Because cognitive decline showed up for both my parents, I can safely assume my genes are predisposed in that direction.

But heredity is not destiny. I need to take preventative measures.

Besides heredity, concussions are not good for brain health. I’ve had three.

1. In high school, in front of my house, speeding my bicycle down a steep hill, hitting a rock and flying over the handlebars, landing on my back on the asphalt. Deciding that lying down with my eyes closed on that warm bed felt good. Then deciding I’d better open my eyes and get out of the road.
2. Working for Fifth Third Bank, during my frequent trips between Chicago and Cincinnati, while riding in a lurching-fast taxi to the airport. The taxi was rear-ended by a semi hauling a flatbed of heavy construction equipment. I still remember watching the shattered blue glass come from behind and roll by, like an ocean wave, and thinking:

• This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen that I’ll never see again, and
• I’m going to be okay.

3. In 2019, on a Friday, my wake-up call. The grocery store had removed all the advertising posters from their front floor-to-ceiling window and moved the displays out of the way to clean the window. It was a beautiful early autumn day. To enter the store, I walked through the open glass garage door. They had opened it to let in the fresh air.

Leaving the store, I noted the wide expanse of clear space and figured they must have opened another garage door.

Glancing down at my flimsy bag, adjusting my takeout sushi so it didn’t tip, I walked right into the crystal-clear window and fell to the floor. All I saw was black. Behind me, a man’s voice said, “Stay right there.”

At the University of Cincinnati Medical Center, the doctors said I had a concussion and a broken nose, and there was nothing to be done about either. Go home and rest. They also had no solution for the lightning flashes in my right eye. Maybe they would go away in time.

That weekend, as I lay on my back in my bedroom in the dark, I counted flashes to see if they were becoming less frequent.

Six times a minute, a jagged flash lept from the outer corner of my eye and reached toward center. They never faltered.

Because “there’s nothing to be done” doesn’t appeal to me, when I felt like I could look at a computer screen again, I went to Google.

Which is when I found Daniel.

Chewing the Cud of Good

Thankful for a friend coming in from out of town.