As a nurse I have come across numerous occasions when patients could not recognize family members and friends. Usually, these were people with trauma brain injury or stroke. I have witnessed the devastating impact this condition had on family and friends as well as the difficulty of the patient being unable to experience the calming effect of familiar faces even with their closest loved ones. I could relate with a certain amount of empathy, but when it happened to me, I realized that prosopagnosia has much deeper reaching effect than I had ever imagined.

One evening a couple of years ago, I got a call from my mother’s home attendant saying that Mom had become completely confused and speaking as though she was in the world of the past. It’s interesting how people go back in time when they can’t remember where or who they are and/or can’t distinguish familiar faces. Later, when I arrived at the emergency room, my mother could not recognize me. The doctor said it was "prosopagnosia." She thought I was one of the doctors. On the one hand, it was a bit encouraging that she understood that she was in the hospital, but on a personal level, I was in shock. I walked over to the nurses’ station and stood there accessing another realm of calm and internally crying in prayer for at least some face recognition and the return of that loving smile that radiates whenever I come into her line of sight.

Then after speaking to her doctor, I returned and Mom looked at me and said, "Doctor, you look a lot like my son."

"Maybe that’s because I am."

She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then broke into her usual smile, and said, "Oh; well that explains it then."

This personal miracle was not just a return from a world in which everything familiar seemed strange, but it was the sudden turning of a life-altering event into a humorous anecdote.

In a deeper reality, this entire episode was about words, because the only way we can tell whether someone is oriented, confused or insane is by what he or she says. The words we speak are more powerful than any weapon because words create the reality in which we live. With words, we can make friends or enemies, start wars or make peace. We can build up our friends or rip them apart merely by what we say. With one utterance, we can impact a child positively or negatively for the rest of his or her life and beyond.

In summary, the idea of face recognition being a vital mechanism for survival in human beings has been somewhat obscure in the scheme of things. But when you think of it you can realize that our sense of security is largely dependent on seeing familiar faces, especially when we enter an unfamiliar crowded area full of strangers. Moreover, there seems to be a peaking interest in this phenomenon. Certainly the emotional impact is far reaching enough to warrant more scientific study. From a clinical perspective, my mother’s experience was strangely interesting because she was orient to the place and people. She knew that she was in the hospital and was interacting coherently with the doctors and nurses. Yet she had this problem of prosopagnosia, be unable to distinguish one face from another. Fortunately for us it was a temporary condition, however, for those who have to deal with this long-term, there really isn’t any support system available to provide coping assistance in a meaningful way. Therefore, research on prosopagnosia should be centered on teaching care givers how to lessen the emotional impact for patients and family members.