The worst part of my accident wasn't the injuries, the pain afterwards, the limits on what I could do physically, the surgery, or the pain after that.

The worst part was the cognitive and emotional consequences of the anesthesia . . . and the worst part of that was not realizing how bad off I was while this was happening.

At first, I thought being in a funk and foggy-headed was a consequence of the trauma and the painkillers, but then the dark, hazy state continued. And continued...

Even after weeks of rest and recuperation, I found myself zapped of my usual enthusiastism and bubbliness. I couldn't get motivated; I was tired all the time. Sleep often seemed like the best—and sometimes the only—choice.

Email started piling up and projects kept backing up. I had to postpone some engagements and cancel others. What's worse, I kept making mistakes that were out of character for me, thinking each was a seperate incident . . . until they started adding up.

To list just a few examples, here are some of the less-than-brilliant things I did:

• Forgot to pay my mortgage. Not just one month, but two!
• Conked out on the couch and slept through a class I supposed to teach! (My wonderful teaching partner Suzie Lundgren was there and she covered for me.)
• Forgot to buy a plane ticket to teach in Paris until right before the trip! (Fortunately, I have the best travel agent in the world: Brenda @ www.dixontravelservices.com)
• Bought a plane ticket arriving four hours after my master class at Berklee School of Music was supposed to start!

The list goes on, but I think probably you get the picture.

Once I realized what was going on, I went to see my accupuncturist. A few sessions of needles generating thunder-bolts through my skeleton and I've started finding my way back to my old self. Now I'm working through the e-mail backlog with enthusiasm. I'm doing my best to keep up with current business—and it's getting easier every day.

Though teaching hasn't suffered, I've had to cut back and I'll be taking a break from traveling and teaching this summer while the last bits of fog clear.