Up at 0600. Day is cool with a soft rain falling.

First shock on waking is the awareness that it is over. The insurance case is finished. I had delivery problems. The bad guys won.

My thoughts were of a world collapsed. My insurance case has been the anchor around which so much has come to revolve. It has forced me to investigate the circumstance of my own injury, to develop an understanding of brain trauma and brain function, learn about diagnostic treatments, protocols, and methods of rehabilitation. Because I was forced into fighting the insurance case, I escaped a life of drool and crayons. The insurance case, and all its associated activity, became my primary mode of rehabilitation.

While thinking of a world collapsed, I had memory of a prior post with that title. When I review that post, I see a description of a life with the rug pulled out from underneath it. I see a man situated within a cognitive bubble of belief which at one instant is true, and in the next instant is false. It is difficult to exit a collapsing bubble of belief. It is also extremely difficult to erect a new bubble of belief. But that is what recovery from brain injury demands.

Another thought came to me while coming awake in the dark. This was a memory of the opposing lawyer in the hearing room. The presiding judge repeated my address. The opposing counsel then said something to her by way of correction. This exchange was in French so it was not fully grasped by me. But it clearly had something to do with my mailing address.

As I began to prepare the first morning coffee, this interchange between avocat and presiding judge came again into mind. Why did he interject? What did he seek to correct? Why did he correct the judge (all I really know of the law is that you never, ever attempt to correct the judge. You must be supremely deferential to the position of the judge at all times). Yet he sought to correct her on some element of my address. This exchange was in French so I had difficulty in following it.

While the water works itself into a boil, I dig out my files from yesterday. I look at the Canada Post detail submission. This shows that the insurer sent its January 30th 2015 courier mail to the address 14 -3, IMP DES LILAS. I have no awareness of this mail having reached me.

When I look at other mail sent to me by the insurer, I see it carries the address 3 IMP DES LILAS APP 14. I have other mail which carries the same address.

What is most embarrassing is that I had with me during the proceedings an item of mail from the insurer that did reach me. It carried the APT 14 address. Were I a smart lawyer, I would have immediately introduced this mail evidence on the spot. But I am not a smart lawyer. I am a citizen with a delivery problem, one who found himself cradling his head in his lap, totally disbelieving of what had just happened.