Spring is here, the grass is ris… I wonder where loyd Grossman is?

So, the 6 month ‘plateau’ has come and gone and progress continues.

Last week I downloaded the same ‘Tactus Therapy app used by Amanda’s speech therapist. This means she can practice her spelling and word recognition at any time. She spent an hour today browsing through her recipe books.

It’s not novel reading just yet, but its a start.

On the way to the Nelson Art Expo today I asked her to tell me each time we passed a red car and a blue car. She got them correct each time. Once we arrived at the art expo she was a little less discerning with her responses. As we walked past each artists’ display, a quick glance at their handiwork genetated the same swift critique; “nah, no, nope” 3 yesses out of around 1500 pieces of art. She knows what she likes art-wise.

But she did see several people she knew and remembered their names.

I took the photo below in the lobby of the art expo. The reason it’s important is the distance she is standing from any other object.  There is nothing within grabbing, leaning or reaching distance. Her balance and spatial awareness have arrived at the point where she obviously now feels comfortable ‘in space’. Another easily overlooked landmark.

 

Amanda’s long – term memory is coming back in large chunks now. As she so eloquently put it;

“I didn’t lose my mind. I just forgot where it was.”

We woke this morning to bright sunshine and singing birds. While Spring doesn’t ‘officially’ start in New Zealand until September 1, today was quite spring -like.

“Spring is sprung the grass is ris, I wonder where the birdies is”

She recited as she got herself dressed.

Yesterday Amanda did something (can’t remember exactly what), and when I asked she said she had ‘ruminated and cogitated’ about it. It was a weirdly familiar phrase.

“Where did that come from?” I asked, vaguely remembering it was used in some kind of game show as the judges decided who the winner was.

“Masterchef” She immediately said.

Now, we’ve spent an hour, five nights a week, for the past three months, watching Australian Masterchef and I was pretty sure  Matt, George and Gary neither ruminated nor cogitated during the entire time.

But it still nagged at me, so I took a long shot and googled the phrase.

…and she was right.

The first version of Masterchef in the UK was presented by Loyd Grosman. It was his phrase. Masterchef 1990.

She remembered.

A stroke doesn’t always destroy memories. But it can push them overboard, try and drown them until they wash up on a deserted beach where they somehow survive while they dry out and are finally rescued by a passing neuron, on its way to discover a new, unchartered bit of brain, where the memory can be landed and remembered once again.