A ramble in aphasia

That was a title of an O Henry story. A successful lawyer with a life like clockwork and overwork suffers from an attack of Aphasia - a complete loss of memory, and finds himself in a strange city, with a large wad of money in his pocket. He assumes the name of Edward Pinkhammer and starts a life of unfettered freedom, encountering the exotic life of the city, including an old sweetheart who refuses to believe in his malady. In fact, everyone is a skeptic about aphasia, except him, the victim. As one man says: "I put nine out of ten of 'em down as frauds. A man gets sick of his business and his folks and wants to have a good time. He skips out somewhere, and when they find him he pretends to have lost his memory - don't know his own name, and won't even recognize the strawberry mark on his wife's left shoulder. Aphasia! Tut! Why can't they stay at home and forget?" 

A couple of weeks later, he is discovered by his wife and his doctor. Will they succeed in restoring his memory? Does he want them to? It is a classic, and I suggest you read it if you haven't already (http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/RambApha.shtml).

I was reminded of this story, when a few weeks ago, I had my wisdom teeth removed under full anesthesia. As I lay back in the chair, the doc stuck an IV into my vein and said the worst was over. I remember asking him what was in the IV, but I don't remember the answer. The last thing I was wondering about was whether I should ask the doc if his middle name was Spock, since his first and last names were Kirk and Scott.

After that, the next thing I remember is waking up on the couch in the house, with Poonam talking animatedly about medicine schedules and Raghav interrupting with his voluble 'Nanna? Nanna!'. It is only later that I realized how treacherous my memory was- the powerful anesthetic had  deleted several events of the afternoon from my brain. After that question to the doc, I apparently:

- chatted some more with the doc and slipped under
- after the operation, greeted Poonam in the recovery room
- chatted and joked with her about something
- listened to the doc talking about the medicine schedule
- was wheeled down to the door, talking all the while
- left on my own feet to the car and got in
- got home and lay down on the coach, eyes open
- woke up!

It was indeed a ramble in aphasia. I was wondering if I should start tattooing telephone numbers on my body, until I checked with the doc and found this to be a fairly common reaction to the anesthesia. Whew! Shakespeare had it right: "O true apothecary!Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die." (The last sentence doesn't apply in my case, of course). What potent drugs doctors deal with, indeed.

It is ironic that a few weeks later, it is Poonam and Raghav who have skipped out on a ramble of their own (of-Asia, not Aphasia, if you will), leaving me stranded here. So like the man in the story, I ask: "Tut! Why can't they stay at home and forget?"