Conflicted or Brain Fog by Lu Sobredo

CONFLICTED OR BRAIN FOG?

by Lu Sobredo

It had to happen in February

In the shortest month of the year

When the weather does its best imitation

Of indecisive magician.

It’s winter coat weather at night

And early morn

Yet the afternoon sun beats on the skin

With a vengeance for a short spell

To announce spring is coming.

Fickleness surrounds fragility.

And in my head, fog floats in.

But unlike the iconic fog

Over the Golden Gate Bridge,

A photographer’s dream shot,

My brain fog is my personal nightmare.

Not to be mistaken for dementia, thank God

But disturbing, nonetheless,

Making one forget to connect to virtual meetings

Or take daily anti-inflammatory dosage of pills.

Yes, my loyal health conscientious friends,

I eat and drink anti-inflammatory food routinely

To help me as well. Naturally.

Ah, but the numbing pain later in the day,

a potent reminder that natural treatment is not enough.

A reminder of what I had forgotten.

But wait, did I forget?

How would I know with this fog?

Hovering over

And inside my head. Taking the dosage now

Could mean overmedicating.

Cause more harm.

Cause more fog production.

Cause the melancholy to slip deeper

Into the dark abyss with no option

For rescue.

Don’t make important decisions

When conflicted, I’m often reminded.

The indecision can be paralyzing

Literally in my case when joint pain flares,

A warring against every inch of me

Rendering the near-catatonic-me

Caught between health’s winter and spring

Forevermore.

I dread these episodes.

Honestly, I resent them.

I mourn them.

I spill tears unnecessarily over them.

Losing more than my body’s motion.

Losing the person, I once knew,

Even loved. Unwelcome levitation

Ala out-of-body experience.

It might take only hours

But sometimes days for the fog to leave

Causing me to wonder

Did an uninvited growth inside the skull return?

Causing me to regret

What beauty

of time and company and sensations

I may have missed out on in the meantime.

What misunderstandings had occurred?

What options there might have been

For finding meaning,

And finding the path to myself again?

(Photo taken in late 2018 at the hospital emergency room after finding out I had tumor under my skull. This was after my diagnosis of an autoimmune illness, Rheumatoid Arthritis, in 2013. Only my husband could capture these personal moments. Link to essays I wrote of my health journey: https://blog.lutravelsabroad.com/2019/01/world-in-motion-part-i.html)

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