How a Brain Injury Ruined My Favorite Fruit

I knew recovery would be long and challenging, but the littlest changes took me by surprise.

Illustrations by Ariel Davis

As my teeth puncture the skin, my senses assault me, wreaking havoc on my nervous system. The flesh scours teeth and gums, scraping them raw. The juice, freed from its confines, erupts, its acidity burning my lips. The clamor of the crunch invades my entire being, striking at every fiber, every cell, flaying them to shreds.  

I jerk the apple away from my mouth and stare at the teeth marks. What just happened? Frowning, I shake my head and lick my lips – and pucker and suck air in with a hiss, cringing at the flavor. The tartness burns, and the sweetness is cloying. 

But this is a Honey Crisp. I love Honey Crisp apples; they’re my absolute favorites. I love them for the crunch, for the sweetness and the tartness. I love the ceremony of choosing the apple, washing it, then drying it, rubbing it with a tea towel until it shines. I always look forward to sinking my teeth into it, anticipating the burst of flavor. 

I shake my head and berate myself. This is ridicu…