My Experience with Recovering from 100% Memory Loss

Looking back to how it has changed me

I put on my uniform, trying to remember how it’s worn. I gained the courage to walk outside. With my military cap in hand, I looked around the base at the other buildings and the rock streets and remember thinking, “Oh, no. I don’t remember anything”.

So there I was, a young Army Military Policeman just working to make a name for myself in the industry. A good name. While in Korea, I trained over the weekend nights, rucking or running until my iPod died (my iPod lasted 5 hours — that is 5 hours of running with like five 2-minute breaks). I studied the Ranger Handbook daily. I made connections to mentor me. I tried giving my 2-cents during shift to a Military Police Investigator (MPI) — I was called to the police station and the Desk Sergeant said “Hey highspeed, come here. I hear you talked back to MPI…” “No, sergeant. I thought we were brainstorming during that time before making a decision about a case” “No. MPI gave an order, he did not ask for your 1-year experience. Go back to work”.

Although, my demeanor changed when I got to Fort Polk, LA — the leadership killed my motivation, while screaming to get us motivated — I still wanted a good reputation, though. Telling me to get motivated, unmotivates me — meaning, I was motivated, but others were not.

That’s how it started out, anyway.

Situation

About 2 weeks after a suicide bombing in Afghanistan in 2012, I packed to head back to the US. I went back early due to my military contract coming to a close. So, I woke up in a tent one morning after I was dropped off at FOB (forward operating base) Walton with no memory. To date, I have no memory of why I had no memory. The Department of Veteran Affairs believes they have located the reason and what was discussed will remain undisclosed at this time.

That morning I awoke to not remembering my name, my family, where I was, my schedule for the day, or anything else. When I sat at the edge of the bed, I remember looking around for a minute, thinking I was just tired and something will pop in my head with some time. After a minute, still nothing came to mind. I looked at my body armor leaning against my backpack on the ground and seeing my last name. I read the name, “Lyon”. I remembering thinking nothing after that.

I began to get scared and almost panicked. I did not panic, I controlled myself in order to figure it out. I repeated my last name 3x and then I remembered my first name. The first complete thing I remembered was my name. I remembered thinking “what’s next?”. I rummaged through my belongings to look for my ID and other things to help remember anything. To date, I don’t remember 90% of that first day.

I remember getting a headache just thinking about anything, knowing I should know something. I remember, a medic sergeant came into the tent to go to his bed at the end of the tent and remember pretending to be busy because I did not remember his name or rank — only remembered his face. I was too scared to let him know my situation — because I did not know my situation and wanted to stay in the lead in this recovery.

I put on my uniform, trying to remember how it was worn. I gained the courage to walk outside. I walked outside with my military cap in hand and looked around the base at the other buildings and the rock streets and remember thinking, “Oh, no. I don’t remember anything”.

The Last 10 Years

I remember… people walking on by without a care in the world

When I was waiting at Kandahar Airport for 2 weeks to fly back to the US, I decided to contact the chaplain to contact my unit. I walked into the chaplain’s tent, told him the story of how I’m flying back and that I’ve been waiting for 2 weeks. The chaplain asked why I could not contact them, so I told him the story of what happened about my memory. He seemed more interested than caring, but asked who my unit was. I could not tell him, I forgot to bring any paper with me. He asked who my commander was. I could not tell him, we recently changed commands (not that I would have remembered the name anyways). So after he named off some MP units, I heard “209th MP Company” and I said, “that’s it!”. He asked again if I was sure I wanted him to contact them…

Two days later, 2 sergeants found me and were not happy campers. I remembered their faces, but not their ranks or names— but knew they were sergeants. They were quite verbally aggressive, because I had jumped the chain of command and went to a Lieutenant Colonel who emailed the captain of the 209th MP Company. I sat there and took the BS for a few minutes. I remembered pondering if I wanted to not tell them because of their attitudes. But, I decided to tell them. Suddenly, their demeanor changed. Although they were nicer, they still were not helpful, mentally. They just held my hand to the airport.

I remember arriving at the Alexander Airport in Louisiana, hoping someone knew I was there. I think the sergeants mentioned something, but shoot, my brain was too jacked up to remember anything they said. That sergeant at the airport was pretty straight forward, but not a drill sergeant. But, not graceful. He fixed all my uniform violations (I had a bracelet on, sleeves “cupped”, and some other things). I did not tell him what I was going through. I was tired of thinking about it.

I remember the next 70 days as I cleared the Army I was a mess. I had to keep a notepad in my pocket, telling me what time to be where, the address to go, and what to ask. I remember having to write down “grocery store”, “lunch”, “text parents at lunch about ______”, “it is a 10-walk from lunch to the next appointment. Leave at 12:35”, and “laundry” on my calendar or I would forget. I could stare at the laundry at the end of the day and not know to do them.

I remember spilling a drink and looking around my apartment for what to use to clean it up. I grabbed my shirt, then grabbed a piece of paper, grabbed a washcloth, then looked at the paper towels. I analyzed what was easier to use, between the paper towels and the washcloth. Then I got a headache.

I remember losing my notes for one day and missed everything I was supposed to do. I remember the offices I missed, when I connected with them again, they reminded me that it was Army Regulation to call 24 hours ahead of time to reschedule. I wanted to respond (because each day I was getting more agitated with myself than the previous day), “What if I lost my calendar and with memory problems forgot you even existed until you called me? Even after you called me I did not know why you called me. I don’t remember what offices I went to yesterday. What exactly do you want from me and I’ll write it on my fridge?”

I remember writing two calendars for each day and keeping both in separate pockets, just in case I lose one. I remember some days my calendars were not the same, sending my brain into a spiral.

I remember telling the Army Psychologist who cleared me of the Army about my trouble and all she did was write a referral to the Department of Veteran Affairs. I thought to myself, “1) What mystical creature is Veteran Affairs and why would I see them? And 2) Why is she so f****** cranky and acting like she did not hear a word I said?”

I remember friends and family either not believing me or not caring. Because, why would someone who cares not bother to ask what they could do, when their friend or family cannot think of asking for help? You see, to speak is to think. If someone’s thinking is deteriorated, what grammar expectations do you have? “Well, they did not ask for help”… We won’t. People who have psychological issues 24/7 just want some peace. I know asking for help from someone who wants to be asked, means answering stupid questions, because the person we want to ask needs their own therapist and cannot just follow simple instructions.

Since we don’t meet your expectations, we’ll make it easy for you, we won’t ask.

Example:

Person with memory problems: “I need help”

Them: “Glad you asked. What do you need help with?”

Person with memory problems: “… um… groceries would be nice”

Them: Instead of asking, “What seems to be the reason? I know you said you have some trouble with memory, could it be that you are overwhelmed just following what to buy for a grilled cheese sandwich? — you know, memory loss. Just tell me what you need” they ask, “Why? What happened to your car?”

People who are still struggling with adapting to life due to an injury or ailment are often neglected and would just like to feel connected. But, don’t know how to go about it and we say the wrong things. So for someone to actually take time and not look at the clock, that is the only true friend and family they have and will acknowledge.

We might take 20 minutes looking at a lunch menu. We might have to Google what celery is. I remember going to a restaurant and forgetting everything but bacon. I read over the menu and just hated myself. Instant headache and stress came over me, praying for a caring waitress. The waitress asked, “what can I get for you” and all I could do was look down in sorrow and say “I’m not sure, let’s try #1”. When the waitress walks away, tears just began to flow.

We wonder if there will ever be someone who will help — evidently our need is too great for God’s love. Christians still have conditions to love. In their heart “It takes too much effort to learn how to communicate to those with psychological limitations. Not my job, not my calling, not my interest, not what I would learn to do; my calling is working 9–5, going home to the family, and planning the next $10,000 vacation”.

That’s why we don’t ask for help. We don’t want to impede in your life. If someone does not want to help, we do not want to make them feel obligated in any way. The only way for us to know if someone cares is to wait for someone with some wherewithal. That way, we know we are safe to ask “can you help me?”

“Whatever this is it tastes good”

“It’s a strawberry” *rolls eyes

“Oh, wow, you want a cookie? Polly want a cracker?”

I still need a micromanaging calendar to this day. My brain still pauses often. I still can’t remember everything I did before 2012. I still forget at least 2 work-related things per day.

I’ve lived this. I probably have more assessment and discernment gifts than you because of the experience. That’s just life. I swim in the intersection of the mind, body, and spirit — psychoneurobiology — without getting paid. Imagine if I was paid…

That is part of the reason why Restore the Family: Military Transitions (RTFMT) exists. RTFMT is unlike any other military nonprofit to exist. The way RTFMT approaches and works with the military community is beyond diligence. RTFMT truly works themselves out of a job (which is also what a captain in Special Forces said about Special Forces) — well, RTFMT works themselves out of volunteer work (they are not funded yet — I guess people need a sales pitch to see value).

Special Forces does not ask you to help. RTFMT does not ask for help. Someone with a cognitive impediment is not either. Get over it. Get some discernment and prophetic gift. If you cannot assess a situation, that means, according to RTFMT and Special Forces, you probably can’t handle it. Just stay home.

It is the principle of Ownership. Without it, we are useless.

Footnote

With good feedback from this story I can detail more information about my contact with my unit and other people more in-depth. It’s just a longer story.