Kevin Mount

Brigid, if you've not seen the following drivel from me before, wd you mind forwarding to the circulation list; something not quite right with the way my home email deals with cc-ing. Fear first on the list has had it three times and the rest not at all. Lucky people!

Kevin Mount

I'm in the wrong building altogether, I'm afraid. A friend of mine, coincidentally, has just started attended a weekly group session for people who, like him, have an acquired brain injury. Run by a clinician who has treated them all separately in the past and now decided to try to do it collectively, experimentally, for research. He (this friend of mine) was telling me about the first session, when they introduced themselves in turn - he a victim of a virus that destroyed part of a front lobe, next to him a scaffolder hit by a falling pole, next to him a businessman beaten senseless by thieves, next to him a woman with a withered arm run over as a child, next to her a man who fell from a roof, next to him - well you can imagine - the telltale spasm in the shoulders, hello, my name's Ken and sorry, would you mind not 'O, the logorrhoea, the longueurs; my friend in his orange tinted glasses, all of them arranged together in a circle of metal framed chairs. My friend used to say: I like writing that doesnât belong to anybody. Itâs an old fashioned idea, I know. Perhaps it has something to do with having spent so much of my life knocking other people's writing about, editing it, making it fit pages and parts of pages, head-itting it, so to speak. All in the past, that sort of thing. Sorry, would you mind notâ

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