What Uber Did To Me, from a testing POV

and how it connected me to my dad

I had an odd experience at rehab yesterday. Odd, eerie and profound. And worth sharing, I think.

There was an exercise the therapist had me work on. She held a series of coaster-sized and coaster-shaped cards. Each has pictures of objects on them, in different colors and in different sizes. Pictures of all kinds of things - animals, musical instruments, things in nature - the whole gamut.

Rehab therapist takes one and puts it on a whiteboard, two feet away. I have a coaster in my hand, and I’m trying to see what it has in common with the one on the whiteboard.

I couldn’t find any.

She gave me other cards to try and said there’s always at least one object in common.

I found one.

But that was it. I tried a few more. And a few more.

I couldn’t find any more objects in common, and the harder I tried the harder it got.

Yes it was frustrating. But it had another effect - connecting me to my Dad. When he was starting to fail, early in the Alzheimer’s progression he’d take tests for memory and cognition (man woman person camera sort of thing.) And he struggled, and it frustrated him, and he felt angry and stupid. (My mom reminded me that he actually used to ask for the tests. He knew something was wrong and wanted the data. He didn’t want the data to be what it turned out to be, but that’s how it goes with data.)

That’s exactly how I felt, and I could also feel his frustration and agner.

It was like I was experiencing his experience during my experience. I could feel what he felt.

The connection felt real and strong as were the emotions it stirred. It wasn’t pleasant. It also wasn’t unpleasant. It was strange, and it seems to be staying with me.

That feeling that we can’t do what everyone else can, that what other people seem able to do without issue is out of reach, that we’re less than they are. That we’re diminished.

That’s how it felt.

And that’s how I feel - diminished from the TBI, capable of less than I was before, frustrated with where I am, angry at Uber for causing this. The silver lining is tiny and difficult to see but it’s the connection to my dad, though it connects us at points in our lives when we are less than we were before.

Fuck you Uber.