It probably was no big deal. I mean, I survived it
but by that standard,
Noah’s flood was no big deal
nor was the Holocaust for the survivors
and this was exactly like those,
so what am I talking about?

Here’s the skinny:
I woke up, put on pants,
turned on the computer and got to work.
Only I didn’t remember anything.

I remembered basics, like my name, my location,
my place in the universe.
I didn’t remember how to do my job, though,
which I could do two days before.

I’d had a rough night;
didn’t get much sleep.
Tossed and turned. I was dazed, sure, but now
I was horrified.
The job requires a lot of cutting and pasting,
using key codes, remembering certain details.
Being forgetful was not a boon for getting through the day.

I knew how to type.
I knew how to use applications
like email and longer running programs
but the things I had learned specifically for the job
– more short term memories –
were not coming to me, or at least, not quickly.

I was worried about a stroke.

It was a Sunday, and most of the staff
of my remote job
were out
and I don’t communicate with them much
under normal circumstances.
In my frazzled state
I didn’t think to reach out to anyone
so I just worked alone
in a state of mute confusion.

I didn’t call family or friends
because my head
was not on right.
I don’t know why I didn’t speak to my room-mate
when the word "stroke" started pulsing harshly
in my skull.
Whatever was causing my dysfunction
was not leaving clear thinking in its wake.

An hour into work
after enough false starts
and desperate guesses
as to how to get things done
I found I had to take a break
and I got onto my bed
and I took a nap
and the world swirled.

I began to question
if I had been living in reality
and maybe this lack of understanding
was me peeking behind the matrix
and seeing the real reality.
I lay paralyzed in bed
during the nap.

Fifteen minutes ticked by
and my break ended.
Back to the matrix, I guess.

Work went no better after my rest
and I realized I wasn’t going to make it through the day.
I mean, I’d survive, maybe,
if I didn’t have a stroke,
but maybe I should get that looked at?

So I called out to an email robot
sent my doctor’s email box a message,
asking if I was dying,
and finally called my mother
so I was no longer suffering in silence
and instantly felt better.
It’s not like part of my body ever shut downso the stroke theory was weak from the start.
With anxiety, I put that aside
then fell asleep for a few hoursand when I awoke
I began to remember things again.

When I spoke to doctors
– first my GP
and then a brain guy –
they couldn’t find anything wrong with me
and shrugged it all off.
The best they could come up with
was my working theory:
I was really tired.

Nothing could quite explain the existential crisis
and my dream state where reality faltered
and I questioned where I really sat in the state of things.
But I guess that’s just Sundays for you.