January 5, 2012

Word Salad, Or gazing through a diver's mask...

The other night I headed out for dinner with some friends despite my feeling of overwhelming fatigue after the holiday. I was glad I had a sweetie to drive me because for most of the evening I felt as if I was wearing a diver's mask - one of those ones where you can just see out a tiny glass screen, while the rest of your head is surrounded with copper. I couldn't understand my voice level - I was sure I was shouting and kept trying to bring my voice down. I have no memory about our conversation; I barely remember what we ate except that it was delicious and so is stuck in my sensory memory. All the time I spoke I felt like I'd been heavily into the wine - my mouth needed thought to form words and they seemed to come out mushy and drunken.  Muscles for speech were sluggish and sullen.
We staggered home - me tacking heavily to the right and left (again, thank heavens I wasn't driving) and I fell into bed to sleep for 12 hours straight.
It's probably the worst I've been cognitively for some time, and reminded me of how I felt after a couple of days at work. It amazes me I was even able to show up. Small wonder I seemed like an idiot to others, or a grump, or a bitch. Who knew what my voice was doing? Or my mouth? I certainly didn't. I feel like I should apologize to everyone.

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