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Deus, in adjutorium meum intende. Domine, ad adjuvandum me festina.
O God, come to my assistance. O Lord, make haste to help me.

So, I remember walking to the car and driving home after Mass. Three of us had just sung the Rorate Mass, a Mass of the Blessed Virgin on Saturdays in Advent, this one before Gaudete Sunday (the third Sunday of Advent). I'll explain that later.

The thing is, I don't remember walking down the choir stairs and out the church door.  In fact, I don't remember singing the whole Mass.  When I walked in the door at home, I immediately asked how old I was and what year it was. My daughter put me into the car and drove me to our local clinic.  Apparently I repeatedly asked the same questions and was promptly taken into an examining room. Just to be sure I wasn't having a stroke, they decided to send me to the hospital via ambulance.  It was so strange.  I knew where I was, my name, when I was born, my immediate surroundings, etc.  I don't remember the constant repetition of questions.

After tests, including a CT Scan to make sure there was no bleeding into the brain, they sent me home. I spent the rest of the day in bed and apparently kept up the monotonous questioning. Father told my daughter to keep me home Sunday to rest.  By that night I seemed to have recovered. However, I still recall nothing of that day at Mass or the rest of my odd lack of memory.

I know what happened.  It's called Transient Global Amnesia.  I've had similar instances twice before, but not as long-lasting as this one.  It can be brought on by stress, cold, physical exertion.  It is rare, but happens, usually to women over 60 who have a history of migraine.  I have had a full blown migraine only once, shortly after my second child was born.  It was a doozy, with my not being able to read, having garbled speech, not understanding  words, having no sight in one eye.  After that I warded the headache off by taking an aspirin as soon as an aura began to form in my eye, lying down and totally relaxing.  Sometimes I still had a little of the garbled speech afterwards for a bit, but that's all.

The first time this happened to me was about twelve years ago.  I had moved from Nevada City, CA to Santa Maria, CA, transferring my Kiwanis membership from one city to the other.  My old club in Nevada City had decided to give me one of the highest honors one can receive and had been trying to figure out how to get it to me.  My dearest friend in the world and I had planned to drive up to the area for the annual County Fair. I called the President of the club and said we would drop by for the meeting, but not to tell anyone. I wanted to surprise them. When we got there we found that the meeting was in the banquet room downstairs in the hotel where we always met. There were husbands and wives of members there who usually didn't attend regular meetings. The usual buffet was there. I didn't tumble to what was going on until the meeting was called to order and the President called me up. I received the award, totally unexpectedly, and managed to get a thank you out of my mouth. When I sat down, I totally went blank.  I couldn't formulate a thought.   I quietly excused myself and went to the ladies' room. I sat there for a full fifteen minutes, trying to make my brain work.  I don't remember how I got through the rest of the meeting or what I said to anyone after that.  When my buddy and I got out to the car, I told her what happened. It was about an hour before I really felt normal again.

Then a few years ago, another daughter and I went camping in Death Valley.  It snowed and was terribly cold.  I had a glass of wine with our dinner, and decided to finish up the bottle (and  it was only enough for one more glass) since we were leaving the next morning for home.  We went to bed in the tent shortly afterwards.  I suddenly couldn't remember how old I was, what year it was, and although I knew where I was and that we were camping, I had a feeling of extreme anxiety. My daughter drove to the local store and got an extra blanket. I was shaking with the cold.  I got to sleep and the next morning I was fine.

These are migraine like phenomena, quite disconcerting, but not serious.  This last episode was brought on by anxiety.  Our usual choir leader and daughters, who make up the majority of our little group, were out of town.  I was responsible for the singing and we had no real time to practice. I was concerned about a couple of places in one part of the Mass Proper and felt responsible for doing a good job.  I guess it was the anxiety.  My companions, who visited me in the emergency room at the hospital - I do remember that_ said that we did a good job, and Father said it was beautiful.  I'll have to take their word for it.  I still do not remember the whole Mass and now tell everybody that this just proves that I can sing even when I'm unconscious.

About the Rorate Mass. It is so-called from the beginning of the Introit, Isaiah 45:8. Rorate, coeli, desuper, et nubes pluant justum, speriatur terra, et germinet Salvatorem. Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain the just: let the earth be opened and bud forth a Savior. The other prayers of the Mass are aimed at the Incarnation, with the Epistle from Isaiah, with the words, "Behold a Virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and His name shall be called Emmanuel......."