The (Written) Word
After the discovery of two tumours in the left hemisphere of my brain — frontal lobe: 0.7 cm and temporal lobe: 1.3 cm — and a sprinkling (6) of teeny weeny ones on the right this past week, I've been contemplating dysphasia.
Defect in the expression and comprehension of words, caused by damage to the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. It can result from head trauma, tumour, stroke, or infection. Symptoms vary with the brain area involved, and the ability to put words in a meaningful order may be lost. Speech therapy may be useful. In some cases, improvement may be due to assumption of some language functions by other areas of the brain.
Despite my brother 'consoling' me that dysphasia would be the least of my concerns should these tumours be allowed to develop, stroke and paralysis being undoubtedly the more devastating scenarios, I just cannot help wondering how can life be, how can it possibly exist, if the ability to communicate, to express myself were stripped from me. What are the readers of this blog going to do? What a waste of my voice? How will I convey sarcasm?
I sought the opinion of the most articulate person I know, Chris, a good friend in New York, one of my favourite writers ever, and a fellow lover of language, irony and absurdity.
The written word is a powerful outlet for me indeed. It has certainly served its purpose of keeping me sane in the last few months. If I may borrow and share some inspiring ones from friends and readers of this blog, comments, quotations and words from which I have particularly drawn strength:
'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.' - Dylan Thomas
'Today the present.
This very day right here and now.
Today is yesterday returned.
The day before tomorrow.
Nowadays.
This day a day that is here.
Between the past and the future.
The rising and the setting of the sun.' - Fiona Banner, Today, Portrait of a Word
Fall in love with someone who deserves your heart, and not someone who plays with it.
Buddha's widchualldeway!
You have got to do well and keep writing and broadcast this stuff to people around the net.
I'm hoping to develop a super power from undergoing CyberKnife. If not turning invisible, or transforming energy fields by manipulating excessive radiation, then maybe a bit of supertronic linguistica would be handy, enhance the spoken word, while we're at it. Russian could be hot while I'm zapping traffic lights. Would life stop being ironic with super powers?
What super powers would you want?
PS. fuck those fuckers.
Defect in the expression and comprehension of words, caused by damage to the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. It can result from head trauma, tumour, stroke, or infection. Symptoms vary with the brain area involved, and the ability to put words in a meaningful order may be lost. Speech therapy may be useful. In some cases, improvement may be due to assumption of some language functions by other areas of the brain.
Despite my brother 'consoling' me that dysphasia would be the least of my concerns should these tumours be allowed to develop, stroke and paralysis being undoubtedly the more devastating scenarios, I just cannot help wondering how can life be, how can it possibly exist, if the ability to communicate, to express myself were stripped from me. What are the readers of this blog going to do? What a waste of my voice? How will I convey sarcasm?
I sought the opinion of the most articulate person I know, Chris, a good friend in New York, one of my favourite writers ever, and a fellow lover of language, irony and absurdity.
| Me: | Have you ever thought what you would do if you weren't able to write? As in cerebrally? |
| Chris: | Does that mean you're having trouble? Like cerebrally? |
| Me: | I have about 8 tumours in my brain, Chris. |
| Chris: | Oh... Rae, it's hard to imagine: you're one of the most articulate people I've met. |
| Me: | This is the procedure I'm starting tomorrow. |
| Chris: | 'CyberKnife'?? |
| Me: | Yeah, B-grade thriller fiction name, I concur. |
| Chris: | And it looks like Wall-E. You're being saved by Wall-E. |
| Me: | Wall-E has no language/speech cognisance. |
The written word is a powerful outlet for me indeed. It has certainly served its purpose of keeping me sane in the last few months. If I may borrow and share some inspiring ones from friends and readers of this blog, comments, quotations and words from which I have particularly drawn strength:
'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.' - Dylan Thomas
'Today the present.
This very day right here and now.
Today is yesterday returned.
The day before tomorrow.
Nowadays.
This day a day that is here.
Between the past and the future.
The rising and the setting of the sun.' - Fiona Banner, Today, Portrait of a Word
Fall in love with someone who deserves your heart, and not someone who plays with it.
Buddha's widchualldeway!
You have got to do well and keep writing and broadcast this stuff to people around the net.
I'm hoping to develop a super power from undergoing CyberKnife. If not turning invisible, or transforming energy fields by manipulating excessive radiation, then maybe a bit of supertronic linguistica would be handy, enhance the spoken word, while we're at it. Russian could be hot while I'm zapping traffic lights. Would life stop being ironic with super powers?
What super powers would you want?
PS. fuck those fuckers.