The Memory Book Read Online Free PDF Page A

that my dear brother would come all the way to Grantham to see me. Maybe he knew something about my condition the nurse hadn’t told me.
    “Damn , it’s good to see you, Sam. You’re a doctor, give me the lowdown on this thing. And don’t spare my feelings.”
    “Sure, Benny, as you like it. You were hit on the back of the head with a blunt instrument about eight weeks ago. You started waking up only just this week. We thought we’d lost you a couple of times, but you held on. Technically, you’ve got a fractured skull. There was some displacement, but it’ll never show now we’ve fixed it, unless you lose all your hair. The people here on this floor are going to help you while you’re still an inpatient, and then, for a while, after you’ve been discharged. They’re going to work on your problem areas and get you the best help available.”
    “What are my problem areas, Sam? I seem to be able to walk and talk. I can still cut my meat and remember who I am.”
    Sam, my dear older brother, was looking down at me over his half-moon glasses. His hair was showing grey around the ears and his suit dealt with his middle-age paunch effectively. There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He looked comfortable and happy. I took courage from that.
    “Look, Benny, you’ve been very lucky. Lots of people up here are much worse off than you.”
    “Damn it, Sam! I’m not trying to win a disability contest.”
    “When they found you, you were in very bad shape. You’d lost a lot of blood from your head wound. Not from the brain itself. But the scalp and tissue around the area made it look as though you’d been shot in the head. You understand? Dr. Collins says that your immediate memory is in a shambles and that you’re going to have some difficulty reading. You can write, but you can’t read what you’ve written.”
    “Sounds like a case for that American doctor, the one who wrote The Man Who Mistook His Wife for His Hat.”
    “Oliver Sacks? This would be right up his alley. But before we sell your story to the movies, let’s get you back on your feet and functioning as well as we can.”
    “Great!” I said through my teeth.
    “Sacks, by the way, is English. I’ll see if I still have his latest book in my office.”
    “It’s a picture book?”
    “Sorry, Benny. I forgot. Maybe it’s available on tape.”
    “Okay, I’ll stop dreaming of TV contracts. How long am I going to be in here?”
    “Don’t be in such a rush to get out. Rod Collins knows what he’s doing. I’ve talked to him. He’s going to send you for tests …”
    “What kind of tests?”
    “Don’t be so suspicious, Benny. They want to map your visual fields, to see what damage has been done. That will help when you apply to get your driver’s licence back.”
    “My licence was in my wallet.”
    “It’s been suspended.”
    “What?”
    “Now don’t bend yourself out of shape about this, Benny. They suspend the licence of anyone who’s had a serious brain injury. You’re not special.”
    “They didn’t take away that actor’s licence! In Los Angeles. I read it in the paper just last month.”
    “Last month? Last month you were still in a coma.”
    “Well. Whenever it was. Before I learned not to read. I saw a piece about What’s-his-name, the movie actor. He got his licence back!”
    “Ontario isn’t California and you aren’t Douglas Kirk. Doug Kirk had a different sort of injury. He had a stroke, for one thing. The effects are similar, I grant you, but not identical. Different strokes hit different folks. That’s why they are not trying a one-size-fits-all approach. It’s notthe Hollywood lobby ganging up on a poor Canadian private eye. Frankly, I think you got the better deal.”
    “Thanks, and while I’m at it, thanks for driving out to see me so often. The nurse told me. I appreciate it, Sam.”
    “Drive? I don’t under—Oh, Benny! You think you’re still in Grantham!”
    “Well?”
    “Benny, you are