i don't remember a substantial part of the only important conversation i had this morning. i remember it starting, i remember asking what i needed to know, i remember being back in my room afterwards, but i don't remember the meat of it all.
though i didn't even realise i'd forgotten it until i asked about it again 6 hours later, and got the reply, "i told you all this already, don't you remember?"
every time i figure i'm over this post-concussive disorder thing, i'm proven wrong. i suspect that most people think i'm being a hypochondriac about it all, like i'm trying to make up some sort of disorder to make excuses or make meself feel special, and i'm starting to think that meself -- the name the doctor's given it certainly sounds fake. except that i'll go for a walk and suddenly get hit with headaches and sparkle-vision and head-spinning and bouts of fatigue.
how the hell are you supposed to know when you're over something if it doesn't have any on-going symptoms to let you know that you're healed, though? i felt fine yesterday, but obviously i shouldn't have done as much yesterday and the day before, if everything came back today.
fuck medical science. i want to be fixed in a flash-healing by jesus' hand. or buddha's. or asclepius'. though i suspect it'll be easier to find someone in town named jesus than the other ones.