How do I start? Writing about extremely sensitive and personal issues in one 's life is not easy. However, my efforts at relating some of my "story" may be interesting and potentially helpful for another survivor, caregiver, or family member/friend who may later read these words. It is with this hope that I continue.

During my youth and High School years, I was a hard working, hard playing, very healthy and reasonably intelligent young man. Rigorous daily physical work, participation in organized sports, and regular exercise kept my body in great shape. Luckily, that was the case.

On my 18th birthday, on December 18, 1959, I inadvertently tested the absolute limits of direct physical trauma that my "healthy" body could endure. While returning home alone after a study session with a college classmate in my first year of Pharmacy School, witnesses have testified that my car left a stoplight with another car alongside in an apparent race, and proceeded very rapidly down the street.

My car was a classic 1955 Chevrolet Del Ray Coupe. With the exception of visible Lakewood traction bars hanging under the rear axles and a chrome Sun Tachometer sitting on the steering column, it intentionally looked stock. It was far from stock throughout the drive train! In early 1959, a new 1958 small block Corvette engine was bored, stroked and massaged into a 339 inch screamer and installed into this car. The engine had Jahns pistons, an Isky E4 cam, many other race parts, and had been balanced and blueprinted. It was one of, if not the fastest car in town. Despite all these extras which served to dramatically increase its power and speed, the car's owner (me) had NOT yet taken the time and money to install seat belts!

My personal opinion is that I was NOT racing, but merely avoiding trouble offered by the occupants of the other car.] It was just after midnight and fortunately no other cars were coming from the opposite direction on the street. I say this because just as my car started around a slight turn in the road to the left, the right rear tire blew out. My car immediately turned sideways and slid into the oncoming lane. The obviously excessive speed present caused my car to slide nearly half a block and then collide with the opposite curb at the next intersection. Upon impact of both right side tires with the curb, I was forcibly ejected through the side passenger window.

Four witnesses were present at the scene. The three very tough-looking young hoodlums in the other car, and a police officer who watched the whole event occur! My car had pulled ahead of the other car and the occupants in that car had the best seat in the house to watch my crash. The cop was a close second.

As my car hit the curb, it was flipped up into the air. An instant after I was thrown through the passenger window, the top of the car slammed into a large utility pole. The car was stopped by the pole and fell directly to the ground on its side. I was pinned under the car.

Luckily, all four witnesses stopped and after seeing that I was not in the car, decided to roll it back onto its wheels. After they did, they found my body laying in the gutter, under where the car had landed.

I was transported by ambulance to the County Hospital several miles away. My injuries were extremely critical including head, neck, and internal injuries. At some point, air leaking from my damaged lungs traveled into my neck area and closed-off the trachea, or breathing tube. At that point, I stopped breathing and literally "died"!

An emergency tracheotomy finally restored my breathing. I lapsed into a coma and remained largely unresponsive for five weeks. The collision was in December, but my first real memories thereafter, other than mere "brief patches" of memory, started in about March of 1960. (Based upon "starting-again" in 1960, I can semi-legitimately say that I am now only "39". Does not this sound reasonable?)

My brain injuries included lacerations and contusions of the right cerebral hemisphere. I am told that initially my toes were curled tightly downward. In addition, I was not moving the left side of my body as much as the right, if at all. My understanding is that these symptoms indicate substantial trauma and pressure upon my spinal cord, as well injury to the right side of my brain. Luckily(?), I "slept" through this time of my life and have no memories of it.

At the time of the wreck, I was an excellent physical specimen and weighed a strong 155 pounds at 5'6". Upon initial release from the hospital, I weighed 95. Having no memory whatever of the wreck or the hospital, one of the first things I can remember is trying to walk up a stairway in our home. After putting my leg on the higher step, I found that I did not have the strength to raise the weight of my body! What a shock! And how mystifying to me...

I refused to believe that I had been in an accident at all! I felt certain I would soon "wake up" and it would be the morning of my 18th birthday, and none of this would have happened at all. I sincerely felt that I was in a "dream" and that nothing apparently happening around me was real. My short-term memory had been devastated. I kept asking my parents the same question over, and over, and over again, since I could not remember asking it, nor the answer given. For a long time, it was not possible for me to watch a thirty-minute television program because I could not remember what had happened at the first of the half-hour!

It was only through the love, patience, prayers and continual encouragement given me by my parents and older brother that I was permitted to continue the difficult efforts at recovery.

As many other survivors will fully understand, some of the consequences and effects of traumatic brain injuries are invisible to most others. Many of those with whom I came in contact after the wreck had no knowledge nor understanding of the turmoil and profound confusion present within my apparently "normal" head! This was probably one of the most frustrating aspects of my condition.

My recovery and ability to return to Pharmacy College in Summer Session the following June of 1960, despite the contrary predictions of many of the attending medical "experts", was amazing to all. I was not impressed by the sheer magnitude of this victory since I believed I was merely acting in a "dream".

Initially back in college, it was extremely difficult for me to understand the professors and follow their lectures. At one point, I even went into the office of the Dean of Pharmacy and advised him that Professor "X" was not making any sense in his lectures. (The Dean had visited me in the hospital and understood what I was going through - as much as "understanding" is possible for others.) I proceeded to assure the Dean that everything was "OK" and that none of this was really happening anyway, since I was in a dream. He acknowledged my words and wisely did not attempt to correct me.

Pharmacy College was very difficult. The first summer back, I finally dropped Physics (where the professor made no sense) and completed the other course taken. The next fall I started back full time. Among other things, I had to study during the night and immediately in the morning before any examinations to give me even a remote chance to remember the subjects studied long enough for the test. Somehow, I passed and pretended that I felt "normal". My "knowledge and clear understanding" that I was in a dream made it possible for me to overlook many bothersome things for years. I had the complete understanding that one day I would "wake up" and none of this would have happened at all...

I apologize for the length of this story, but it covers nearly forty (40) years. My life after the TBI was without any doubt, changed significantly. I graduated from Pharmacy School in June of 1964. Somehow I made it. It was easy for me to retreat into the idea that I remained in a "dream". Thus, nothing that "happened" was too darn important. After all, when I "woke up", nothing really would have "happened". (That is even hard for me to write and understand now, but that IS how I felt.)

So many things to consider, what to write...?

Continually after regaining some semblance of "consciousness" following the wreck, I "KNEW WITHOUT DOUBT" that I had experienced a life-altering event. This event left me with the knowledge of what it "felt like to be dead". In other words, at some point my body had ceased to be "alive" and yet, I continued on... Wow, how do I explain this? There are no words... This is an experience that I would not discuss in detail with anyone for over 30 years! That is how dramatic and traumatic it was...

My "memories" of this "event" are absolute, yet impossible to describe in words. How can you describe a place or a plane of consciousness where there is NO TIME? The most memorable aspects are really just "feelings". Not JUST feelings, but FEELINGS! Not just FEELINGS, but absolute KNOWLEDGE! It remains possible for me to recall the absolute PEACE and LOVE I felt at this plane of existence. It was beyond beautiful, it was a place that NO ONE would ever want to leave!!

I have absolute "knowledge" that at that exact point and time, I was permitted to UNDERSTAND ALL! How can I expect anyone to comprehend this?

For some reason still unknown or not remembered by me, I was not permitted to stay in that glorious place. I came "back", but I came back slowly... My permitted global understanding is now only a vague memory. It was left in that beautiful world that awaits us...

Little by little, year by year, my "dream" continued. Finally, with no clear delineation, too much time had passed, and too many events had occurred to maintain any longer the possibility that I was still in a "dream"... Too bad...

One continuing aftermath or ramification of my dying experience, or Near Death Experience as it is now known, is that I have lost all fear or anxiety about death! It WILL happen when it is supposed to... When it does, I will be ready and welcome its arrival! This does not mean that I WANT it to arrive any too soon. In fact, I feel certain that I must have been sent back here to do something... Not certain what, but something...

Possibly as a result of my loss of the fear of death, my life has been lived in the fullest. Not necessarily carelessly, but "on the edge". I feel very "alive" when flirting with what some would call risky or potentially dangerous activities. Among many other things, I actively participated as a Sports Car Racing driver in the 1960's, while working as a Pharmacist. I still find myself becoming bored with sameness and need change and speed to feel "alive".

In 1967 at a race in Wisconsin, I was offered a probable opportunity to join Team Lotus in England and potentially become a professional race driver. I was extremely tempted. However, after carefully considering all factors, including the fact there was no guarantee with Lotus, the fact I was not rich, and that I was already spending most of the money I earned as a Pharmacist on racing, I decided the best course of action was to return to graduate school. This return to school was done only so I could eventually earn enough money to permit me to return to racing on a more financially comfortable level.

I had taken both the Law School Admission Test as well as the Medical School Admission Test in preparation for my return to Graduate School. It was a tough decision, but I elected to attend Law School starting in the fall of 1968. Law School was extremely difficult, but for slightly different reasons than Pharmacy School. By this time, my memory had improved significantly, but learning "how to think like a lawyer", as opposed to learning the objective scientific facts required in Pharmacy, presented an entirely new challenge to my already compromised brain.

As a part of my story that should be included, in March of 1968 I got married. My wife, Charlene, worked a full time job as well as a part-time job during the time I was in Law School. I was a full time Law student and worked two to three part-time jobs as a Pharmacist while in Law School. I worked as a Pharmacist between 20 and 30 hours per week on average during Law School. For reasons probably not related to my TBI, at the end of Law School in 1971, my wife and I had grown apart. We remained married until 1973, when we entered into an amicable parting-of-the-ways. We did not have children.

To make a long story shorter, I graduated from Law School in 1971. I worked for others for three years, then opened my own law firm in 1974. The firm grew, and I became the Senior Partner of this successful six person law firm by 1976 - working regular 100 hour weeks - and "burned-out" in 1981. During this very intense period, I entered into a brief, ill-advised second marriage that lasted only a few months.

Since then, I have remained single with several lengthy serial monogamous relationships. Presently, I enjoy the freedom of single life while remaining friends and companions with compatible ladies.

After several years of practicing Personal Injury law, I finally diagnosed myself as suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This is a term first used to apply to combat veterans following Vietnam long after my injuries were suffered, but it definitely applies in my case. While reading about this condition for a Personal Injury client of mine, I discovered the listed elements of the condition were similar to those I experienced. Among those listed was one called "having a sense of foreshortened destiny". Ever since my injuries, I "knew" I would not live to a very old age. I sincerely felt I would be dead by age 35 or 40. Why?... Who knows?

With my feelings that I would be dead by 35 or 40 and having no fear of death, when I became 39 and had a sufficient financial stake for the remainder of my anticipated short life, I decided to "retire". This was in 1981. I quit law practice in Des Moines, Iowa, and traveled to Seattle, WA, where my brother and parents lived. As merely something to do, I took the five week legal refresher course in preparation for the Washington State Bar examination and sat for the full three day Bar in July of 1981. I was reasonably relaxed in this exam and did not worry about it. It really didn't matter to me what happened, for my time on this earth was short (in my mind). To my amazement, I passed the first time!

Again, with "knowledge" that I would not live much longer, I put all my things in storage in Seattle and proceeded to basically just travel for two years. After two years and still being alive, I had to decide what to do. I bought a house and settled down in Seattle.

Since 1983, my low-keyed legal practice doing only Personal Injury litigation has been quite successful. It is now possible for me to again "retire" and I have done so. I still get calls and referrals and am currently listed as "of counsel" to another law firm here in Seattle. My brother and I have done considerable travel this year and hopefully more travel is ahead.

For the past seven years I have volunteered at the local Children's Hospital part of one day a week. I also have offered some limited assistance to the local Brain Injury Association. I hope to continue and even increase these activities in the future.

I hope I have not gone on too long with my story. Obviously, however, a lot has been left out.

It is my sincere hope that my story may offer some hope, encouragement and assistance to those presently finding themselves or their loved ones dealing with the tribulations and hardships which follow and are a natural consequence of brain injury.

We are never "former" survivors of brain injuries. The presence and reality of these brain injuries in our lives will never vanish nor disappear. However, that does NOT mean that we are not able to recover some or all of our former abilities. What it does mean is that we always have to learn to deal with our remaining abilities. We have to learn to continue our positive thoughts and efforts at improvement. Our brains are marvelously created machines. Just because we may have damaged or short-circuited one or several parts of our brain, does not mean that the brain itself may not one day work to "re-wire" itself, permitting other areas to assume functions previously performed by that now damaged area! It does take time, often a lot of time. But so long as we have faith and hope that things will improve, we leave the door open and invite continued healing...

Thank you for considering my words. They were very hard to write. You all know it is not fun to relive those moments in one's life which recall and bring to mind past pain and distress experienced. My wish for all survivors reading this story is that you may enjoy further and continued healing, and that your futures will be blessed with peace in knowing that ALL things happen for a reason and that one day we WILL understand...

Dave Stevens
November 11, 1999

P.S. My preexisting "need for speed" continues. After riding several extremely high performance motorcycles for many years "successfully", i.e., not being killed on them, which continued through August of 1998, my plans now include participation in a two-day race-driving course conducted by DriveTech Racing School this December. We will be driving actual NASCAR racecars on the two mile banked track at Ontario, California. I sincerely appreciate the fact I am still physically able to do these "crazy" things. Exactly why I am still able and want to is another thing. Not sure I can answer that (at this time)...

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I hope that this can serve as an illustration that there can be fun to be had after a major TBI, even though at times recovery seems so very slow. There IS hope!

All my best for 2000 and thereafter!

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