Memoriam

When Ash awoke, he was in a white room. Blindingly white. A sign was on the ceiling. He was still too asleep to read it. He sat up on the side of the bed he was in and put his head in his hands. Desperately trying to shake the pall, he stretched his body and got up. He leaned against a corner and looked at the room. It was completely white. White walls, white ceiling, white linoleum floor, white curtains that looked sealed shut somehow, white bed, white bedside table. Once he thought he was awake enough, he laid back on the bed to read the sign that was attached to the ceiling. It said in big black letters THIS IS YOUR ROOM. THIS IS A ROOM IN A HOSPITAL. THIS IS WHERE YOU LIVE NOW.

Ash looked around and found the door, which was also white and thus had a camouflage with the rest of the room. He opened it and went into the hallway. The walls of the hallway were a dimmer, more off-white, but the floor tiles were the same. The hallway was long, stretching out for what seemed like miles in either direction, and the walls were dotted with doors, most likely other patients’ rooms. He managed to get as far as room 619 before 2 people wearing white scrubs found him and escorted him back to his room.

“What’s going on? Why can’t I remember what happened?” Ash demanded of his doctor.

“Well, Mr. Ketchem, you were in a car accident. In said accident you received severe trauma to your hippocampus. This has caused-“ The doctor was explaining but Ash cut him off.

“I don’t know what the hell any of that means. Just tell me what’s happened to me.”

“I’m getting to that, don’t be impatient. The damage to your hippocampus has apparently taken away your anterograde memory as well as some of your retrograde memory.”

“What?”

“You’ve lost short-term memory and some of your long-term memory. These blackouts are caused by your brain trying to perform consolidation. Due to the trauma to your brain, this causes you to blackout, and whatever short-term memories you had are lost. See, since your brain tries to consolidate, but can’t, it doesn’t know what to do, so it temporarily shuts down.”

“So I can’t make memories anymore?”

“Temporarily, I’m afraid so.”

“And what about my old memories?”

“As with most cases of retrograde amnesia it’s possible to get those back.”

“And the short-term memories I loose, can I get those back?”

“No.”

“And this short-term memory loss thing, am I stuck with it for the rest of my life?”

“No, fortunately the damage you’ve sustained is only temporary. It’ll heal. Now get some sleep, it’s late. There’ll be 2 orderlies outside by your door if you need anything.”

“Well, that was the worst movie ever.” Complained Ash as they exited the theater.

“Yeah. I’ll never get those two hours of my life back.” Agreed Misty.

“Hey, don’t let me forget to take the car in tomorrow.”

“I’ve a better idea. Sell the car.”

“No, I like that car, it’s a good car.”

“The radio doesn’t work, the windshield wipers don’t work, the muffler’s bad, the windows stick, it’s a terrible car.”

“It has character.”

“Only if by character you mean it bad radio, windshield wipers, muffler and windows.”

“No, by character I mean character.” Ash said with a sigh of exhaustion as they got into the car and drove home.