During one of my nights of volunteer activity, a fellow volunteer leaned over and told me I was doing an excellent job. We began a discussion of events in the software industry. I cannot now remember the precise sequence of events but I ended up being invited to visit his offices and participate in the work of his firm.

I viewed this as a huge opportunity. Dr D had warned me that because I have high native intelligence, I would likely become quickly bored with restocking shelves. I understood what she meant but, from my perspective, I would be glad to have any kind of work at all, no matter how boring or menial. It was to improve my chances of finding low skill work, and ensuring I had the required physical stamina to perform it, that had led me to start my punishing exercise routine marching up and down the hills of the Gatineau.

Now I was being offered an opportunity to re-enter the tech world, the IT sector I had worked in for the 12 years immediately prior to the accident (I studied programming at Simon Fraser University in the late 1970s, programmed an HRIS while working in the offshore oil industry, managed a digital document production group for Lavalin in the late 1980s, and engaged in commercial software development in the early 1990s, but had never thought of myself as an IT person until I went to work for Gargantua Computing in 1999).

I immediately encountered problems. For reasons I am unable to explain, I experienced tremendous difficulty summoning any of my prior technical skills and knowledge. When W showed me his office and the variety of technologies that he deployed, I was lost and totally overwhelmed. At the same time, I was much too embarrassed to say anything, and fearful that if I did confess to my difficulties that I might let the opportunity that been placed before me slip from my grasp. So I said as little as possible, and sort of stumbled through the day, working hard to appear intelligent by making nonsense small talk such as “That is a very practical keyboard.” The word “amazing” received a serious workout. It was frequently punctuated by a hushed “incredible,” or several dollops of “unbelievable!!” What was truly unbelievable was that I somehow survived that day, and the next. How this was accomplished, I have no idea. The entire day was a blur. I felt completely, totally, absolutely overloaded, like one of those Newfoundland codfish that spends its life hanging on to the edge of the Grand Banks by its fingernails.

While I had great difficulty in the recall and application of recent knowledge, I had an excellent grasp of knowledge last utilized decades previously. Why this is, I have no idea. All I do know is that I had an effortless ability to call up past knowledge from my prior experience as a business development consultant. The recall of old practices, principles, and concepts, was completely natural and fluent. I didn’t even have to think. I just automatically knew how to apply a body of knowledge I had not exercised in more than 30 years.

So there I was. An IT guy who panicked at the merest hint of contemporary technology while at the same time effortlessly applying forgotten business arcana from more than a quarter century ago.

You explain it. I cannot.

I do know the opportunity was a tremendous, welcome gift.