Some people know exactly who they are. There are even people that have a general idea of what kind of person they are. I would assume that most everyone even knows their own name. I think you would agree that our memories make us and that without them we don't know who we are. In a hospital bed there is a man that is about to wake up to find that he knows nothing more about himself than his name. He's very lucky to remember his own name for he is very sick and had recently been resuscitated. This man's eyes adjust to the light in the room quickly as they pop wide open and snap strait to the nurse standing at his bedside. She smiles and asks him for his name and birth date. "My name is Thomas but I'm afraid I can't remember the event of my birth." His words are quick and take the smile off of the nurse's face. They ask him to wait for the doctor that will be around to see him in an hour.
Tom waits patiently with his eyes closed for his doctor to come see him. He tries to recall a memory from his life to give him a clue as to who he is. He feels that his mind is clean and empty of identity. To his own amusement, he can think of nothing more than his first name. With a chuckle he introduces himself to the empty room. For many more minutes, thinking about his past life becomes a game. What valuable life skills must he have learned? His hands feel rough, they harbor many scars, but there's something strong and sure about them. Could he be a laborer? Perhaps he is a construction worker that had an accident on the job. As for pain, he really can't find too much to complain about. He can't find any bandages on his body or recent surgical markings. The only real pain he feels is coming from his back when he tries to sit up. Further investigation of his own body was needed. Taking a look at his legs reveals to him good lean muscle tone and no visible rashes or scars. He remarks to the room that he must have either been doing a lot of standing or a lot of running. The last thing Tom examines about himself is his hair. He slowly reaches up and places both hands on his head. His hair is big and curly, creating quite a lot of cushion between his scalp and the rest of the world. Tom lies back down, calm, quiet, in defeat.
A little while later, Tom's doctor enters the room. The doctor approaches the foot of Tom's bed holding a clipboard in his crossed arms, then Tom hears the doctor letting out a sigh of confusion. Tom lifts his head and looks at the doctor with his wide eyes. The doctor asks Tom a few questions. Mostly they ask Tom about his memory and current personal wellness assessment. Of course, even now, the only thing Tom knows for sure is his name. All other questions are given about the same line. "I don't know." Despite the lack of self that Tom is in possession of, he keeps a smile and expresses his joy in the situation. The emptiness is calming and amusing to Tom. The doctor does not share in his delight and explains that the hospital has no idea where Tom came from. What the hospital does have on record is their own account of Tom's death, and rescue shortly after, as well as scans of Tom's brain that showed two suspect masses.
"I don't suppose those could be the left and right sides of my brain?" Tom wasn't smiling anymore. As the doctor explains the trouble in finding his next of kin, Tom realizes what's happened to him. He's not entirely sure when it happened but he did die. Whatever is growing in his head has caused amnesia and killed him. Without his memory or any way of finding out who he is, his family will not know where their Thomas has gone, if he even has family. He knows nothing about himself and has no way of filling in the blanks. He may very well die again while torn between the possible realities of being forgotten or mourned. But Who Knows?
Story by: James D. Gray
1/30/18
Tom waits patiently with his eyes closed for his doctor to come see him. He tries to recall a memory from his life to give him a clue as to who he is. He feels that his mind is clean and empty of identity. To his own amusement, he can think of nothing more than his first name. With a chuckle he introduces himself to the empty room. For many more minutes, thinking about his past life becomes a game. What valuable life skills must he have learned? His hands feel rough, they harbor many scars, but there's something strong and sure about them. Could he be a laborer? Perhaps he is a construction worker that had an accident on the job. As for pain, he really can't find too much to complain about. He can't find any bandages on his body or recent surgical markings. The only real pain he feels is coming from his back when he tries to sit up. Further investigation of his own body was needed. Taking a look at his legs reveals to him good lean muscle tone and no visible rashes or scars. He remarks to the room that he must have either been doing a lot of standing or a lot of running. The last thing Tom examines about himself is his hair. He slowly reaches up and places both hands on his head. His hair is big and curly, creating quite a lot of cushion between his scalp and the rest of the world. Tom lies back down, calm, quiet, in defeat.
A little while later, Tom's doctor enters the room. The doctor approaches the foot of Tom's bed holding a clipboard in his crossed arms, then Tom hears the doctor letting out a sigh of confusion. Tom lifts his head and looks at the doctor with his wide eyes. The doctor asks Tom a few questions. Mostly they ask Tom about his memory and current personal wellness assessment. Of course, even now, the only thing Tom knows for sure is his name. All other questions are given about the same line. "I don't know." Despite the lack of self that Tom is in possession of, he keeps a smile and expresses his joy in the situation. The emptiness is calming and amusing to Tom. The doctor does not share in his delight and explains that the hospital has no idea where Tom came from. What the hospital does have on record is their own account of Tom's death, and rescue shortly after, as well as scans of Tom's brain that showed two suspect masses.
"I don't suppose those could be the left and right sides of my brain?" Tom wasn't smiling anymore. As the doctor explains the trouble in finding his next of kin, Tom realizes what's happened to him. He's not entirely sure when it happened but he did die. Whatever is growing in his head has caused amnesia and killed him. Without his memory or any way of finding out who he is, his family will not know where their Thomas has gone, if he even has family. He knows nothing about himself and has no way of filling in the blanks. He may very well die again while torn between the possible realities of being forgotten or mourned. But Who Knows?
Story by: James D. Gray
1/30/18
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