More words

Editor's note:  I know I said this would be up "tomorrow," but I meant tomorrow in blog language.  Also, we're headed to Duke soon to meet with my team, so we'll see what they have to say about all of this stuff below.

More thoughts on word usage: since I’ve clearly turned a corner and entered a new kind of energetic lifestyle that is, in fact, my old style—frenetic, happy, driven, and full of ideas—I’m discovering some of the language changes that have taken place that weren’t as visible before. Eliza and Biffle are right that I haven’t changed much, but I have changed. Perhaps these changes are just transitory parts of the recovery process, or perhaps they’re new elements of my language functioning. Regardless, they’re here—at least for now—and they’re minor. If they are permanent, who cares? I’m doing great. But I want to acknowledge them.

For instance, the other day I couldn’t come up with the word “hyperbole.” Biffle did as the speech language pathologist advised and tried to give me some hints, but they didn’t work. Even with the clue that the word starts with “hyper,” I couldn’t come up with it. He finally said “hyperbole,” and then I was all over it, talking about my concept being hyperbolic, but before that I could just say, “You know, exaggerated, intentionally over the top—it’s a literary term.” It is, of course, incredibly valuable to have been able to say what I said to describe the idea, and in a class or conversation I can easily steer around forgetting the word hyperbole so that it’s invisible to the person(s) I’m talking with. But still.

Another example:  These days I sometimes forget lyrics to songs I’ve sung many times to Maybelle. I remember lyrics weirdly easily, and the ones I’ve been forgetting have generally been in complicated songs like They Might Be Giants’ “James K. Polk.”  This is not a life-challenging situation, but it’s definitely different—I don’t remember this happening before in my life.

This morning I’d been on the computer a bit, and I said to Maybelle, as I was fixing her oatmeal, “Are you ready for your email?” These sorts of word slippages are common for everyone in the world, but they’re happening a little more often around here. Again, not a big deal, but one that I might have to acknowledge in public settings and figure out how to work around. Biffle suggested coming up with some sort of humorous way of acknowledging the brain tumor, but I’m leaning more toward matter of fact. One because humor isn’t my strong point, and two because my brain tumor is like Maybelle’s Down syndrome is like Biffle’s and my need to wear glasses: it’s just part of who I am these days, and it doesn’t need to be apologized for or justified. (Although I will say I’m not at all dismissing the humor possibility, because Biffle and I are both aware of the need for humor in educating folks about Down syndrome, thus our “My kid has more chromosomes than yours” bumper stickers.)