes about passion, desire and love of the game, in all its aspects: shooting, rebounding, stealing, defensive positions, passing, and dribbling.

I'm pleased to report that the learning curve associated with a cochlear implant is pretty much complete and that I have adjusted wonderfully!