Useless info? 01/28/2010
 
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Monday is my Cleveland Clinic appointment with the surgeon. Oh man. I'd say send good thoughts my way...but what are good thoughts? Hopes for or against the surgery? Wishes that the medication works...or doesn't? O me! O Life!

So I was going over a rereading some of the older entries here and Dana had mentioned her date of diagnosis....and it left me wondering...am I the only person who doesn't remember the day they were diagnosed? I remember the place, the conversation all that jazz, but the date/time...no flippin idea. In fact, I'm pretty sure I tell people it was Oct 2006 but in fact may have been Sept 2006. I really have no clue. Not so ironically, the same thing goes for the Colitis diagnosis...I was definitely telling other doctors I was diagnosed in May 2009 when I'm pretty sure it was actually June 2009. I suppose being a month off isn't that big of a deal, but those specific days were not burned into my brain like many other people.

Is this a testament to how awful my memory really is? Probably not.
Is this somehow showing that I really don't care?  Not so much.
Is it some indirect form of denial? Highly doubtful

So what is it? Why don't I remember the day? Why don't I care that I don't remember the day? Honestly, I can't even theorize on this one. I got nothing. Perhaps if I would have created a catchy jingle like the one about Columbus sailing the ocean blue (1492), I could remember.

But ask me what day my dog was born? Well, dur, March 18th, 2005.

 


Comments

Fri, 29 Jan 2010 01:49:09

to be honest, i don't remember my DX date - something like August 2005?

it's not as if it's a day i'd particularly want to commemorate. also, i think that if it was "seared indelibly onto my memory", it would almost give it too much weight, y'know? it was a day, something 'interesting' happened and i'm trying to deal with it.

 

Wed, 24 Feb 2010 08:25:13

You know, "they" say that the brain hides things from your consciousness that one is unable to process. For instance, my mother died when I was 10. I remember my father telling me, "Mommy's gone to heaven" but I couldn't tell you anything else about that day. And it's been thirty years. Maybe you don't remember much about your "diagnosis day" for the same reason?

BTW, my DD was June 19, 1998. You can't manage to remember yours and I can't manage to forget mine. Strange how our brains work...

 



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