Page 36 of Sparking Sara

“Because she’s able to respond to commands,” she tells me.

Dr. Miller tries to explain. “We’ve asked Sara a series of yes and no questions. Easy ones like‘Is my lab coat purple?’or‘Is the wall yellow?’We instructed her to give us a thumbs up for yes and a thumbs down for no. Or a nod of her head vs a shake. And she’s able to follow those simple instructions.”

“So how can you tell she has memory loss?” I ask the doctor.

“Remember how I said the MRI showed damage to parts of the brain? Some of that damage was to the hippocampus—the area of the brain dealing with memory. Damage to this area of the brain is likely to cause some type of memory destruction, be it the inability to make new memories, or the inability to recall old ones.”

“But won’t she remember things over time?” I ask.

“If her trauma were psychological, perhaps. But being that it’s physical, it’s unlikely. In these cases, anything that does ‘come back’ is merely a confabulation.”

“Confabulation?” I ask. “You’ve lost me.”

“A memory error,” he says. “A fabrication of a memory based on what other people have said.”

“So what doesn’t she remember?”

“A lot,” Joelle says sadly.

“We think she may have lost several years of her memory,” Dr. Miller says.

“How could you possibly know that if Sara can’t speak?”

“I asked her a series of questions about her life,” Joelle says.

“Like what?”

“I asked about Oliver.”

“She doesn’t remember him?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Not even after I told her how they met. I told her as much about him as I knew. I told her we’ve contacted him, and I was sure he’s worried about her and trying his best to get here.”

“How long did you say they’d been dating?”

“More than a year.”

“What else did you ask her?”

“I asked if she knew Anna, the driver of the car. She doesn’t.”

I sigh. “That may be the silver lining here.”

“I suppose.”

“Does she remember her parents’ deaths?” I ask.

“Thankfully, yes. I’d hate to have to break that to her and have her relive it all over again. And she remembers Lydia. I think she remembers her fondly, so we can assume she’s not aware of their falling out a few years back.”

“She lost somewhere between two and four years?” I ask.

“Three as far as I can tell,” she says. “I showed her some pictures of her paintings I found on-line. She only remembers the ones she did before she started selling them.”

“Maybe if you show her pictures of Oliver and Anna,” I ask.

“I don’t have any. I guess we could try to find some. Do you think that would help spark her memory, Dr. Miller?”

He shakes his head. “It’s unlikely, but not impossible. As I’ve said a dozen times, brain injuries are all different. Sometimes what you think will happen, doesn’t. However, I wouldn’t go getting your hopes up—or hers, because I wouldn’t bet on it.”

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