I have so often referred to the first year or so after my own traumatic brain injury as “TBI boot camp.” It was undoubtedly the hardest year of my life. Nothing, absolutely nothing in life can prepare you for all that encompasses a brain injury.
The first year or so was painful as life-long friendships dissolved. It was financially abysmal as my ability to work on a full-time basis stopped the moment I was struck by a teenage driver while cycling. My sense of self was as shattered just like the windshield that I flew through.
They were tough days indeed.
As time passed after my crash, my broken and bruised body did exactly what it was supposed to do — it healed. My brain was another story, but I underplayed it. Well-intentioned friends would ask how my recovery was progressing. My stock answer for much of that first year was about the same, perhaps with a touch too much enthusiasm: “Other than my traumatic brain injury, things are progressing as well as could be expected.”
The loss of my emotional and social filter was one of the reasons I found it easy to talk about my brain injury. But sadly, so was my naiveté. Don't let anyone kid you. There is still a very real social stigma attached to having a traumatic brain injury. Just ask those souls who used the opt-out option and quietly faded into the background of my life.
It's been several years since I graduated from TBI boot camp. The reality is that I have to live daily in a world where most of those I come in to contact with do not have a TBI. These days, I have adopted much more of a "need to know" approach when sharing. In fact, even the terminology I use has changed.
If I am in a position where my brain injury needs to be talked about, or is even referenced, I use a bit of finesse. Comments like, “I still live with some long-term challenges from a concussion,” seem not to alienate others. Unlike the sometimes awkward silence that on more than one occasion has come from calling my brain injury by name, the use of the word “concussion” seems to be accepted by others much more easily. While “brain injury” carries a stigma, “concussion” does not.
This may sound like a small point, but in reality, it is not. I have come to really cherish those relationships that have stood the test of time. I have some loyal friends and family who knew the "old David" and who accept me as I am today. I do what I can to maintain those relationships.
This brings me full-circle to over-sharing versus under-sharing.
During that first year, not a day went by that I didn't talk about my brain injury. My wife, Sarah, bore the brunt of my endless TBI monologue. Looking back with the benefit of clarity that comes only with the passage of time, I realize I needed to talk about my traumatic brain injury. I needed to work through what was the biggest life change I never expected to happen. I needed the ability to hear myself sort through the chaos and fear. Daily, I would talk about my vertigo, my incessant ear ringing, and the ambiguous grief if felt as I realized I was never going to be who I was before my crash. The list goes on.
And Sarah listened.
Over the years, I have found it unnecessary to continue to share every hill and valley of my day-to-day challenges. This is partially because I have come to accept that this is my life. But also, by speaking of it incessantly, it again becomes center stage, and we’ve both had enough of that.
This past summer, I did what I do most every day — I went out on a 25-mile bike ride. Occasionally, I deal with memory lapses. My damaged brain ceases laying down new memories for a while. On that particular summer day, something happened. I blinked my eyes only to find that I had travelled to a point a half-mile or so away from home with virtually no recall. In what amounts to a sign of post-traumatic growth, or maybe full-throttle acceptance, I regained my bearings and simply continued along with my ride. It really is amazing what you can learn to live with. I came home, showered, and told no one. There was no intent to be evasive. No desire to hide anything. Rather, I chose not to say a word as I just chalked it up as part of what my new life entails.
Over the years since my TBI, I have developed a very strong passion for living transparently when it comes to my brain injury. I often write about many of these events that define my new life. Much of what I write ends up on my personal blog. And on the day of my amnesia ride, I wrote and posted the story without as much as a second thought. And, as it so often happens, other people with TBI chimed in that my experience was in virtual lockstep to their own.
Later that week, however, my Dad and I spoke. He shared that he had read of my experience and shared it with my mom. My dad is 81 and mom is not far behind. I do all that I can to see that they don't worry about me. I was immediately conflicted knowing that others with TBI need to know that they are not alone while, at the same time, wishing that my dad had not chosen to read that particular piece.
But the real game-changer was when my Sarah shared something I had not even considered. “If anything ever happened to you, it’s important that I know of anything like this. I need to know if you are forgetting your bike ride, or parts of it.” Suffice to say, she was right. Life with a brain injury means that I live in a world where things can change in an instant.
Just as I learned that there is tangible effect on others depending on the specific words I use in describing my brain injury, it’s equally, if not more so, important that anything that falls into the "”big stuff” category is properly discussed.
I continue to learn as I go. We all do. Rather than beat myself up for any miss-steps, I'll just call it a learning experience.
Just like recovering from a brain injury is a life-long experience, so is learning to live life as a a person with a brain injury.
Comments (56)
Please remember, we are not able to give medical or legal advice. If you have medical concerns, please consult your doctor. All posted comments are the views and opinions of the poster only.
Anonymous replied on Permalink
Hello,I was curious about Researching others and i of my TBI I've had for 25 yrs. Yas that's a long time and I wonder how long ppl like me live after receiving one or life expectancy?. I'm alone w/ this injury in this world i believe and idk how to handle it being solo. Id love to meet others in my shoes in this day.
Z replied on Permalink
Thank you for having written this post. Recently had an injury and as I come up to the one year mark, I’m realising the potential permanency of it. It’s comforting to read how you’ve dealt with it and to know that it’s okay to be processing the injury a lot during the first year. Hopefully I can get to a place where I resume life without much thought of the injury, whilst finding a balance with accepting my treatments and support. Thanks again and best wishes!
Anonymous replied on Permalink
January 31st 2018 changed my life forever! I suffered a left cranial hematoma...Cracked skull and was mid flighted they almost lost me on the OR table...28 years old at the time with two kids by the Grace of God I was able to WALK out of the hospital 8 days later! But no one told me about the life after it. I thought it was over once the staples were removed...I suffer from random depression and sometimes memory loss. It’s a mental battle everyday but I found that talking and writing about it really helps! Thank you for sharing your story
Abubakar Shehu replied on Permalink
I just received my final follow up appointment with my doctor regarding my TBI prognosis. I was expecting good news but I received a disheartening and saddening response as I was told that he wouldn't be able to tell me how I would heal and that I would need to learn to accept my current situation as a new normal. I totally thought that all the therapies and rehabilitation activities that I undergo were going to help me heal and get back to my former self but now I know that it wouldn't happen. I must learn to just accept my situation and never put my hope and expectations beyond my reach. I might sound like I'm giving up but I'm not. I rather choose to live a life with love,enjoyment and satisfaction than to live a life full of sorrow,disappointments and depression.
Murray Dunlap replied on Permalink
You are right on the money, David. Social media made over-sharing too easy. I left Facebook for that reason. greatly appreciate your essay and hope I too will overcome. My outlet has been writing, and I pray that I can publish my new book, rather that talk about my life. Thank you again for this.
Murray W Dunlap replied on Permalink
Not only did I not remember reading this already, but I now see I left a comment. This seems like a pretty good example of my TBI path. I have no idea what I have done. I will forget this very note by tomorrow....
Charlie replied on Permalink
Thank you for sharing this post. I had very severe tbi in 1999 aged 16. I am a miracle. A miracle of healing and all the other good stuff. And so are you. And, anyway you get to decide exactly what you are. Anyone that survives this experiment of physical neuro plasticity is a true pioneering hero. You chose to survive (you could have easily given up and said, no thanks, not for me, but you didn’t.. but you are busy wasting time comparing your before and after... to hell with the before...) You are not “injured,” you just don’t fit in to this robotic, oppressed world so well anymore, (and that’s great, because you see the cracks.) You are getting to experience life from another perspective, you get to see through the man made constraints. The “friends” that leave you are the ones losing out, let them and their closed minds go. If everything was always ‘just so’ we would never have the opportunity to learn, grow and make things better. And to the carers - see your ‘charge’ as the whole, perfect, powerful human being that they are and you’ll find this particular experience a lot more rewarding. Love to all
David J. replied on Permalink
I myself was in a car accident my Senior year. I spent a decent amount of time in shock trauma and then was moved to Kernan for treatment. I understand what you are writing all too well and wanted to thank you for doing so. It has been years and I still feel myself healing mentally and physically. My best to all who read this and understand this.
Keep healing!
Ana replied on Permalink
Thank you David for sharing. I too had a TBI in 1997 and totally relate with your gaps in memory. I struggle everyday wishing of way to find out what to do with my life. I took an acting certificate program at a local Community college and yes I said acting . I know whst you are thinking and I think it too. How is it even possible with amnesia? But then how is any thing possible for me? I wish there was a place or person who could guide me on what to do with my life. OVR was a bust, local temp agencies was the same. Sometimes I wonder if I am living with the biggest curse, the curse of not remembering.
I often wonder, why dream? what’s the point?
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Thank you for your story. I am 6 months into TBI. It is so hard. I never thought my life would change the way it has or the people that are no longer in my life.
I have a lot of the same issues you have/had. I fight every day just trying to remember what I did the day before.
God Bless you and your family. I hope nothing but peace to you.
kt1117@yahoo.com
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David, my husband, Tom, and I have just survived our twenty-eighth year since his devastating closed head injury, his short term memory is debilitating and can last perhaps one or two minutes. We are currently dealing with the results of a prostate surgery to remove cancer and with his inability to understand what is happening and lack of short-term memory, it is a major challenge. I am his 7/24 hour care giver and it is a lonely existence for the care giver as well.
We have lost friends along the way and we have been used and abandoned by family on both sides. However, isolation has become a method of survival, if you can understand. People may say that they understand what we deal with, but I guarantee that they would not be able to be Tom's support for one week. It takes a very special person to be a true friend, and there are some in our lives that are long term friends who do understand and accommodate Tom's needs and take care of mine. And we have a son, Mike and daughter-in-law, Amanda and their family that share a bond. Mike was ten at the time of his dad's accident and my proudest achievements have been to keep my family intact and to raise a son to be a man who knows what is important in life. He had to mature at an early age.
I have learned this lesson, that the experts and the medical community are not as experienced or educated when it comes to the individual survivor. For example, Tom was given his driver's license, he has mood swings and one of the medications the neurologist prescribed created a monster. Imagine the worst dealing that you have ever had with a mouthy, angry teenager and times it by 10. When it happened while I was driving, I grabbed my keys and left the car for 10 minutes, then we went directly to the Emergency Department. The neurologist was in disbelief and the social worker suggested "anger management" for a man without a memory. The police and court system do not recognize the differences of dealing with a survivor of TBI. Then there are the insurance companies and the relationship between you and the person with your file. Both companies and personnel change and it takes time to re-establish the connections.
My comments probably address the viewpoint of a care giver for a spouse with TBI rather than your story; however, Tom is not able to comment and I felt the need to open this dialog. Both Tom and I wish you well as you continue to adapt to new changes and challenges.
Michele Kossack
Veronica Ochoa replied on Permalink
Hi Michele,
I know this is an old post but it rings true to me as this time. My husband suffered a TBI and he still in the hospital mainly for rehab. It's good to know that even if he looks like a lot of improvement will be made, the sequels are forever present, and that's helpful to me as his caretaker. Thank you for sharing
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Anonymous replied on Permalink
Thanks for the great read. I had a major stroke in 2000 then a smaller one in February of this year. I've been doing boot camp, but I've also been denying that this 'event' or 'little blip' was anything to worry about. After all, I've done this recovery thing before, right? It's only been over the last couple weeks that I've given my family full disclosure - that I can't follow through plans, I'm impulsive, I get vertigo, I forget to eat, that I walk to places I didn't intend to.Worst of all, I fear that I might never get it all back. I've been really clear on the effects of my first stroke. I always tell people I'll probably forget them, but it's (probably) not personal. But this is a little too close, a little too tender for jokes, yet. It's good to know I'm not the only one who struggles with how much to say and to whom.
Mary
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Another "Thank You!" for sharing your story. Having been the "recipient" of a severe TBI at age 15 (29 years ago) and having family & friends being told I would be fine - no lasting effects at all, I have realized in the last 5-15 years that what I considered normal was not. I have also realized, as I have felt comfortable sharing my history with people who did not know me in the past, the harsh sting of the same stigma you have described.
It comes, in my opinion, from ignorance concerning brain injury and its specific effects, along with other's fear of those different from themselves, which is not limited to brain injury. The way I see it at this point is that those who choose to distance themselves because of the stigma are truly showing who they are and who is worth being friends with.
When it comes to close family, it is a much harder situation to deal with. I do not know the answer to this. I deal with this, as well. Again, lack of understanding plays a major role. However, if those close to us do not want to take the time to understand, what does that say about them? What if they try and simply do not understand? This is an extremely hard idea to take in. The most important thing is not to blame oneself, the world, life circumstances, etc. The way we feel about ourselves reflects outwards and that is something I have to remind myself everyday, while taking things one step at a time.
For all of you who may read this, good luck, and do not ever give up. The more that society learns and understands, the better things will get. Find others who "get it" if you can, learn more about your own situation, and again, never give up.
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PD replied on Permalink
Wow nice poem, that's how I felt.
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Wow - this is a great post. Thank you and everyone for sharing their story. I can relate to absolutely everything you said, as I, too, suffered a TBI in 2007. I love the point you made about "concussions" vs "traumatic brain injury." I thought I was crazy when I noticed this along my own journey.
To all of the survivors and family members, hang on tight. It's a very rough road, but the good news is the brain is resilient and with time and a lot of patience, things can improve. We may not be the person we were before the TBI, but who says we can't be better?
Peace to all of you.
Anonymous replied on Permalink
Hello thank you all for your stories. I'm Bob I had a TBI in 2002 (I was 17 at time,) due to a car accident. I was in coma at the Walton Center for roughly 2-4 weeks. When I was finally released my work who stood by me when was in hospital spoke to my dad and said there will always be a job there when ever I wanted so pretty much with in 2 weeks of getting out I was back working in cafe only washing cups but it was getting my brain working. When nurses came round to see me at home (checkup,) they were more than happy with me being back at work and never seen them again.
After coming through evil things my mother (toughest part of recovery,) had said and a relationship break I moved away. I was working in a pub that's when I really noticed my side effects/problems. My short term memory was bad some times I would forget to charge customers, but the main problems are my mood I go from being happy and calm and if something winds me up I instantly turn I go red and my right shoulder starts shaking. There is no middle bit with me I go from ne extreme to another. The other (most noticeable,) is my right arm it shakes from the shoulder when eating drinking its most noticeable. When I told docs about these they just prescribed me tablets which effected my sleep and didn't help with either of the problems.
I have had same friends for 15years or so they know me inside out but when I meet new people I never tell them about TBI or don't want to, if someone ever asks about shaky arm I just say I need a drink and laugh it off. I am 31 years old now I have never had a career but always worked low paid jobs laboring shop assistant etc i would love nothing more than a career but when I do curses I always flap on exams tests etc.
I still live in hope that one day I will wake up and it will all be ok.
Thanks again for all your posts stories
regards
Bob.
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Unafraid replied on Permalink
Dear Permalink....loved your post. Identified with you completely. I notice that most people think you are crazy or something if they find out that you are a brain injury survivor. Little do they know that we are crazy STRONG, rather, to get through something so horrendous. My prayers to you and everyone on this board. Stay strong, you know what you have had to endure. Love yourself, always, and God bless. It gets much better.
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