I am an Occupational Therapy student, in New Zealand who began a journey about 8 months ago. Initially it began, I thought, as a journey of discovery about ways to further my skills for future practice and learning about ways people occupy their time and what meaningful occupation is about. I thought my learning would also be around acquiring new skills like computer and Internet skills.

But looking back I realise that yes, these would all be a by-product of my experience but rather, the last 8 months has been a journey about self-exploration. Though I have started this journey now, it will continue throughout my practice as an occupational therapist. This journey is not about arriving at a destination but rather about my learning that occurs along the way.

I will backtrack a bit to fill you in on how it all began. Your first question, I’m guessing will be am I a survivor of a TBI or am I carer. Actually I am none of these and I feel I am not qualified or experienced to give advice. This is also not what I want to do. Rather I am a student who is yearning to learn from you the survivor and the carer. My yearning to learn has grown over the year but it was initiated by my occupational therapy course. It was a requirement for me to find out how the Internet worked so that eventually I could facilitate someone else learning to use the Internet. I began very computer illiterate, only knowing the basics about a computer, however as time has progressed and I have acquired new skills the focus of my learning has shifted to learning about people.

As I was surfing the Internet I stumbled across the TBIchat site, in particular the stories written by survivors and carers of TBI’s. I began reading them, the more I read the more I wanted to read. I was struck by the “realness” of these stories. I began questioning my beliefs about being a practitioner and the responsibility I had to the client. All the stories had common threads that ran through them. These were often stories about how the medical profession had in some way or other disappointed the families and clients and how without the support of their families it was often near impossible for the client to survive. These are real stories about real people and that really struck something deep inside me. These were stories about the pain, frustration, tears and laughter that people had experienced. I was touched by the humanness of these stories and I really wanted to make a change. I wanted to take my peers and shake them and show them the “other side” the reality for others that we are having an impact on in some way.

I look at the medical profession I am about to enter and I wonder how it is that so often we become callus and immune to the people we meet in our profession and their experiences. We who work in this profession are supposed to be such good “people persons”, people overflowing in compassion and a desire to help and support those in need. Yet the other side of the coin is how will we survive in the profession if we become immersed in each persons pain. How do you get that happy medium?

I began the year feeling like an alien with nothing to offer you the survivor/carer. I felt there was no way of breakingdown the barrier between you the “client” and me the “expert". I could see a need but I did not know how to reach it. What could one student on the other side of the world do, not only in her own community but also the wider community? Can I really make a difference? My supervisor and I have begun to facilitate a group whose members are survivors of TBI’s. We get together chat about experiences, have coffee and read the stories we found on the Internet about other survivors. Somehow these stories all seem to generate other stories and this all forms part of a support network. Often members of the group identify with the stories. These stories are about amazing people who have survived and achieved so much and value life. You the survivor are the teacher and we the professionals should be the students. I know now that we the professionals have a lot to learn from survivors. I have been left with many unanswered questions about the apathy and complacency I have encountered on my journey and I wish that all professionals could walk in your shoes for a while, as these are valuable lessons we should have to learn. I realise that I cannot fully understand what you have gone through and what you go through on a daily basis but I do know that I have been touched by your stories and the little peep I have had into life from your perspective. This to me is more valuable than any of the training I have.

I hope to treasure these lessons as I continue on my journey. I am not sure where my journey will lead but I thank you for opening up my eyes and challenging my views through your honesty and willingness to share your experiences with me.

Thank you

Email Marie