I have never spoken very much about my brain injury, it’s kinda personal. I have never wanted special treatment. One could blame too much pride, too stubborn, and/or too ignorant. I am just one that needs to learn the hard way; I need to know all the ins and outs; I wanna know the nuts and bolts of the project. Anyway, I have decided to write a blog post concerning my severe traumatic brain injury. I hope there is value in this post for all of you. Here is the “Story of My Brain Injury”.
Twenty-five years ago from tonight, I rolled my Camaro in the mountains of northern Colorado. I was approximately twenty-five miles east of Estes Park, Colorado. I was traveling about sixty-five mph. An almost full twelve pack of cans hit me directly behind my right ear. I turned to look at my passenger, and all I could see was the ground passing fast, through the passenger window. The car barely slid on the passenger side, then flipped on its top. The car bounced from the left top side back to its wheels, then came to an abrupt stop against a large bolder, which prevented us from splashing into the river.
I awoke to my friend gently shaking me, and saying, “Wake up! Wake up!”, as I opened my eyes I saw size fourteen tennis shoes. I was on the passenger floorboard with my seatbelt on! My head and neck hurt with explosive pain. My low back hurt a lot, also, from a previous injury one year before. I sat up and bumped my head on the crushed roof of the car. I got out of the car and cried, as I looked at my wrecked car. I had such great plans for my beloved Camaro. I was going to have it painted a different color, and I was going to improve the engine performance. I had the money saved up for the paint job, and I was formulating a plan for engine performance. Now, it was a heap of mangled metal. It was a clear representation of my own body, mind, and dreams.
Less than two weeks later, while I was continuing my studies at our community college, I realized I was unable to do my homework. None of it made sense, it was very difficult to stay focused, and I could not read; I could barely get through one sentence. I use to sit in the kitchen every day to do homework while my mom made dinner. It was wonderful! After a week or so, I told my mom about my inability to study. I was unable to concentrate. Headaches hurt like Hades, and they were never-ending. My neck hurt so much that I did not want to move my head. My back hurt more, too. When my mom heard this, she immediately called a neurologist to make an appoint. The neurologist did a number of tests. His conclusion, I had a brain injury and referred me to a psychologist. The psychologist did a number of tests and asked a plethora of questions. I was soon enrolled in many types of therapy. About six months into this therapy, the insurance company told the doctors and I that I had reached my limit of the amount of care covered by my policy. The doctor allowed me a few more sessions of therapy free of charge and encouraged me to join a group that met about forty-five miles from where I lived. I never attended the group meetings; it just seemed too far to travel for minimal care. I, also, was very uncomfortable with all this attention and believed I could heal well on my own; I was a very independent individual, and I was terrified to travel in a car, especially on a highway. Thus, I struggled for two decades with my injuries; in and out of periodic counseling and medication. It has been a lot of snow and uphill both ways, but I declare, “I am determined, and I will succeed, and you will succeed, also!”
You got this on “LOCKDOWN”!
To Your Great Fortune!
P.S. I just keep chippin’ away.