Amnesia
Love by Graham Reid
West Yorkshire Playhouse, 1995
Neurologist Oliver Sacks in his famous book recalls the case of a man who mistook his wife for a hat. On leaving the consulting room he seized his spouse and attempted to place her on his head. Her expression indicated that she was accustomed to such behaviour. His problem was, he could see but he could no longer imagine – his visual memory was impaired to such an extent that he could not, for example, conceive what a glove was for, even though he was capable of describing one perfectly.
Another man in hospital suffering from a complex form of amnesia found a severed leg in his bed. Thinking this was some kind of grisly joke, he tossed it out – and ended up on the floor, because it was his own leg. “It seems stuck to me,” he complained, apparently revolted by the notion. When he was asked, “Where is your own leg?” he replied, “I have no idea.”
One patient became blind, but he didn’t realise it because he had lost all memory of anything he had ever seen. This meant his new condition left him undistressed, as he had no sense of loss.
In 1976, father of two Michael Hogg underwent routine surgery for a stomach ulcer. The operation went wrong and Michael suffered massive memory loss. Now, every morning when he wakes, he’s back in 1976. He remembers everything in his life up to that point, but from then on his mind is a blank. His young wife took over Michael’s care initially but, with two young children to bring up, after a year she felt she was unable to cope any longer and divorced him. Michael’s parents have looked after him since then. One of the most heart-breaking tasks that falls to his mother is to explain to him afresh every day that his wife and children have left him.
PS
These four short pieces were inserted to illustrate a longer and more general article written by another hand. I can no longer remember the theme, but context would suggest the play was either about memory loss (were we already calling it Alzheimer’s back then?), or selfless marital love, or probably both.
Several astonishing things here, not just that the brain is obviously an extraordinarily complex and delicate instrument, so much so that even while the bulk of its major practical functions can remain intact, other parts can be so catastrophically damaged as to cause such bizarre and aberrant behaviour. But I am also struck by the enormous insight and experience and professionalism of medical people like Doctor Sacks and his staff who must have devoted their lives to learning to diagnose and deal with the effects of such injuries. And speaking of devotion, what of the spouses and families and friends of the victims, who frequently and selflessly step into the breach to shoulder the burden of care for their loved ones for the rest of their lives? Even those of us without religion doubtless pray we never end up on either side of such an infinitely cruel equation.