Blind Sight, Alison Winterburn

BLIND SIGHT

ALSION WINTERBURN

Blind sight is how I refer to my loss of visual memory; our current lockdown situation has taken me back to how strange life was for me eight years ago. My “lockdown” was then the result of brain damage caused by viral encephalitis.

On returning from hospital to my family home, in an area where I had lived for almost forty years, I had no idea where I was. Imagine what that was like for my husband, carrying out a very strange Estate Agent’s task, having to show me around our family home.

An amusing anecdote relating to that event was him having to witness a previously unseen sight; I blushed! Together with a shy, bowed head was my response to the vision of a shared bedroom – it seems I was back to being a teenager; so that couldn’t happen!

Relearning where I lived; what century we’re in and who the “oldish” lady in the mirror was took me; and in some cases, is still taking me; years. I made the decision one morning to go and buy a paper: after planning the route to our local corner shop I managed to get there. It was such a strange journey; people kept saying hello to me; asking how I was and knowing my name. I kept looking over my shoulder to see who they were addressing; eventually I understood it was me. Arriving at the corner shop they had the paper I wanted; but were charging well over a quid; an unbelievable price back in the 1970s!

The only vaguely positive

consequence for me was that I knew what was missing. So, I constructed plans of relearning; how do you get your visual memory back? An unusual request I know; for me photography was the key to recovery; of both the present and the past.

Sorting through the amazing amount of family photographs; creating albums; repeatedly going over my forgotten life; wasn’t easy. Being a constant reminder of what was missing; but I persevered hoping to relearn my life.

I found that being outdoors; taking regular walks; photographing my journeys became a crucial part of recovery. As Whitney Huston’s perfectly supportive song reflects, I really did have to take it step by step. Starting with small circular walks always turning left – after a while changing the circle to right turns – I would get lost again.

Consistently taking my camera with me, standing; or sometimes kneeling; to get a good angle allowed time to take in the view. Eventually, several years later, I managed to regain my visual memory. Here are some of my attempts starting at home and gradually taking longer journeys on reflection.

On returning from hospital to my family home, in an area where I had lived for almost forty years, “ I had no idea where I was.

You can read more about Alison’s story at headway.org.uk https://bit.ly/34jHc7T