Deb Brandon: Living in Radiant Color

Who Was I?

Mum said I behaved like a sixteen year old. Sarah accused me of not being the loving mother that I used to be. Bill implied that my judgment was impaired and I was paranoid.

That’s not how I remember it.

What was I like during that first year post-surgery?
Was I like a teenager, acting irresponsibly, willful, deaf to advice? I now remember taking unnecessary risks driving, making illegal U-turns under dangerous circumstances, speeding recklessly.
Was I very irritable? Did I snap all too easily and scream at Sarah too much? I remember being angry at Bill, my husband at the time, feeling he was not supportive, his behavior detrimental to my recovery. But now I wonder. Was my resentment and anger triggered too easily? Was there an element of paranoia in my mind?
I remember sitting at my computer, working, for no more than ten minutes, then finding out it had been more than an hour. I used to sit silent among people, incapable of following the conversation, unable to engage. How often was I detached, removed from my surroundings?
I look back and I wonder at myself back then. I know that my memory is faulty. I distinctly remember walking over to the hospital on the morning of my first surgery, but both Mum and Jonathan said we took a taxi. What else do I not remember? What is it that I am remembering?
Sometimes, that nightmare of a year seems surreal, as if my life was that of a stranger.
Who was I?