When my oldest son, Jonathan, was about 13 years old, he fell off a skateboard and hit his head.  When he came in the house and told me what had happened, I cleaned up his scrapes and wondered if his nose was broken.  There were no places that needed to be stitched and he didn’t seem to be in too much pain, so after a little mother’s TLC, I went back to reading my book.  After about five minutes, he told me he could barely remember falling.  I told him that was normal after an accident.  About five or ten minutes later, he came to me and asked what happened to him.  “Well you told me you fell off your skateboard but I didn’t see you fall.”  Five minutes later, here he comes again.  “Mom, what happened to me?”  “Jonathan, you said you fell off your skateboard, remember?”  Five minutes later, repeat.  “What did I JUST tell you??!!!” I said in exasperation!  He gave me a blank look.  Then I noticed he looked, what my mom calls, peak’d.  A little pale, glassy eyed…you know.  After a call to his doctor, we took him to the ER and he was admitted with a severe concussion, a broken nose, and amnesia.  He had a weird type of amnesia.  He would ask the same question over and over and….  He couldn’t remember from one moment to the next.  It was funny sometimes….he squeezed my hand in pain until the blood drained out of it while the nurse missed his veins trying to get an IV in, then five minutes later, looked down and said nonchalantly, “Hm.  I’ve got an IV….glad they put it in while I was asleep!”  But, after we knew he would be OK, it was mostly exasperating.  My goodness!  The same questions over and over and over…..