Life In The Slow Lane...
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San Diego, CA, United States
This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010


People freak out when they find out that I can't taste. After they lift their jaw off the ground, they ask me ridiculous questions about my appetite and how I manage. I respond by telling them I have no choice. I remind them that I need to eat in order to survive.

Some people have asked if I miss it. Sure, I do but again there aren't any solutions and I don't remember different flavors, maybe that's because of the coma, the brain injury, I don't know.

Today, as I heated up some fake chicken strips, the directions suggested adding some sauce for better results. After reading it, I found myself scouring the fridge and the pantry searching for the right flavor combination. I found some cajun sauce that Aimee found at our nearby farmer's market. 'This should work,' I thought. The next thought that came to my head; 'why do I care? I can't taste."

I realized that the answer to everyone's questions about not having taste; I don't remember that I don't taste, not until that first bite, or when someone tells says how good something tastes and then it's time for one of my classic "no taste" joke, which keep getting funnier and funnier each time.

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